Breaking the Big Bag Habit

In the past, I have occasionally (and rightly so) been accused of having a Type-A personality, but I think most people would agree that having children has greatly mellowed me. Indeed, I like to believe that my kiddos have infused my life with love, magic, purpose, meaning, friendship, laughter—ah, the list goes on and on. However, at times, my lingering Type-A tendencies can nonetheless arise.

Take this example: I have an almost desperate need to be prepared for anything. I overpack in extremity for even the smallest of trips. At the grocery store, I frequently buy in bulk (although, to be honest, I did learn this trick from my husband—thank you, Esmith!). And diaper bags—don't even get me started on diaper bags! Then of course there's my biggest and most pressing mode of preparation: My name is Lori, and I carry a big purse.

In college, my purse of preference was small, bright, and easy to carry. Hey, I didn't need much back then! As the years wore on—and my responsibilities increased—I found the subsequent size of my purse growing larger. It was a gradual transformation, one that I was peripherally aware of over time, but it has recently become an undeniable bad habit.

Currently, I carry a large zebra-striped leather bag. You can't miss it! If I accidentally lose my keys within its dark interior, it might be days, even weeks, before they resurface. Often I panic when I can't find my wallet, my checkbook, or my sunglasses when I want them. I've stalled lines at Wal-Mart searching for a single item. Have I really become ONE OF THOSE women?

Last week, after witnessing many of these rather embarrassing events, Erik pleaded with me to clean out my purse. At first, I resisted. There was nothing wrong with my purse! I NEEDED those items. All of them. Yes, I did. I might've even growled if he went near the thing.

Then I sighed. Dropped my shoulders. It was time....GRRR!

Experts claim that the first step to overcoming a bad habit is to admit you have it. Thus, I am including my big purse confessional on the blog. How so? As I cleaned out my most recent (although not the largest ever) purse, I kept a tally of everything that emerged from its dusty, murky depths. Buckle up, people, it's going to be quite a ride....

Two packs of peppermint gum, mini Goofy and Mickey figurines, assorted crayons in a variety of colors, a Strawberry Shortcake notepad, sunglasses, a toy ring (bling bling!), some M&Ms, a wrapped straw, a handful of cold, hard McDonalds fries, a breast pad (although I stopped breast-feeding three months ago), seven hairbows, a container of baby food, three baby spoons, crumbled coupons, hand lotion, Tylenol, four red pens, two mechanical pencils, a black pen, a small booklight, ubiquitous feminine hygiene products, a small baby book, one large single sock, two pairs of white baby socks, a pink glove, a toy cell phone, a real cell phone, a wallet, a checkbook, half a caramel candy bar (wrapped up), a Barbie brush, a regular brush, two containers of hand sanitizer, a plush football, a digital camera with accompanying cord, Tide To Go, one Barbie shoe, unidentifiable crumbs, Disney Princess wet wipes, an orange peeler, some plastic silverware, a small mirror, wadded (but clean!) Kleenex, small ponytail holders, instructions on how to use Bendaroos, some foundation, and my sanity.

Oh, wait, forget that last one. I obviously lost it a long time ago!