The Bright Side Is… I Look 8?

Last night was rough. Not  a lot of sleeping going on for any of us (except the newborn… I’m not even going to tell you all how well she sleeps for fear of death threats and bombs sent to my doorstep). So Starbucks was a necessity while we were out this morning. Before braving the coffee run with a toddler and a newborn in tow, I figured I’d go ahead and feed and change Leyna in the comfort of the warm Jeep. After all, it’s not like I could rely on this particular Starbucks have a changing table for me.

I hoped in the back on the passenger side in the only open seat next to the two carseats. After I finished feeding her and changing her on my lap (gah! how crazy that she is still tiny enough to do that?), I went to open the door only to discover I was LOCKED IN. Oh, the beauty of child safety locks.

No, I couldn’t roll down the windows, the windows were locked, too.

No, I couldn’t climb into the front seat. I tried. My ass got stuck halfway over Leyna’s infant seat and I nearly decapitated her with my knee.

I was stuck. But just when I was thinking I’d have to set off the alarm to catch somebody’s attention, I saw a man and woman leave and head to the truck parked next to me.

I began banging furiously on the window. “HEY!! HEY! I’m stuck!”

The man definitely saw me. He made eye contact, then hurriedly rushed to the other side of his truck. Jerk.

So then I caught the woman’s attention. “HEY! I – NEED – HELP!” I mouthed.

She, too, acted like she didn’t see me. What the hell, people?

The guy came back around to the driver’s side and I gave it all I had. “I’M STUUUUUUCK. HELLLLLPPP!!”

(Please also imagine many flailing hang gestures describing my sticky predicament.)

He very cautiously approached the car. “PLEASE- OPEN- THE- DOOR. CHILD- LOCKS.”

With much hesitation and a very suspicious look on his face, he slowly reached down and openened the door.

“Oh, thank you! I’m so sorry. Child saftety locks. I locked myself in here. I know I TERRIFIED you,” I said at rapid-fire.

“No, you didn’t terrify me. I thought you were an 8 year old girl left in the car. I was going to go inside and see if I could find your mommy,” he replied matter of factly.

“Ha. No. That would be ME. I’m the mommy… the mommy who locked herself in her car. So, thanks again.” And then I went in and got my coffee… the coffee I CLEARLY needed much earlier in the day.

Kendall is 2 2/3 and Leyna is 1 month old… and I look 8, so Yay!?

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Yay! Errr…kinda. (Starbucks progress report)

Got an email last week from Dottie, the District Manager I’ve been dealing with to get the changing tables installed in my local Starbucks. She informed me that three locations near me should have them installed by the end of the week! So we took a little family trip up the road tonight to see the goodies in person. We all three marched in, camera in hand, back to the bathrooms.  To say there were eyebrows being raised is an understatement.  

I shouted in glee as I saw the little Koala Care sign, newly smooshed onto the wall, just a tad crooked, next to the bathroom doors.  However, my happy face quickly turned into a “Ugh, come ON. Are you kidding me?!” face when I discovered that there was only a changing table in the women’s restroom, and I confirmed with the barista that they had no intention of installing one in the men’s. Arrrghhhgghhh!!  Daddies do diapers, too!

Being the optimist I am, I decided to be happy, for the moment, for the one changing table, telling myself a guy could always commandeer the women’s room in the name of poopy diapers if need be.  I wiped my WTF face off, replaced it with the gleeful face, and Kendall and I struck a pose.  I’m fairly certain we were the very first ones to place a butt upon that changing table, but I’m positive we won’t be the last…. and that makes me happy.

I’m hoping to check out the rest of the locations next week, and will definitely be firing off some emails about why they can’t provide them in the men’s rooms, as well.  So… you know I’m going to ask. Have YOU contacted your local Starbucks District Manager to get changing tables installed in your local coffee house?

Kendall is 13 and a half months old and might have a crazy mom, but this crazy mom gets shit done.

