What happened to my handbag when I became a mum at 40?

From a patent leather clutch to enormous rucksack

Before I became a mum, I had some lovely handbags. Little patent leather clutches, smart shoulder bags and the sort of impractical accessories that looked fabulous with heels but couldn’t accommodate much beyond a lipstick and a purse. I didn’t need to think about spare clothes, baby wipes or emergency snacks. I could just pick up my bag and leave the house, assuming I could find my keys.

Then I had Cyrus at 40, and the handbags were gradually pushed to the back of the wardrobe. In their place came a rucksack. A large one, with numerous compartments and enough room to pack for a weekend away. The heels went the same way as the handbags, replaced by trainers and flats that were much better suited to nursery runs and chasing after a toddler who had suddenly decided walking was beneath him.

I still liked getting dressed up, but most mornings I was more concerned with getting everyone out of the house on time. There was always something to remember, something to pack or something that had mysteriously disappeared five minutes before we needed to leave. Before long, I was carrying so much stuff that I began to wonder whether I actually needed any of it.

I gave myself five working days to find out what was actually lurking in my rucksack.

The great working mum rucksack experiment

One Monday morning, while searching for my office keys, I found three pens, an old receipt, a slightly battered snack and something sticky that I decided not to investigate. My keys were nowhere to be seen, despite having put them in the bag only a few minutes earlier.

I used to watch other mothers empty enormous handbags onto café tables while searching for their purses and wonder why they needed to carry so much. Now I was doing exactly the same thing, although I still couldn’t explain why I had accumulated quite so much rubbish.

I decided to take a closer look at what was in my rucksack over a five-day working week. Was I well organised, or had I just become one of those women who carried everything on the off chance that somebody might need it? By Friday, I hoped to have an answer, or at least a slightly lighter bag.

Pens, Post-it notes and my stationery addiction

I’ve always loved stationery. Give me a decent notebook and a pen that writes nicely, and I’m happy. I’ve never understood why anybody would put up with a dreadful biro when there are perfectly good pens available. My rucksack contained enough of them to supply a small office, along with Post-it notes, scraps of paper and a notebook that I kept meaning to use properly.

Some were for work, others for shopping lists and the odd thought that came to me while rushing between nursery and the office. Unfortunately, by the time I’d found a pen, I’d often forgotten what I wanted to write. Cyrus also took a liking to my stationery, and anything left unattended was fair game. More than once, something I’d intended to use for work ended up covered in his latest artistic efforts.

Snacks, sandwiches and the disappearing lunch break

Before having Cyrus, I managed a proper lunch. I could sit down, eat something reasonably healthy and even read a few pages of a book. Once I returned to work, lunch became whatever I could grab between meetings and everything else that needed doing.

Mornings were hectic. There was Cyrus to get ready for nursery, his bag to pack, H’s shirt to iron and my own things to organise. By the time I’d managed all that and got myself dressed, making a packed lunch for myself was usually the last thing on my mind. I ended up buying sandwiches and snacks from whichever shop had the shortest queue, often eating them in a hurry.

I always carried something for Cyrus, too. Children are always starving about five minutes after refusing breakfast. Of course, the snack I’d packed wasn’t necessarily the one he wanted. Sometimes it was the wrong flavour, sometimes it had broken in half and sometimes he changed his mind. Apparently, a broken biscuit is just not the same.

The water bottle that goes everywhere

My water bottle was another permanent fixture. It was practical, sensible and far too big for any of my old handbags. I was determined to drink enough water during the day when rushing between work and nursery meant I often forgot to stop for anything. I wasn’t trekking across the Sahara. I was going to an office. Still, the bottle stayed, although there were plenty of days when I got home and realised I’d barely touched it. So much for my good intentions.

The portable first-aid department

My rucksack also contained plasters, tissues, hand sanitiser and the occasional painkiller or cold remedy for my own use. Before having a child, I rarely thought about carrying a plaster. Afterwards, I seemed to anticipate every possible scraped knee, bumped head or minor disaster.

Small children have a knack for injuring themselves or having a nose bleed at the most inconvenient moments, usually when you’re nowhere near home. Having a few basics to hand made sense, although I probably didn’t need quite as many supplies as I’d accumulated. Medicines stayed securely packed and out of Cyrus’s reach, while the plasters and tissues were easier to get at. I was becoming good at producing things from my bag, even if finding my own purse remained a challenge.

Chanel, lipstick and a little bit of me

Somewhere beneath the practical stuff were a few things that were entirely mine. A lipstick, a compact mirror and a small bottle of Chanel perfume had survived the move from handbag to rucksack.

