Mission Accomplished: Farrar Gets His Formula

My back is sore – but it was worth it.

This afternoon, I delivered four boxes to Police Chief Bret Farrar at the Lakewood Police Department headquarters. Big boxes. Heavy boxes.

In a little less than two months, I collected 53 cans of both powdered and ready-to-pour formula and another 28 single-servings for newborns.

The final cost: $6.84.

As I said before, I have quite a group of friends. When I announced my intentions to collect formula for the Emergency Food Bank, these moms rallied. My mailbox was flooded with checks and coupons and samples from Lake Stevens down to Olympia and every city in between. I went to dinner with a group of friends and left with a stack of Enfamil checks. I attended a third birthday party last weekend and came home with two cans of Similac.

None of them even lives in Lakewood – the nearest donation came from Tacoma – but they simply couldn’t imagine not being able to feed their children. They wanted to help. And I couldn’t have done this without them or the very gracious sales clerks at the Lakewood Target – all of whom I now believe know how to process a formula check – and probably will run and hide next time they see me coming.

After all, 53 containers of formula do not come cheap. It takes real bargain-hunting prowess – and time commitment – to take on such a task.

And it was clearly appreciated.

“The need out there in general for food, but baby formula in particular, is extremely strong,” Farrar said. “There are a lot of people who have been affected financially by loss of jobs and economic downturn, and it has been particularly hard on young families.

“And formula, as you know, is very, very expensive.”

So great is the need that Farrar immediately loaded what he called my “awesome” donation into his car to take to the Emergency Food Network.

It seemed appropriate, given that Farrar is the one who got me into the formula-collection business to begin with.

When he first told me about the need for baby food and formula back in December, I said that I would drop off some Earth’s Best purees left from my son’s jar-food days at the station for the Fallen Officers Food Drive. But once I got home, I got to thinking about the cold, hard reality that there are babies out there – right here in our city – with nothing to eat. It’s not that I wasn’t already aware of it – it just affected me more this time.

If I can spend hours deliberating argyle vests for my son’s Christmas outfit, I figured, I surely could do something for the greater good.

That’s the thing about motherhood – it teaches you humility. And I don’t mean the kind that comes with being vomited on in the middle of the frozen-foods aisle or realizing that you should have spent a lot more of your early 20s sleeping – when you still had the option.

When you become a mother, you develop a tunnel vision of sorts. Your focus shifts to your child, your child’s needs, your child’s future, etc., and rightfully so. And it’s easy to, well, forget that other children out there may not have it as good. But when that realization sets in, it’s hard to swallow. I’m not going to lie – I got choked up on the way home from Tillicum community’s Christmas celebration because there were babies there with no shoes or socks on, no blankets covering them – and it was about 20 degrees outside.

That night, as I drove home to my son and his drawer full of socks in a plethora of patterns and colors, I decided that I wanted to do something. But it wasn’t until I spoke with Farrar that my mission took shape.

I made a plan to collect 50 containers and timed it so that the drop-0ff would coincide with when donations typically decline.

“After the holidays, they do taper off,” Farrar said. “Mostly because people are not out there asking for donations; there are no big food drives going on or things like that.”

Not that a lack of organized events have stopped the people of Lakewood, though. The big green bins placed outside the police station for the Fallen Officers Food Drive were supposed to stay out there for one week at the end of November. They ended up being brought in two weeks ago. And Farrar said that people are more than welcome to continue to donate nonperishable food.

I asked him if there was anything he would like me to collect 800 of, and he laughed before saying that peanut butter and formula continue to be the most expensive – and needed – items.

“They are in high demand, and really can go a long way,” he said.

Granted, 53 bottles of formula is hardly what moves mountains, but there’s no denying that it’s a step in that direction – I’d say it’s at least a metaphorical base camp. It’s many, many bottles worth of nourishment for babies that may otherwise go hungry. It’s giving back to my hometown – and setting an example for my son. Because at 20 months, he may not have any interest in the formula – other than helping carry out the bottles so I could organize them on my dining-room table – but I don’t plan to end this here.

There are more checks on the way. More coupons to clip. And more babies to feed.

And that’s worth a little backache.