Yesterday, I went to the psychiatrist for a routine check-up. As I was leaving, I realized Audrey had a dirty diaper. I went to the front desk and said to the nurse, "Do y'all have somewhere I can change my baby, since you don't have a diaper-changing station in the bathroom?"
The nurse, who's always very nice to me, said to let her think about it for a minute. I sat in a chair and waited. When Audrey was much younger, Matt and I brought her to this same place, and they gave us an empty room to change her. So, I figured there would be no problem.
Wrong. The nice nurse must have made someone else come out and tell me that they didn't have anywhere for me to change her. Are you kidding me? There's nowhere in this two-story building, no little corner where I can change my daughter's diaper? I mean, I've paid enough money to this place over the years that I could have a wing named after me. I was so. ticked. off. In fact, I wanted to follow that woman back to her office, put Audrey down on her desk, change her diaper, and then wipe it all over her computer. Aaaaarrrrggghhhhh.
I never noticed this problem until I had a baby, but there are so many places that don't have anywhere for a baby to be changed. If you have a bathroom for adults, then you should have a changing station! I'm not asking for anything fancy, just a level area that's big enough.
We were recently at a large furniture store with some of my family, and the place had a very nice bathroom. But guess what? That's right. No changing table. So I asked one of the employees about it, and he said, "We don't have anywhere to change her." Then my mom said, "How about right here?", referring to one of the reclining lawn chairs that was nearby. He looked totally disgusted. Then I got really angry and said, "There no baby-changing station in your bathroom."
The guy actually suggested that I change her on the counter in the bathroom. I said, "Are you kidding me?" There was maybe two inches between the sinks on that counter. I guess he could tell by the look on my face that I was going to change her right then, right there, whether he liked it or not, so he relented.
But it's not right. I think I need to write my senator or something. Because next time, I WILL change her on that woman's desk at my psychiatrist's office. And I hope she has a big poop that day, too.