Thanks to P-Touch for sending me a labeler to review and saving my favorite tee shirts from ending up being worn by random teenagers on instagram. All opinions are my own.
When my children were little, shopping for them was a pleasure. So much so that I often skimped on/neglected the things that I wanted for myself. Little tiny shoes, stacking snack containers, custom made stroller liners and such took over my budget and my shopping trips. My wardrobe suffered. For years I bought diaperbags, instead of handbags. You know, for the kids…
I wasn’t really buying all that stuff for them though. They could have cared less what shoes they wore or bag I carried their butt cream in.
The point is that when my kids were little, all their stuff was really my stuff. Right down to the extra cheerios on their plate. Mine. I knew where it was and nobody tried to steal it.
Now that I have teenagers the tables have turned. I’m no longer squandering my last dime on their custom hairbows. I’ve managed to re-learn how to enjoy shopping for cosmetics and accessories in adult sizes. My handbag collection is back in the game. But I’ve got bigger problems.
Suddenly, what’s mine is theirs. Or so they seem to think. I don’t like it, not one bit.
My daughters are in the habit of helping themselves to my stuff and then acting surprised and bewildered about my objections hours later. I’m lucky if I go to the bathroom and they’ve left me toilet paper.
From conditioner to clothing, make up to shoes, my stuff has been following a bizarre migratory pattern, with precious items disappearing and occasionally being sighted on instagram, worn by one of their friends who slept over last week.
“Wait… That was YOUR shirt? OMG I had no idea. It was in my laundry basket” *
*said the daughter who folded and sorted the laundry
“I thought you said I could use your curling iron!”**
**said the smuggler of my $200 curling iron that was found on the floor of the theater dressing room, still plugged in and overheated hours after the performance. I did say she could use it. Once. Months earlier. In my bathroom.
“Wait? This is your charging cord? I thought it was mine…” ***
*** said everyone in my entire family after every single charging cord and pair of earphones I’ve ever purchased in desperation disappeared.
Enough already. I’m staking a claim to what’s mine. January is National Organization Month and this is my personal project.
With the diligence of a mom sending her child off to camp, I’m going to label my own stuff in the hopes of protecting it from the grabbing hands that grab all they can around here.
If you have teenagers, I suggest you do the same.
Here’s what I love about the Brother P-Touch PT-D200 labeler:
- Quickly access fonts, symbols, frames or Deco Mode patterns using the dedicated one-touch keys.The graphical display lets you preview text and layout prior to printing – so you know exactly how your label will look before you print.
- Create personalized, decorative labels using the large variety of fonts, frames and symbols. Quickly print pre-designed, eye-catching labels from the Deco Mode gallery or use the 2-line, name badge designs to create labels for meetings and events. The large, built-in memory stores up to 30 of your favorite labels — so reprinting them in the future is a snap.
- Uses durable, easy peel, laminated “TZe” series tapes up to 12mm wide — perfect for indoor or outdoor use. Operates on 6 “AAA” batteries or AC adapter (both sold separately).
I think I ‘d better label the labeler. My kids are liking it a little too much.
Jennifer says
I have 3 teenagers, and I practically need to label my underwear. My shirts disappear, my straightener winds up downstairs, and my lipstick is suspiciously smaller. With 3 more girls coming up in age, I had better buy a labeler, and quick!
momfluential says
It’s a personal investment Jennifer! I highly recommend it. I find threatening labels work the best as they ignore the ones with my name on it, since everything I own is basically theirs. On the plus side, I can’t be completely uncool given that they steal and wear my clothes, right?