Tired old bag

If you have seen me out, you have seen me with this monstrosity. But, it's finally happened. I no longer carry a diaper bag- I have a grown up purse. Well, really more of a satchel since I do still have to carry diapers, fruit snacks and other emergency necessities. Right before we had Drew I justified getting a nice diaper bag. Poor idiot that I was, I thought extra pockets and a wipable fabric would make having two under the age of two easier. Don't get me wrong, looking back on it the more-expensive-than-Target price tag was well worth it since I have stuffed everything under the sun in it and taken it a million place and structurally it has still held up. And from a distance you couldn't tell how beat up and war torn it had gotten. But I knew, and it was driving me nuts.

It's kinda like my first car. My dad bought a standard Honda Civic. And failed to realize that it didn't have power steering. It was a shiny, new red car on the outside, but whenever I had to back out of a parking spot I would break into a cold sweat because it took so much muscle to turn. I know no one else cares what I put my wallet in but this little change has left me feeling like more of my own person and less like a bedraggled mama.