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Okay I need to talk about Disney. Not the rides. Not the churros. Not the Lightning Lane situation. The bag. I need to talk about the bag because I just spent twelve hours at Magic Kingdom with a four-year-old and a two-year-old and I carried one bag the entire day and I never once set it on the ground, dug through it looking for something, or asked my husband to hold it. Twelve hours. Ninety-one degrees. Twenty-two thousand steps. One small backpack. Let me back up. Last year we did Disney and I brought a tote. A big tote. The kind you can fit a rolled-up beach towel in. I brought it because I was carrying for two kids and I figured bigger is better. By noon that tote had: sunscreen, wipes, diapers, two sippy cups, snacks, a change of clothes, my wallet, my phone, a portable charger, a rain poncho, stickers, Tylenol, and a sweater for the AC in the restaurant. It weighed so much the strap left a red mark on my shoulder. I set it on the ground in every line. I tripped over it on Buzz Lightyear. My husband carried it for an hour because my shoulder was done and he looked like a man who had been asked to carry a purse and didn't know what to do with his face. We left at 7pm. I had a headache from the strap. My daughter was crying because she was tired. My husband was carrying the tote, a bag of souvenirs, and our son. I was carrying nothing and still felt like I had been hauling something all day. Because I had. This year I brought the backpack. The same small backpack I've been using for everything since my friend Aisha showed up to a playdate in March with one on her back and both hands free and her kid walking beside her and I thought: I've been doing this wrong. I packed it the night before Disney. Same stuff. Sunscreen. Wipes. Diapers. Two sippy cups in the side pockets. Goldfish in one Ziploc. Gummy bears in another. A change of clothes for each kid. My wallet. My phone. Portable charger. Small first aid kit. Stickers. It all went in. It zipped. I picked it up and it weighed nothing. Here is what happened at Disney with one small bag: 8am. Rope drop. Both straps on. Both hands holding a kid's hand. Walked through the gates. Didn't set the bag on the ground at security — the cast member waved me through after a quick look. 9:30am. Tiana's Bayou Adventure line. Forty-five minutes. I pulled stickers out of the front pocket without taking the bag off my back. My daughter stuck Tiana on my arm. My son ate Goldfish. I never reached for anything I couldn't find. 11am. My son needed a diaper change. I walked into the bathroom, unzipped the main compartment, had a diaper and wipes in my hand in four seconds. Changed him on the fold-down table. Repacked. Done. The woman next to me was digging through a diaper bag the size of a duffel, looking for wipes. I wanted to say something. I didn't. 12:30pm. Lunch at Pecos Bill's. I hung the bag on the back of my chair. It didn't tip the chair. It didn't take up the seat next to me. It just hung there, small and out of the way, while I cut chicken nuggets into pieces. 2pm. Meltdown. My daughter, not me. She wanted a Minnie ear headband. I said no. She sat on the ground in Fantasyland and screamed. I pulled a sippy cup out of the side pocket without bending down. Handed it to her. Bought myself thirty seconds. Pulled a sticker sheet from the front pocket. Bought myself four minutes. Crisis managed. 4pm. A woman in line behind us at the Jungle Cruise tapped my shoulder. She had a toddler on her hip and a backpack the size of a camping pack. "Excuse me. I've been behind you in three lines today and you keep pulling things out of that tiny bag. Where did you get it?" I told her. She typed it into her phone. 7pm. Fireworks. My daughter was asleep on my husband's shoulder. My son was on my hip. The bag was on my back. My hands were free to hold my son and record the fireworks on my phone at the same time. My husband had nothing on his shoulders except our daughter. He was not carrying a tote. He was not carrying a purse. He was not carrying a souvenir bag. He was just carrying his kid. He looked at me during the fireworks and said, "This was the best Disney day we've ever had." He was right. And it wasn't the rides. It was the bag. I added a little initial charm and a chain when I first got it — that's when it became mine, not just a mom bag. I washed it when we got home because sunscreen had dripped on the strap. Threw it in the washing machine. Came out perfect. If you're planning a Disney trip and you're already dreading the bag situation. If you've been the mom who carries a tote through a theme park and ends the day with a headache from the strap and a red mark on your shoulder. If you've ever watched another woman at a park pull snacks and wipes and sippy cups out of a tiny bag and thought: what does she know that I don't. It's the Minimax, by Emmafy. They have checkered, solids, even leopard — I've never seen this many cute colorways in one place. They also make these cute little wallets that match. And they're doing a buy one get one free right now. Your move. https://emmafy.com/pages/minimax-lst1 ________________