Lost and (Rarely) Found: The Endless Battle of School Gear

Honestly, if there were medals for losing school hats, lunchboxes, drink bottles, jumpers, you name it, my boys would be standing on that podium, waving proudly to an adoring crowd. The national anthem would play, I'd shed a tear, and the commentators would remark, "Look at that consistency, year after year, they’ve delivered."

My two boys, aged 9 and 10, have mastered the fine art of losing their stuff at school (and other places). It doesn’t matter if it’s labelled clearly with their names in bold permanent marker, stitched in lovingly, or engraved by Messi, it’s all destined for the Black Hole of school belongings, which is also where socks, or at least one side of a sock pair, go.

Every afternoon is a thrilling round of, "Where’s your jumper?"

"Um… at my desk?"

"Are you sure?"

"Or maybe in lost property? Wait, no, definitely after-school care."

Cue the next morning, me trudging into before-school care, finding the jumper tragically abandoned next to a tree, looking as sad as a lost puppy.

"Is this your jumper?"

"Oh yeah, that's right forgot I took it off to play soccer."

"Of course, you did, my darling, because jumpers clearly prefer hanging out on trees rather than on your body, def appropriate to just dump it wear you took it off!".

And don’t even get me started on lunchboxes.

“Where’s your lunchbox?”

"I don’t think I took it today."

"You definitely did, I packed it!"

"Oh yeah, must be on my desk."

Sure, because that is where you lunchbox should be. Left behind at your desk rather than coming home to be cleaned and repacked for tomorrow.

Next thing I know, is that it pops up in the lost property box, or it is found by another student who's mum or dad put a message in the class WhatsApp group: “Hi, I found your son's lunchbox. I will get Natalie to bring it in tomorrow for him.”

I've started fantasising about their birthdays:

"Mum, what are you getting me?"

"Well, sweetheart, you're getting a fabulous new lunchbox, a stylish drink bottle, another jumper (to match the other ten you lost), and a hat because the last four mysteriously vanished. Happy birthday!"

Maybe when a parent asks what they may like for a present I just say "If you have spare hats, jumpers, lunchboxes, or drink bottles, please wrap them and give that to him as a gift (can even leave your child's name on the item because tags mean nothing in our house!). Chances are your child will take them home next week anyway when said child leaves it at the desk, by the tree in the field, or wherever else belongings should be left."

My husband suggested attaching belongings to them, stitching their hat to the back of their jumper! but I'm convinced even if I glued jumpers onto their backs, they'd somehow Houdini themselves out of them. We’d find the jumpers looking confused, lying abandoned by the tree again.

I sometimes joke with my kids that maybe I'll lose the car keys and not be able to drive them to soccer training, or I'll forget to buy any food they like, forcing them to eat vegetables and whatever else is lurking in the cupboard (never the good stuff). Imagine if I was just as forgetful as them! I'd probably lose my job, my marriage, and perhaps even forget I had kids altogether, leaving them behind at the corner store when I popped in to grab Tim Tams to get through another exhausting day.

It’s not just school gear either. Soccer days mean turning up without boots or shin pads and hearing, "Mum, where did you put them?" Son, they're not my shin pads, I would have put them back where they belong! Swimming goggles mysteriously vanish, and again it's, "Mum, where are my goggles?" They're not mine, how can I be blamed for losing something that isn't even mine?

Then there was the time when Jacob came home and the usual after school conversation ensued: unpack your bag, and repack for tomorrow. "Do you have your jumper and hat?" Jacob proudly replies, "Yes Mum!" nearly with a sense of “told you! and take that Mum.” I say, "Ok, let me see ," and as I look at the hat, I see the tag and respond, "Of course, Jacob, it is your hat. Clearly, I just forgot how to spell your name… Natalie!" Likely Natalie’s mum is having a similar conversation with her newly named Jacob!

When they lost their goggles at the pool that was one thing, but when they lost their flippers, I was surprised, I mean that is not a small item! When I asked during a frantic morning exit "where are your flippers and goggles" they confidently said, "We left them at the pool," as though knowing exactly where they abandoned their items somehow excused the fact they left them behind! I thought no way, honestly they're too big to lose. I was wrong! We went to the swim lesson the following week and sure enough, there were their goggles and flippers waiting patiently for their forgetful owners. My two boys looked at me triumphantly with a face and body language of "I told you so," and I realised I couldn't win. No son, knowing where you left your belongings behind doesn't make it okay to leave them behind!

When I run the numbers, it gets scary. Each kid attends school roughly 200 days a year. One has clocked up 800 days, the other 1200. They say it takes three months to create a habit. My kids must have used those first three months of Kindergarten to perform the art of losing their belongings, and it has been an unbreakable habit every since. I wish that habit rule applied to other things, then shoes would get put away, not dumped where they were taken off, towels returned to the towel rack, plates put in the dishwasher - you know simple habits to grow and learn.

When does it stop? When do they start wanting to remember their stuff? I hear from other parents that it really doesn't stop, but it is curbed slightly when they have to buy their own stuff. That sense of ownership and accountability is as lost as the ice cream and fondue-making machine I got as a birthday present when I was 20 (I must admit (but not to them) I still don't know where those are!).

If only losing stuff was a legitimate competition, we’d at least have something shiny to show for our efforts, to look at when times are tough rather than just another frantic morning search party. I would look across as the Lost Belongings winning trophy(with a level of insanity) we are winners at something.