In Hot Pursuit of the Booty Bag
3 mins read

In Hot Pursuit of the Booty Bag

As a five foot little Momma who popped out two huge football players, I jiggled, juggled and cajoled those babies on my hip long after they could walk. I knew that once the boys were released into the world, the days of clinging to Momma would cease, permanently. So I ignored a few dull aches and pains and held onto those babies as tight and as long as I could.

Nine years later when my uterus closed for business and memories of potty training faded, along came Kirby, the French bulldog. The puppy quickly plumped to twenty-one pounds. Cream colored with black eyes, nose, and lips, Kirby and his wiggle walk are an amalgam of a piglet and a Pierrot clown. At two years old, I still carry him around on my hip like a baby. When the ears perch up, the head cocks 25 degrees to the left, the chestnut eyes plead, and the skin wrinkles, I succumb to that “Frenchie face,” and scoop him up cooing, ‘Mommy loves you,” whilst rocking the pooch, nuzzling his head, kissing his fur and losing myself in his scent. I’m powerless to resist this pup. He loves me completely and won’t ultimately ditch me for a blond with big boobs.


Although I tell my boys I’m invincible, I am not Elastigirl. The residual shoulder hunch from carrying the kids is evidence that I am neither pliable, nor expandable, and not quite as resilient as the superhero. It hasn’t been so easy to snap back into shape. Lugging around a Mom purse filled with everyitemwemayeverneedincaseofanemergency has exacerbated this condition. Fed up with soreness, I’ve become hostile to handbags and implore designers to BRING BACK THE FANNY-Pak! If this accessory triggers images of a Mickey Mouse powder blue nylon zipper pouch, squelch that thought. I’m talking about the next gen Booty Bag.

As I transport Kirby over puddles, hot pavement, and outside to potty at night, my body creaks like the wood planks in grandma’s house. The knotted tight shoulders and rickety lower back are resurrected from the previous decade’s load. No matter how many down dogs, triangle poses, and reverse warriors I perform, I can’t seem to re-align. Because of my love for kids and canines, I am embracing this phase gracefully, like an aging bottle of cabernet. In order to preserve the harvest and safeguard the grapes, I can no longer balance and counterbalance the satchel, shoulder bag, clutch, tote, or the messenger bag. My mature bum is way more capable of carrying the gear.

I’d like to place my order for three Booty Bags (sporty, daytime, and evening) in innovative shapes and colors to fill this fashion void and ultimate necessity. If you don’t like the re-branded name Booty Bag, I offer: Bum Bag, Fanny, Hipster, Badonka Belt, and Tush Topper. Clearly this comeback is about to happen.

After practicing law in California and Texas, Kimberly “Momma” Reiner returned home to Los Angeles to raise a family. During her hiatus, she accidentally started a fudge company, Momma Reiner’s Fudge®, that was one of Oprah’s Favorite Things, for O Magazine, and appeared on The Martha Stewart Show. Kimberlythen hooked up with law school classmate, Jenna Sanz-Agero, and became the Sugar Mommas. They released their first book, Sugar, Sugar: Every Recipe has a Story, (Andrews-McMeel) in 2011. Momma Reiner is currently working on her first novel, “Bar None: Surviving the California Bar Exam.” Follow her @MommaReiner where she’s thinking big thoughts & dreaming up crazy ideas.

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