Michael says I've gotten pretty feminist since becoming a mother. I'm not sure if I've become 'more' of a feminist, but maybe I've become more aware of how stupid our society is.
So today, I bring you my half-hearted I'm-really-too-busy-to complete-a-real-research study on the lack of diaper changing tables in MALE RESTROOMS.
Dear World, just because I have a vagina and breasts doesn't mean that I am the one that must lug my 24 pounder into the Women's Restroom, followed by the horrors of changing the baby in the bathroom. For those of you who have yet to experience it, let me walk you through it:
Imagine yourself at a restaurant.
You're at the table, waiting to be served, and your little ball of cuteness makes the red face that can only read "I'm workin' on a big one, folks!". You and your partner look at one another, and a showdown happens. In the middle of the restaurant, everything stops...a tumbleweed crosses the table along with the whistling song that always goes with the western showdowns.
After a short bickering session, the male in the relationship often wins the "Who's going to take the pooper" to the changing table - because he has a wiener. Awesome. So you lug your kid on one hip, your diaper bag on the other, and your purse too, if you have one, because you know you can't always count on Mr. Wonderful to be cognisant enough to keep his eye on it. ::facepalm::
Lug kid to bathroom. Wait in line for 2 other families. Put the liner down. Buckle her in. Make cute faces while cringing and screaming inside because of the dried poop that you see on the cover of the table (thankfully protected by the liner). Kiddo tried to roll off, but is held on by buckle. Buckle pisses her off, so she throws a fit. Poop gets on her foot, which gets on my shirt. Diaper goes on, clothes go on, we go back to the table, baby is happy, Daddy is happy, and Mamma gets crapped all over. YAY!
Yes, an extreme story - but changing your kid in a public restroom is a PAIN, and I just wish that we could share the responsibility with our male counterparts. I started to count how many stores had male vs. female changing stations, but then got tired of that game and just decided to write about it without any hard data. It's not like it's a research paper.
Additionally, if an establishment welcomes families, why would you not have a diaper changing station in your bathroom? REALLY? That was a huge pain in the butt, thank you, Sushi Place. You totally made my Friday night last week.
So, Mammas, before you automatically walk into the bathroom with your child to change him/her, 1 - look for a family bathroom (YAY!) and 2 - hand that kid over to the daddy, because he should have to check for the changing table possibilities too.
I did this to Michael the other day at Costco - not only did she have a very dirty diaper, the bathroom was also disgusting (or so I heard). I got lots of thank you's that day for taking care of her in public.
Crawling monster! She ended up underneath our Queen bed - don't ask me how. Once I knew she was ok, I laughed, and so did she. It was an adventure. She also found the dog's water bowl - gross. She's looking more and more like me every day, which is really scary for me!