If This Bag Could Talk

The other night as I was straightening up the house after dinner I decided I should go through Adam's diaper bag, clean it out and store it away. It's rarely used any more, because now he has a "school bag" that is much more conducive to being shoved in a little cubby during the day-- that is, when it's not being flung around the classroom by any number of sweet, precious little toddlers.

So I sat down beside the bag and began to reminisce a little. I bought the bag at a Franklin Covey store, on sale, about two weeks before my due date. I was at the store buying calendar refills for 2006 and a diaper bag was the last thing on my mind. Probably the first thing on my mind was "when's my next meal?" but I won't bore you with Tales of the Fifty Pound Weight Gain right now.

Anyway, I saw the bag on the 50% sale rack and didn't hesitate a minute to buy it because it was roomy, easy to see into, and an oh! so! fashionable! shade of blue. It never once crossed my mind that my husband wouldn't really be into carrying such a neat shade of blue...but he was a good sport about it all those months. A really good and fashionable sport.

As I began to clean out the bag, I found some funny things amongst the diapers and burp cloths: two packets of Splenda, Essie "Rock the Croc" nail polish, a business card for a graphics printer, two mints, dental floss, my library card, and a beer bottle cap.

What new mom doesn't cut calories with well-manicured nails while searching for graphics help, with fresh breath, clean teeth, a stack of books in her arms and a beer in her hand?

Once cleaned out, I put it on the top shelf in the foyer closet. I didn't intend to leave it there forever, just for a few days until I decided what to do with it: bronze it and put it on a stand in Adam's room or maybe carry it myself because it's so darn fashionable.

As I went about my other chores that night I couldn't stop thinking about that diaper bag. I wondered what stories it would tell if it could talk. It went with me everywhere the first year of Adam's life. It was my constant companion.

It might talk about those very first days after Adam came home. How I'd gingerly lay him in the car seat, buckle him in, tuck those blankets around his little body and hoist him into the car. It would tell you how carefully I packed in those early days. More than enough diapers, all in a neat row. Wash cloths, burp cloths, bibs, and at least two extra outfits, all matching, coordinated and in pristine condition.

It might laugh at my ziploc bag obsession...large, small and all sizes in between. So many uses, so many ziplocs.

And, oh! The bottles! That bag would tell you about the hundreds of bottles it carried around in its time. Eight ouncers, four ouncers, juice, formula, soy milk.... countless spills and near misses.

The bag had a special place in the bottom of the stroller. It fit just perfectly if the stroller back was upright. If it was fully reclined, the poor bag was a little squished, but I am sure it didn't mind. It liked shopping and boy, did we do some SHOPPING together! The ladies at Nordstrom knew us by name and they loved that bag. "I swear that could be a Kate Spade," they'd say. The bag liked that. Bags like Kate Spade.

I think the bag might also get you laughing with stories about the songs I'd sing to Adam. I'd make them up as I was driving. They weren't that good and I can't sing, but they seemed to do the trick.

And that bag has seen its share of tears. Oh, my. The tears. A new mama with a baby and miles to go before she gets home is a blubbering mess sometimes. The bag understood. It never let me down. It was always there, packed and blue and fashionable.

So tonight I moved it from the foyer to to Adam's closet. Inside, I tucked his first pair of shoes, a little outfit that's just too cute to part with, and his first little hat.

If that bag could talk, I'll bet it would be telling a bedtime story to my sweet little boy. I think it would like to come out of the closest and live life with us again, with new cargo to tote around.

It is, after all, very fashionable.