I didn’t use a diaper bag very much – one of my many failings to adopt #momculture, I think – but even when I did, leaving the house was always a chore. It’s not that I’m scatterbrained, per se; I just tend to enjoy the chaos and flexibility of not planning and just seeing what happens. Which, by the way, wasn’t a good idea about having a baby in general, but worse specifically leaving the house with one.

Honestly, it kept me in the house more than it should have. The prospect of getting presentable to go out, getting us both fed, and remembering everything seemed insurmountable, especially when her nap battery was like three hours. Mom and tot drop in playgroup? Unless it’s literally next door, no thanks. Too much work.

I was glad at every stage I could finally carry less: first formula went, then the pacifier, then slowly we pared down the extra clothes and rash creams and et cetera. Diapers were the last to go (though extra clothes made a resurgence for a bit, hah!), but even now it still feels like a marvel that after four long years, I’m finally back to leaving the house with just phone-wallet-keys.