I’d spent forty years enjoying clothes, perfume, books and the occasional excuse to dress up. I wasn’t going to stop liking those things just because I’d had a baby. Admittedly, there were mornings when I barely had time to brush my hair, but a quick application of lipstick before walking into the office made me feel a bit more presentable.

I didn’t wear perfume or lipstick to prove I was still the woman I’d been before motherhood. I wore them because I liked them. And if I was going to spend the day carrying baby wipes and half-eaten snacks, I saw no reason why Chanel couldn’t come along too.

If I was going to spend the day carrying baby wipes and half-eaten snacks, I saw no reason why Chanel couldn’t come along too.

The things I couldn’t leave at home

Purse, keys and baby wipes

If there was one thing I couldn’t manage without, it was baby wipes. I originally bought them for their intended purpose, but soon discovered they were useful for almost everything. Sticky fingers, spilled drinks, muddy marks, food on clothes and mysterious substances on the pushchair could all be dealt with using a wipe.

I began to wonder how I’d managed forty years without carrying a packet. My purse and keys, meanwhile, were another matter. Despite being among the few things I genuinely needed every day, they had an annoying habit of disappearing into the depths of my rucksack.

I could find an old receipt, a pen without a lid and a hair tie I didn’t remember owning, but finding my keys often involved emptying half the bag. There is nothing quite like standing outside your own front door with a tired toddler while rummaging through a rucksack that seems to have swallowed them.

Books, Sellotape and wheatgrass powder

This was where things became a little difficult to explain. Alongside the usual belongings, I found a book, several Post-it notes, a small roll of Sellotape and some wheatgrass powder.

The book was understandable. I’ve always loved reading, and I carried one in the hope that I might find a quiet moment during the day. Occasionally, I did. More often, it travelled to work and back without a single page being turned. Still, I liked having it there, just in case.

The Sellotape was more of a mystery. I couldn’t remember why I’d put it in my bag, although I was convinced there must have been a sensible reason at the time. Perhaps something had needed repairing, or maybe I’d been wrapping a present. Whatever the explanation, it had apparently been travelling around with me for weeks.

Then there was the wheatgrass powder. I’ve always been interested in fitness and nutrition, and becoming a mum hadn’t changed that. Finding the time to eat properly and exercise, however, was another matter. I’d packed the wheatgrass with every intention of adding something healthy to my day, although I couldn’t remember the last time I’d used it. I clearly had the right intentions, even if putting them into practice was proving a little more difficult.

What five days of rummaging taught me

By Friday, I’d established that I was carrying far too much. I had several pens when one would have done, scraps of paper I no longer needed and things that had been sitting in the bottom of my bag for weeks. The Sellotape was still there, and I hadn’t used it once. But there were plenty of things I did need. The snacks came in handy, the wipes were used almost daily and I was glad to have plasters when Cyrus inevitably scraped something.

I suppose having a baby at 40 made the change from handbag to rucksack more noticeable. I’d spent years leaving the house with very little to think about beyond my own plans. Now I had nursery bags to pack, meals to organise and a small person who could change his mind about absolutely anything at a moment’s notice.

I sometimes missed being able to leave the house with just my purse, keys and lipstick. A trip to the shops no longer meant just putting on a coat and going. It involved checking whether Cyrus needed changing, whether he’d eaten and whether I had everything we might need while we were out.

The rucksack wasn’t glamorous, but it was useful. It went everywhere with me during those early years, from nursery drop-offs to work and the countless little outings that took more preparation than a weekend away.

My working mum’s rucksack essentials checklist

Will I ever return to a handbag?

I still have some of my old handbags tucked away in the wardrobe. Occasionally, I take one out and remember when I could fit everything I needed into something barely larger than a paperback. I haven’t given up on them. There are still evenings out, meals with H and occasions when I want to wear something that doesn’t involve trainers.

But during those early years of motherhood, the rucksack was far more useful. It was heavy, usually untidy and never quite as organised as I’d have liked. On the other hand, it generally contained something useful when I needed it, assuming I could find it among the receipts and discarded snacks.

I never did establish why I was carrying Sellotape, and I’m certain the wheatgrass powder would have been better off in the kitchen cupboard. I also discovered that having several compartments doesn’t necessarily make a bag more organised. It simply gives you more places to lose things.

As for my keys, they continued to disappear with alarming regularity. I could carry enough supplies to deal with most minor emergencies, yet still find myself standing outside the front door, emptying my bag onto the doorstep.

At least I always had a pen. Usually several.

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Occasional stories, experiments, discoveries and questions from Saffron & Cyrus.