Caught short

No baby change facilities? Having experienced this many times I often assume the worst and just get on with it; an appropriate solution can usually be found. But what do you do in an ‘upmarket’ establishment without a baby change or viable alternative? This happened to me the other week and I am still unsure whether it left me annoyed or amused. These are a few things I have learnt about being caught short.

We have a sandwich-fold buggy. We lived in central London when Miss arrived so we needed a city buggy; it also had to travel efficiently, fold easily, survive a plane cargo hold etc. And as it happens, buggies that can recline flat are quite handy for a quick, semi-sheltered, and even a 'sleeping baby' baby change. Our buggy choice has averted countless caught short situations.

Some outings do not require a buggy. Driving to a restaurant with a 'high chair' aged Miss does not require a buggy, and so it was left at home when we drove to a restaurant that we knew well pre-parenthood. I had assumed they had a baby change. Wrong. In asking staff for assistance finding a 'small space’ they offered two round-seated dining chairs pushed together. So, I sat on half of one chair and held the other tightly with my feet, Miss precariously straddled both chairs and a successful nappy change was negotiated.

Other outings do require a buggy, but it is not always appropriate to use it as a baby change. After a long walk we stopped for lunch at a lovely riverside restaurant; it was very quiet, very much open plan and very much sans baby change. Without staff assistance my only option was a rather undignified nappy change in the middle of the restaurant. Our lovely waiter offered an alternative solution, upending his waiters tray to fill the ladies bathroom hand basin void I administered a delicately balanced nappy change.

One of my favourite ‘adult’ places to visit with Miss and Master is the ground floor café of the Tate Modern in SE1 (a blatant, unpaid plug). Tucked in the back corner is a spacious child friendly area with baby change and bathrooms in close proximity, although distant enough not to waft vile bathroom smells up my nose. The disadvantage of such fabulous facilities is their constant use. For me this is no bother; I turn the back of my buggy towards other diners and execute a private, discreet in-buggy nappy change.

Back to the other week. Sometimes, there are no amazing solutions. Sometimes, you have to weigh-up the risks, a nappy leak versus a social faux pas. Miss, Master, Papa and I were at a country club with friends and after a stroll around the grounds we stopped for lunch in a restaurant overlooking a lake to one side and the grounds to the other. The inevitable nappy change need arose so change kit in one hand, Miss holding the other, off we went to find the ladies bathroom baby change; but there were none. I looked for the disabled bathroom; there were none. I looked for other doors behind which a baby change space might be found; there were none. I looked for a staff member to ask for assistance; there were none (they were busy serving). Without a buggy, car or other private space I saw only one option, the floor. Our table was in the back corner so I strategically positioned my make-do baby change behind a couple of coat covered chairs to my left with our table in front of me (and everyone but me sat at it), to my right and behind me were a 1st floor window and a wall. I changed Miss first, but while changing Master I noticed people at the neighbouring table shaking their heads and staring at me. A waiter they had summonsed stood there glancing at me and nodding in apparent agreement. There was a time when this reaction would have bothered, and probably flustered me. But these days I worry less about what others think and more about getting on with it. It was when we were packing up to leave (immediately after the nappy changes) that I noticed the empty neighbouring table. Apparently, these people were so bothered by my semi-public, make-do baby change that they up and left without ordering.

Was I amused at the time? Yes. I would rather laugh in an awkward or uncomfortable situation than let it upset me.

Was I annoyed at their reaction? Yes. They did not have food in front of them, and Miss and Master were shielded from view from all but those who choose to look closely and stare. But mostly, did they think anyone would actually choose a make-do public-floor-space baby change when a better alternative exists?

Today, the reaction of the would-be diners and the unabashed waiter annoys me. But more so, I find humour in the fact that their ignorant assumption (that a better alternative existed) caused them far greater bother than it caused me. After all, I had lunch followed by a laugh...

Do you have any clever caught short solutions?