As we were finishing up our lunch, I noticed the tell-tale signs of Isaiah needing some attention. I took him to the bathroom, where, of course, there was no changing table. "All right," I thought to myself, "time for plan B." I attempted to change him in the stroller inside the tiny, tiny bathroom stall, probably smaller than most of the closets that you have, unless of course you're in Russia where they don't have closets.
Implementing Plan B turned out to be impossible. The mess was just too big. There was no way to clean him and keep the stroller clean and maneuver at the same time. "Ok, Plan C." I sighed. We exited the stall where I couldn't really move anyway. Taking a deep breath I braced myself for the looks and gasps of unbelief to which I have become so accustomed. I spread the disposable changing pad on the floor and made a temporary pillow from his how-in-the-world-did-these-manage-to-stay-clean pants. Then I did the unthinkable, I laid my naked child down on the floor in the bathroom. As I struggled to clean him as fast as possible and get ready to cath him, I thought about my poor friend D waiting for us outside. I had no way to tell her what was taking so long. Thankfully she is very patient with us!
After wiping and wiping and wiping and getting cramps in my legs, I confess that I was thinking about how much I hate Russia. (this doesn't come up often, usually only when I'm in situations like this that I know would not happen that often in other more convenient countries) I just knew that every woman coming into that bathroom was thinking terrible things about me, but I had no other options. Then I heard it,
"Devochka, mozhno ya pomoch?" (which being translated roughly means, Young lady, can I help you?)
In this type of situation I have never heard these words before in this country. Yes, people help me all the time to carry Isaiah's stroller up and down stairs, but I've never had an offer of help in this situation, just plenty of really strange and condemning looks. My heart softened instantly, and I replied in kind.
Ok, so I don't really hate Russia, but I do wish that they had changing tables in restaurant bathrooms or any public bathroom for that matter!
I am grateful for that young woman, though she probably has no idea how much that moment meant to me.
3 comments:
It's amazing how much good a sympathetic word can do.
I've changed my kids on the bathroom floor before. I get weird looks but I'm never going to see these people again. You could always make gagging noises for effect. ;)
i'm loving learning about your insides in this new blog!! keep em coming! and so thankful for that random russian with compassion.
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