I must admit to being insatiably curious about some things. This is one of them. When I see harried mothers juggling offspring at shopping centres or glamorous women shopping at high end stores, my thought is usually the same.
What's in your bag?
Not because I want what they have in there. But because I just like to know. I'm curious like that.
I have a love of handbags. The bigger the better. It's interesting to note that my need for bigger ones began at roughly the same time my first child arrived. It is only in recent months that they've stopped stashing nappies and bottle of milk. Yes my offspring were all late to toilet training.
The last couple of years saw me toting round a black Mimco handbag that was my pride and joy. I had it on lay-by and proudly paid it off over a number of weeks. Strangely I'm more attached to it than I would have been if I'd been able to afford it outright.
The past few months have seen a bit of a change though. Firstly, I'm no longer toting nappies and milk around. Tip for those of you that do this. Make sure the lid on your milk is FIRMLY SECURED. Trust me on this.
Secondly I had therapy. The link between therapy and handbags may seem odd but it saw me break free of my lifelong need to wear black most of the time. Now I take pride in wearing bright colours. I'm not waif like or a size 10 but I'm happy in my skin at long last.
You may know I recently bought a new bag. A richly pink, gorgeously weaved bag. It's love. True love.
And yesterday I did the "back to school" restock.
I don't know about you but there are certain items that HAVE to be in my bag before the school year begins. Because they'll be needed somewhere down the track for sure. So yesterday I did my bi-annual re-stock of "must have or the world will collapse around me" items.
So I've tipped out the contents of my handbag to show you. Please note I have only just managed to jam my wallet shut as it's bursting with loose coins and receipts that I still haven't filed away.

Firstly, please don't judge me, and secondly yes, it's only panadol.
So here's my question. What's in your bag?
ETA Megan just reminded me. My sakittome bag also goes in here. It's still lying on the work surface from being used last night. I LOVE my reusable bag.

I'm trying to figure out how this happened. Firstly I should explain I'm not a huge fan of candy canes. Eating them, that is. I like looking at them, who doesn't like the shiny red and white look of them? But I'd rather eat something else. Which is probably why I don't understand why my children are OBSESSED with eating the things.
And even more puzzling is why I got into the situation where I have THREE HUNDRED CANDY CANES in my house.
Yes you read that right.
300.
How?
Why?
Well it all began, as it usually does, in a small house in a dark forest....
Actually it began with a rescue mission to find a white t'shirt for my son on a Monday after school with all 3 offspring in tow. His had somehow gone missing at school and it was for his Christmas project and I needed to replace it urgently. Naturally, because I needed one, there were none to be found anywhere. I dragged three increasingly annoyed kids from store to store to find a t'shirt that had clearly sold out, as I am sure many schools are doing similar projects. I'd even felt a bit smug when I'd bought him one initially as soon as the project was announced. Murphy's Law anyone?
In the end Mr. Small, who I had wisely put in the stroller, lost his marbles somewhere between the kids clothing section and the Christmas decoration department. I mean the meltdown from hell, the whole schmozzle. In a vain effort to distract him I picked up a container of candy canes.
100 candy canes to be precise. for five dollars
I don't know why I didn't snatch at the tinsel or shiny baubles or something else, but I was tired. I was a desperate woman. I had suffered enough.
He clutched at the container like a drowning man does to a life raft. I gently tried to take it back and he would Not. Let. Go.
Then Miss Medium looked at me plaintively and before I knew it she was holding a container of 100 candy canes as well.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and sighed. I knew what was coming. "Ok Mr. Large, here's yours."
And so here they sit, 300 candy canes (minus the ones they've already eaten)
At least they're miniature ones I guess.
Have you ever caved in out of desperation?