Before becoming a mom, my life was filled with simple comforts that I didn’t truly appreciate: a body that behaved as expected, smooth skin, and the luxury of uninterrupted bathroom time. I had a disposable income, carefree evenings, and a car that didn’t resemble a snack war zone. But above all, I miss the days when my purse was entirely my own.
In my pre-parenthood days, my handbag held only items I needed—makeup, a hairbrush, a mirror, and the occasional ibuprofen. I was blissfully unprepared for unexpected messes, snack delays, and imaginary injuries. The responsibilities of parenthood were far from my mind.
Fast forward to today, and my once-pristine purse looks like a chaotic toy store exploded inside it. “Purse” doesn’t even do it justice; I’ve had to upgrade to a massive tote to accommodate the endless amount of kid-related debris I now carry. Sure, my essentials are still in there, but they’re buried beneath a sticky avalanche of my children’s belongings. Now, reaching for my lip balm often results in pulling out a toy dinosaur or a crumbled granola bar instead.
The amount of paper clutter rivals that of a government archive. I wouldn’t consider myself a coupon queen, but my purse is overflowing with expired discounts on everything from juice boxes to jeans. Alongside these are developmental handouts from the pediatrician, remnants of long-past appointments, and notes that make no sense to me anymore (like “fashion water”? What even is that?).
The toys are a whole other story. What started as a few small cars to keep my kids entertained during errands has morphed into a collection that could fill an entire playroom. Superhero figurines, fast-food toys, and random trinkets now find a permanent home in my purse, often lost among the crumbs and chaos.
Trash also seems to multiply when you have kids. It’s as if there’s a black hole for trash cans; the moment you need one, there isn’t one in sight. So, in go the used tissues, empty wrappers, and gum that’s been chewed beyond recognition, all of which I’ll eventually forget about until I dig in and discover the remnants of my neglect.
Yet, there’s a silver lining. Should I ever find myself stranded, the contents of my purse could sustain me for quite some time. Half-eaten snack bars, crushed crackers, and a treasure trove of crumbs could get me through even the toughest days. Although I tend to complain when the crumbs get stuck under my nails, that layer of crumbs could be a lifesaver in an emergency.
I often long for the days of a tidy purse filled only with my own essentials. But here I am, forever prepared for whatever my children throw at me. While I might struggle to find my gloss, I can certainly handle any messy situation that arises—in the park or elsewhere.
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In summary, motherhood has transformed my once-simple purse into a chaotic collection of my children’s possessions, making it a true reflection of my parenting life. While I may miss the simplicity of my past, I’ve adapted to always being prepared for whatever comes my way.