Bag Lady

Six. A half dozen.

That’s the MINIMUM number of bags it takes me to get out of the house in the morning.
Breastpump, Drew’s daycare gear, Zachary’s daycare gear, laptop bag, my lunch, Zachary’s bottles. I stopped carrying a purse a long time ago, or it might be seven. I am not including the baby carrier (complete with baby), nor the random one off things like food for daycare parties, extra clothes for splash day, or items for show and tell. That is insane. I am loaded down like a pack mule, and I watch my husband leave for work in the morning with ………………….KEYS. And maybe a coffee. (COFFEE!?!?!?!?)

I have done all that I can to pare down what I take along, but I can genuinely say that I need every bag I have. I’d like to think that someday I will be able to shed a bag or two, but I know full well that the diaper bag will give way to a bag of cleats and shin guards for soccer practice, the breast pump will morph into the kids school bags, the kids will need their own lunches, and so on and so forth. I can do almost any job in the world one handed, and I can carry a totally unseemly number of grocery bags into the house at one time. Is it any wonder my back is killing me?

When you see commericals and talk shows that talk about the modern working mother, struggling to juggle a bunch of different balls, don’t be fooled. They aren’t balls. They are BAGS.