Remember before kids, when you’d shove a credit card, cell phone and lip gloss into a tiny clutch that matched your outfit and head out on the town? Those were the days.
Now that you’re a mom, chances are your purse is more like Mary Poppins’ magic carpet bag, except instead of containing an enchanted potted plant and hat stand, it’s got everything needed to head off (or wait out) a toddler meltdown.
And I do mean everything.
The apocalypse could come and my purse and I would be bunker ready. My tote is so packed with weird stuff, it weighs roughly the same as my child, which actually helps me balance when I’m carrying both.
If you reached into my purse–which I don’t recommend if you have any open wounds–you’d find all of these things and more:
- A half-eaten lollipop covered in a fine dusting of Goldfish cracker crumbs that I promised to “save for later”
- Sunscreen that is SPF 50, non-aerosol, oxybenzone and paraben free, and more expensive than my average haircut
- A box of princess Band-Aids with only Anna left, because everybody wants to be Elsa
- Punch cards for 5 different ice cream and frozen yogurt shops
- Toy cars, a magic wand and bubbles for throwing when angry
- A decomposing apple
- Used Kleenex
- A few teaspoons of sand
- A tiny flashlight for my kid to shine directly into my eyes, especially when I’m driving
- An empty bottle of hand sanitizer
- Wipes, wipes and more wipes
- A lifetime supply of underwear, because that 3-day potty training is taking more like 6 months
- A leak-proof straw bottle that is currently leaking everywhere
- Phone with a cracked face from when toddler threw it
- Broken crayons and dried out markers
- A masterpiece scrawled on a napkin
- A totally used up Starbucks gift card that I can’t seem to throw away because it reminds me of coffee
- Raisins, nuts, cut-up fruit and other untouched healthy snacks that were rejected in favor of cookies
- An extra outfit to replace the one that gets soaked while jumping in muddy puddles (thanks a lot, Peppa)
- Another extra outfit because that car sick phase might not actually be a phase
- A bib with yesterday’s lunch still rotting in the pocket
- Reading glasses, because changing tiny toy batteries is making me go blind
- A souvenir penny that cost me a dollar and is now worthless
- Lip gloss, because I may be a mom but I’m not an animal