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Size of purse speaks volumes
By Debbie Farmer
You can always tell a mom by the size of her purse. Before the birth of my children I carried a petite, fashionable leather bag with a narrow strap and a monogrammed designer label. It was just the right size to hold all of my personal necessities: a tube of lipstick and a credit card.
After I became a mother I traded it for a "mom" purse: a waterproof, canvas diaper bag with a giant Winnie-the-Pooh emblem instead of a Gucci label. Every time I left the house I had enough supplies to cross the Sahara Desert--twice. It held three sets of clothes, a box of diapers, a portable changing table, bottles for 12 feedings, and a hot plate to warm the milk.
When my son was born I needed a bag that could hold supplies for two children. I couldn't find anything large enough that I could lift, so I converted my car into a giant traveling purse. It was portable, had several handy compartments and, in case of emergency, we could live off the crumbs on the floorboard for a week. I just had to be careful turning corners.
I knew sitting in the car had become too dangerous when I lost my children under an avalanche of old gum wrappers and banana peels on the way to the store. I decided to switch to plastic grocery bags since they are waterproof, disposable, and their neutral tones match any outfit. Besides, I could carry up to three on each arm without cutting off my circulation and I wouldn't have to rescue my children every time I made a right turn.
I thought it was a wonderful idea until I sat on a bench outside the mall to rest with my children and an elderly lady approached us. "Poor darlings," she said shaking her head.
"Mommy?" my daughter asked. "Why did that lady give you a dollar?"
"She must've thought we were selling Girl Scout cookies," I said as I quickly gathered the bags and herded my children towards the car.
When my youngest was potty trained, I tossed out the grocery bags and the diapers, and rushed to the mall to purchase a new purse. I couldn't wait to travel with nothing but the wind at my back, a song in my heart and a narrow strap on my shoulder.
"Can I help you?" the sales clerk asked as we entered the store.
"I need a real purse," I said. "Something sleek, fashionable and wildly impractical."
She looked at the plastic burns on my arms and nodded. "Let me show you our most popular style. "
She steered me down the aisle and lifted a tiny patent leather bag.
"This is from our compact line," she said.
I turned it over and found "Freedom" monogrammed on the side instead of a rubber cartoon character.
The sales clerk continued. "It's light and very delicate. The outside is sensitive to the tiniest scratch."
I put the flimsy strap on my shoulder and looked in the mirror. The purse looked great, but I knew it wouldn't last a day at my house and I wondered where I'd put the sippy cups and crackers.
"And there's only room for a tube of lipstick and a credit card," she added.
"I'll take it!" I cried, clutching it to my chest. "It's perfect!"
Then I saw a large canvas bag with three waterproof pockets and plastic cup holder hanging alone on a rack.
"This one's called the 'Practical Woman,' " the clerk said.
I put the wide nylon strap on my shoulder and looked in the mirror. I expected to find "The Mother of Two" embroidered in the canvas. I thought for a moment.
"I'll take both," I said.
The clerk nodded knowingly as she rang them up. After she clipped the tags and handed them to me, I unzipped the canvas bag and put the smaller one inside. I felt giddy as I slung the strap over my shoulder and strolled to the car. I was finally fashionable and practical--and I didn't even need to buy matching shoes.
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Willow Glen, California Since 1992
