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DOUBLE TROUBLE: The purse: A microcosm of motherhood
Having a baby changes everything. Advertising slogan, yes. Cliché, yes. But a cliché that’s usually true.
Some are big things: Money, time, the importance of eight hours of sleep in your life, the fact that there will forever after be someone you worry about more than yourself.
And some are little things.
I used to carry the tiniest purses I could find, some not much more than a wallet attached to a cord. Let other women schlep around huge totes stuffed with makeup and other meaningless garbage, I thought smugly. I prefer to travel light.
That was before Jim. And Sam. And trips to the store, etc., when I just didn’t want to drag the diaper bag along for the ride ... but was all too aware what would happen without certain precautionary measures.
So, what to do ...
You guessed it.
Today, a patchwork leather monstrosity sits next to my desk. I’m fond of its quirkiness — it’s the Frankenstein of bags — and I’ve seen bigger totes, but it’s still by far the largest non-diaper bag I’ve ever carried.
Searching for my keys a few days ago, I was dismayed to find that it was a more difficult task then anticipated. The purse was starting to reach critical mass, stuffed full of might-needs and what-ifs. Feeling ambitious, I leapt into the perhaps foolhardy task of cleaning it out.
Several hours later (at least, that’s what it felt like), I had:
• Three Matchbox cars, stuffed in there in a vain attempt to distract a restless 4-year-old who was stuck waiting at the doctor’s office. As I remember, they even worked for, oh, about five minutes.
• A diaper. Just in case.
• Another diaper. In a size the baby hasn’t worn for several months, I think.
• About 50 of those little disposable hand wipe packages they give you at the — ahem — finer dining establishments ... or at least the ones that have kiddie menus.
• Jimmy’s copy of “The 12 Dogs of Christmas” book, because Mommy absolutely refuses to sing it in public.
• One blue size 6- to 12-month sock.
• One white size 6- to 12-month sock.
• One black preschooler-size sandal. Now if I could only find the other one ...
• Three pacifiers.
• A small screwdriver (I’m not kidding) and three AA batteries. Because you never know when the musical toy whatever-it-is will die and leave you with bored kids.
• A plastic baggy full of brownish crumbs. At one point, I think they were graham crackers.
• Three lollipops, at least one of which had been unwrapped and partially consumed before being rewrapped and stuffed in there for safe-keeping.
• A handful of peppermints. Oh, wait ... those are for my husband.
• A jar of baby food and a spoon. Because when Sam wants to eat, he wants to eat NOW.
• A bib. See above.
• Two bottles of hand sanitizer. And, yes, they were there before the whole swine flu thing.
• My camera (you know, in case the kids do something cute).
• A small vial of Motrin. Yeah. That’s for me.
The purse is now cleaned out and restocked, a leaner, meaner bag of Mommy tricks. It probably weighs about a pound less, but with any luck, we have everything we had to survive a trip to the grocery store without the diaper bag.
At least, until Jim wants me to sing “The 12 Dogs of Christmas.”
Jill Keppeler is a page designer for Greater Niagara Newspapers. She can be reached at jill.keppeler@tonawanda-news.com.
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