Parenthood – there’s a label for that

Six months ago, I wrote a post about the indelible marks of motherhood. The things that make you realise you’re a parent. Not always what you’d expect.

Today, as I chopped fruit and dispensed Vegemite to make two school lunches, I came across another one. One of those little things that you realise mark you out forever – and to everyone else – as a parent.

Every single item of plastic ware – Tupper or otherwise – in my cupboard has a name on it. Sometimes it’s a fancy label with one or other of the boys’ names. Other times it’s a hurried scrawl, where I’ve written the family name in (hopefully) permanent texta. The Builder takes his lunch to work in carefully labelled containers. In case he forgets which ones are his, I guess…

Parents carry containers with labels. It’s an indisputable fact. We might as well wear them on our foreheads.

Is everything in your cupboard labelled? Do you still lose container lids like I do? 

[image: I also realised that I do not put love notes in the family lunchboxes. Clearly I am remiss. Perhaps I need some like these from kikicomin/etsy]