Handbag essentials for the working mum of a toddler

Life as a new mum over 40 has a funny way of rearranging your priorities, and your handbag. Those glamorous days of slipping into heels and tottering out with a tiny patent leather clutch are behind me. Now, I have a rucksack that could comfortably double as a small weekend bag, packed to the brim with survival essentials. Flats or trainers are my daily companions, perfect for racing to nursery and dodging toddler tantrums without looking like I’ve just run a marathon.

The weekly rucksack audit

I started to wonder: am I less organised now, or have I finally cracked the art of preparedness? To find out, I conducted a very serious, highly unscientific study of my rucksack over the course of a working week.

Pens (for impromptu masterpieces)

I’ve always been a pen hoarder, and that hasn’t changed. In fact, it’s escalated. Pens are essential: for notes, doodles, and the occasional abstract toddler Picasso.

Snacks (the unsung heroes)

Packing for little C, ironing H’s shirt, planning nursery drop-offs, it’s a miracle if I even have time to think about lunch. I grab whatever sandwiches or snacks I can, usually from the nearest shop without a queue.

Water bottle

Hydration is non-negotiable. Petite handbags are no good for water bottles, which is why the rucksack is a must. Fainting mid-sprint to nursery is not the look I’m going for.

Mini first-aid kit

Kalms for cranky toddlers, band-aids for pushchair mishaps, Lemsip for inevitable seasonal bugs, and painkillers for “just in case.” Basically, a portable clinic with a side of maternal guilt prevention.

Mummy stuff

A swipe of Chanel, a dab of lipstick, the little things that remind me I am more than just a mum. Sometimes, that’s all the armour I need to face the day.

Purse, keys, and baby wipes

These essentials get lost approximately 47 times a week. Wipes are a mother’s best friend: spilled milk, smudged clothes, sticky hands—non-negotiable.

Books, Post-its, tape, and wheatgrass

Reading, notes, tape, and a tiny scoop of wheatgrass powder keep me sane, organised, and ever hopeful that I’ll sneak in a nutritional win amidst the chaos.

Final observation

By Friday, the lines between whose bag is whose are delightfully blurred. A five-day working week is enough to test even the most organised new mum over 40, and my rucksack has seen it all.

“A five-day working week is enough to test even the most organised new mum over 40, and my rucksack has seen it all.”