By: Emily Johnson
Updated: Aug. 18, 2020
Originally Published: Feb. 1, 2018
Before I became a mother, I enjoyed certain luxuries that now seem like distant memories. For starters, I had a purse that was solely mine—no toys, no crumbs, just my essentials. I could go to the bathroom without an audience; my evenings were free to do as I pleased. And let’s not forget about the joy of having a clean car, free from the remnants of snack time. But perhaps the thing I miss the most is the simplicity of my purse.
In my pre-kid days, my handbag was a sanctuary of personal items: lip balm, a hairbrush, the occasional mint, and maybe a pain reliever—only the things I needed. I was blissfully unaware of the need to pack for anyone else. There were no diaper changes, no snack delays, and certainly no imaginary injuries to attend to.
Fast forward to now, and my once modest purse has transformed into a colossal tote that could rival Santa’s sack. Four kids later, it’s less of a handbag and more of a chaotic treasure chest filled with every conceivable item they could possibly need. Sure, my things are still in there, but they are buried beneath a sticky mountain of kid clutter. If I reach in, I’m far more likely to pull out a plastic dinosaur than my own lip gloss.
The sheer volume of paper in my purse is astonishing, enough to rival a small library. I’m not the biggest coupon clipper, yet I’ve somehow accumulated enough expired discounts for juice boxes and snacks to last a lifetime. There are also pediatrician handouts on child development, appointment slips from months ago, and invitations to birthday parties that have long since passed. And let’s not even get started on the random notes that make no sense anymore—like “fashion water”—whatever that means.
Then there are the toys, oh the toys! What began as a couple of cars for distraction has morphed into a miniature toy store. My purse now houses everything from superheroes to forgotten fast-food meal prizes. They lie in wait, often intertwined with my belongings, like gumball-machine slime that has decided to take up residence in my hairbrush.
If there’s one thing more abundant than toys, it’s trash. Isn’t it funny how trash cans seem to vanish when you need one? I often find myself with a handful of used tissues or half-eaten snacks, and into the purse they go, only to be forgotten until the next time I’m on a desperate search for something. Hence, my bag is cluttered with wrappers, licked lollipops, and all kinds of unmentionable remnants.
On the plus side, if I ever found myself stranded with just my purse, I’d have enough snacks to sustain me for days. Half-eaten Nutri Grain bars, crushed Goldfish crackers, and open packets of almonds are all nestled in there, along with a generous dusting of crumbs at the bottom. While I often complain about the mess, in a pinch, those crumbs could be a lifesaver.
I do long for the days of a neat little purse filled only with my essentials. But as a mom, being prepared is now my reality. I might not be able to find my favorite lip balm, but if someone has a diaper disaster at the park, I’ve got them covered. Life with kids may be messy, but it’s also wonderfully chaotic.
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Summary
The transformation of a mom’s purse from a personal accessory to a chaotic storage space for kids’ items is a relatable journey for many mothers. The article humorously explores the challenges of motherhood, highlighting the blend of personal and family needs while emphasizing the importance of being prepared for anything.