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Starbucks + Changing Tables = a Revolution, yo!

In an effort to not bury the lead, let me just start by saying that two changing tables are on order and will be installed in my local Starbucks in approximately two weeks! How, you may ask, did I manage to move such mountains?  Let’s begin..

I’m a take charge kind of girl, in case you couldn’t tell.  If I don’t like something, I complain loudly and do what I can to change it.  Granted, since having a baby, I’m experiencing a bit more lag time, but now that our life is setting into some semblance of order, I’m on a mission to check things off of my to do list that I’ve kept running for the last year.  And, at the top?  Figure out just why the HELL Starbucks doesn’t provide changing tables in all their restrooms.  

Listen, if you are reading this and you don’t have a child in diapers, I don’t really expect you to understand the severity of this situation (and please, let’s not turn this into a childfree/parenting debate).  If you do understand, if you can put yourself in an exasperated new parent’s shoes, a parent who has relied on coffee to get them through many a late night project and now just wants to escape to Starbucks for a small window of time while their infant is sleeping, a parent who will need to change said infant before getting back in the 105 degree car, then thank you for your compassion and understanding.  

What I am saying is, yes, there may be bigger fish to fry in the blogosphere.  Yes, I can blog to end hunger or stop prostitution, but, seriously, this is IMPORTANT stuff to lots of parents.  I promise.  I’ve asked.  I’ve heard.  I’ve read the PAGES of comments on the MyStarbucksIdea.com website asking for simple changing tables to be the standard in all Starbucks locations.  For the record, this MyStarbucksIdea.com page is L-A-M-E, and I laugh at the Starbucks customer service phone rep who urged me to log my suggestion there.  I further laugh at one of the emails returned to me from Starbucks Customer Relations also urging me to do the same.  Uhmmm… hello.  It’s clearly been done several times.  I have better interwebz thingies to waste my time on, like Twitter.

Speaking of Twitter, that’s actually where I finally started to get somewhere with this whole situation.  I followed @Starbucks and (with the help of @JetWithAnya) asked them to put me in touch with the people who could hear me out.  After an email back from Starbucks Coroporate Communications that *didn’t* tell me to waste my time by entering it on the L-A-M-E webpage, I learned that I needed to contact my local District Manager. So the next time I was at my local store I grabbed her business card and shot her an email when I got home.  I explained my frustrations (and made it clear that I would be blogging and Tweeting about all of this, one way or the other).  To her credit, she has been extremely responsive and friendly, and after only two phone calls, put in an order for changing tables for my local store.

So.. it may not be Starbucks coming out as a company, being proactive and just sending two to every location without, but, for now, it’s a start.  And, I’m assured by Starbucks Corporate Communications and the District Manager I’ve been working with that it should be just as “easy” (relatively speaking, of course) for all of you to request changing tables and have them installed, too. Are you with me? Will you help?! Will you join the revolution??  Great. I knew you would. Now, let’s recap what you need to do.

1. Make sure your local Starbucks is, in fact, without changing facilities (as I have seen 2 or 3 locations out of hundreds that do provide them, but do proceed if they are only in the women’s restroom).

2. Ask for the District Manager’s contact info. There should be a business card set out somewhere obvious.  Mine only included an email address, but she was very prompt in responding.

3. Contact them and *nicely* explain your request.  Direct them to this post if you must.  Assure them that Corporate Communications has stated that customers merely need to request the changing tables via the DM.  

4. Follow up if they don’t.  And really, that would be a damn shame if you are the one having to do the follow up.  If that’s the case, I urge you to come back and post your experience in the comments section.  On that same note, PLEASE come back and post any positive experiences, as well.  Let’s give these folks the credit they deserve for working with us.

5. Spread the word.  Tell your friends and family to contact their DM and do the same.  Hopefully if enough of us are emailing, calling and hounding, they will get the picture and just send them out to all locations.

Let’s see how this goes!  Keep me posted.

Kendall is approaching 13 months

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The Parent’s Complicated Relationship With Coffee

Coffee used to be a fun thing to go “do” on a break at work.  Going to have coffee implied relaxation, conversation, good times.  It was a reward for a good job done, or an incentive to get off my ass and finish a project as soon as I got back to the office.  Coffee didn’t used to be complicated, but having a baby complicates a lot of things, coffee being one of them.

It starts when you’re pregnant.   “Should I not drink this coffee?” you think to yourself.  You read the scary reports, get the snide side-eye looks when you stand in line for your daily jolt, you cut back.  Then you have the baby.  “Ahhh!! The fetus will no longer be affected by the sea of bold roast it could be swimming in.  I’m free!!” you think to yourself.  Then the pediatrician hands you a list of things you absolutely shouldn’t be eating or drinking while breastfeeding and caffeine is at the top.  “WTF?!” you scream in your head.  “How the HELL am I supposed to get through life with a sleepless newborn without caffeine?!  Why didn’t anyone alert me to this while I was pregnant?”  You are mad, you try to live without coffee.  Despite your valiant attempts  to find other means of keeping yourself awake, you realize you are a raving bitch AND your baby STILL has colic.  “Well, forget that,” you think.  “If you are still going to spend over half of your waking day screaming, I’m going to at least listen to it while enjoying a frothy latte.”

Once the baby is here, coffee is no longer the relaxing thing to go “do”.  A trip to the coffee shop means hauling in a diaper bag, infant seat, hooter hider or bottle, and don’t forget the actual baby.  You are now *that person*  the one that everyone curses the minute they walk through the door.  Because, honestly, did you ever want to listen to a crying baby when you were relaxing and enjoying a coffee between business meetings?  You go only when the baby is sleeping.  Timing is everything.  That is until the day the baby wakes with poop oozing out all sides of his diaper.  You run to the fancy private bathrooms, only to realize that the place you pay hundreds of dollars a year to provide you a hot cup of brew can’t shell out the $250 it would take to put a changing table in their extra large, well decorated restrooms. Asshats.  Clearly your loyalty to them over the years means nothing once you become a parent, because parents don’t “do” coffee.

Yes, parents don’t “do” coffee, parents NEED THEIR FUCKING COFFEE.  You resort to the drive through, though there are many times you can’t get your order out over the noise of the screaming baby in the back seat.  You grow impatient  “Does the FLIPPING barista NOT realize that the noise they are hearing over the loudspeaker is CLEARLY my child having a meltdown and NO I would NOT like to sample the farking OATMEAL today,” you say under your breath, half hoping they heard you.  Due to a combination of factors, including lack of time, lack of disposable income, lack of patience, and a small personal protest against the place that betrays you with no changing tables, you start making coffee at home.

Coffee at home is even more complicated.  Grinding beans and pouring water requires more focus than one would imagine.  Some days you need coffee just to make the coffee.  Some days you need coffee to remember that you made coffee.  Your husband sets up the autobrew for you, but you nearly piss yourself when you wake one morning to what sounds like the next Texas Chainsaw Massacre in your kitchen.  That effing bean grinder is loud, and so help me God, if that wakes the baby….

Then there is the eternal internal debate.  “Do I drink the coffee now, at this early morning hour?  If I do, surely that will ruin any chances I have of catching a nap when the baby goes to sleep in a couple hours.”
After much waffling, you pry your bleary eyes open for two hours of baby food and Jumperoo and Peek-a-boo until the kiddo is worn out.  He finally goes down for a nap.  You turn on the monitor, head back to bed, snuggle up under the warm covers, begin to drift off to sleep… and the SON OF A BITCH!  The baby is awake after only 20 minutes.  It’s going to be one of those days, and you haven’t even had any coffee  yet.

Kendall is 8 months 1 week and 4 days old

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