Monthly Archives: July 2009

How Far, How Many and When, Oh When!!??

Life gives us many reasons to obsess. It’s almost as if it were somehow imbedded in our DNA. A mutation of sorts that causes us to over analyze, over think, and over stress about, well, everything. Think about the “big” decisions you’ve made over your lifetime. Did they cause you to agonize for days or stay up all night weighing pros and cons? Then again, we can often act this way over even the most minor of choices. As if picking which t.v. show we watch is really of eternal significance.

When I think back to the major decisions of my life, I find myself laughing at how odd I truly am. First of all, I am impulsive. If I need to buy something, you will not find me googling the options and then cross referencing them to see which one is truly the best fit. In some ways, being an “act first, think later” personality is freeing. The flip side is that after I make these quick decisions I am left to the post-act obsessing. I leap and then gasp when I see what’s really below.

I am grateful that the major life decisions I’ve made have been full of peace. For college, I picked one school and didn’t bother to apply to any others. In retrospect, probably not the smartest move, but thank God I got in and it worked out beautifully. When I decided to transfer schools mid way through to be closer to my awesome boyfriend, I leapt again. The result? 8 years of marriage under our belt and we are even happier now than we were then. These were big decisions at the time, and yet I made them in the same way that I would decide whether to order a large or small drink. Obviously not all of my choices have worked out as I’d hoped, but is it really possible to ever be completely content and not wonder about the “what ifs” of life?

The danger is to become trapped and frozen with fear when it comes to life’s decisions. Take marriage and starting a family. Wow. Lots of room for obsessing here, don’t you think? But, let’s be real- there will NEVER be a perfect time to get married and there will NEVER be a perfect time to have kids. Honestly, NEVER. You won’t ever be as settled as you want to be, have checked off your “before I get married” to do list, traveled the world, saved enough money, or had that perfect 2nd honeymoon. I know first hand that often the biggest surprises in life are the biggest blessings.

I had never imagined that my first pregnancy would begin with me and my husband tracking down a pregnancy test in the middle of Honduras. Wasn’t in my “plan.” And yet, there we were in the middle of a medical mission trip, five days late on my period, and staring at a very bright pink plus sign. Good thing I speak Spanish and could clearly understand that I was very much “with child.” Not only did this timing seem horrible because I found out miles away from home and now didn’t know if my lovely GI issues were from some bad frijoles or simply morning sickness, but my sweet husband had just completed his second year of medical school and the role of providing for our family was mine. How could I possibly earn enough money to pay our bills and childcare? And, what about the fact that I wanted to be a stay at home mom? Would that be the craziest choice ever? But, nine months later when we met our beautiful and perfect baby girl for the first time, it all made sense. The timing was perfect, despite the details that seemed hardly manageable. Did I manage to stay home? Yes. Did we have any income? No. Do we have tons of student loans? Yes. Did friends and family think our choices were crazy? Of course! Do I regret any of it? No. Why waste my time on post-decision obsession? Definitely not worth my time.

I hear much conversation about “how far apart should I space my kids,” “how many kids should I have,” and “when should I have said kids.” What I’ve realized is that as much as we are all searching for the magic equation or the consumer reports summary that will give us the clear answer, but it is never going to exist. And, that’s a good thing. Embrace the fact that you are an individual. There is no one like you. Never has been and never will be. You can never look at another individual and play dress up with her life. The clothes, though they may look spectacular on her, will always be ill fitting on you, no matter how hard you try to make them right. If you have one child and feel content, that is great. If you have five, rock on. If you don’t ever think you’ll desire children, own it. God didn’t create robots, he created unique individuals. Your path is yours and yours alone so please don’t waste your time trying to walk someone else’s.

So, I don’t know which choices you are grappling with today. I have no idea if you are a personality like mine that is of the post-obsessive variety or if you are a pre-obsessive bird. Regardless, be encouraged that your choices are your own. Nothing will ever be perfect and there is always more than one option. Would you have been happier if you’d opened door #3 rather than door #2? You will never know. Really. YOU WILL NEVER KNOW, and that is regardless of how many times you spend replaying it in your head. With mistakes and triumphs alike we cannot do anything but move forward. Give yourself the freedom to let it go and to embrace your choices with a “heck yah.” That’s what I’m gonna do now and I’m going to try really hard to not obsess about it later.

Things They Don’t (or can’t) Tell You

Lately I have been blessed to come into contact with a number of new moms. Not only does it afford me the pleasure of holding and loving a sweet newborn baby (without having to take said baby home for marathon night feedings and the like) but it also gives me a chance to love on these new moms as they navigate this new path of motherhood. A friend of mine said today, “I’d rather be the mother of a 4th child than have to be a first time mom again.” ‘Tis too true. The first time around is rough. It doesn’t matter whether or not you’ve been a nanny for ten years of never changed a diaper. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can prepare you for what it is like to be a parent.

When I was pregnant, I had grand visions of what it would be like to be a mom. Didn’t you? I think most expectant parents, adoptive as well, have preconceived ideas about what it will be like. Even our best intentioned friends who are already parents have a hard time cracking our blissful parental bubble. We might hear the words “your life is really going to change, so sleep now or go to the movies,” but not really understand their weight. We think we’re too excited to sleep and then want to kick ourselves three months later for not indulging in those pre baby naps. Or, if a friend has a baby a few months prior to our little one’s arrival and we see her struggling at a lunch date to feed/burp/eat/maintain sanity, we tell ourselves that with all of the amazing skills and know how that we will have we will of course never have to deal with such chaos with our own baby. So many myths, so many unprepared parents, and so many young moms and dads about to lose their minds.

And so I offer you this, especially for those readers who have not yet become parents, as a true and honest list of things that I wish I had known before having children. If you are too far up in the cloudy stratosphere of expectant bliss to get your sweet little head around this, rest assured that it will be waiting for you when the pains of labor or shrieks of a hungry baby at 2:30 a.m. yank you back down to planet earth. You know, the place where the reality of parenthood lives. Know that the point of this is not to make you think I harbor any bitterness about being a mom. Not at all. I LOVE being a momma. Love it, love it, love it. Love my babies and love my job. Period. This is just, as I mentioned before, information that I think is helpful to have before becoming a parent, because then if any of it happens you won’t be shocked, surprised, embarrassed, or a multitude of other possible emotions. I’m sure it will be incomplete, but it’s what I got right now.

1. Any fatigue or exhaustion you thought you had experienced is a distant memory to the utter and complete drain you feel over your entire being. You will be more tired than you ever thought possible because parenthood not only draws from your physical strength, but your emotional, mental and spiritual as well. Make sure that you find ways to refill your tank and refresh your spirit daily.

2. If you didn’t know it before, you will now know without a doubt that you cannot do it alone. People need people and you will realize that your family, friends, neighbors and even a sympathetic cashier at the grocery store are crucial to you on a daily basis. Embrace the love. 🙂

3. Laundry, oh goodness the laundry. Little people + Little clothes=shockingly large amounts of laundry.

4. Babies cry. Period. They just do. And often you have no idea why.

5. Baby poop comes in different shades and textures and believe it or not, 99.9% of the time it is normal

6. Disregard, or take with a HUGE grain of salt, advice from anyone with a child of their own who is 5 years or older regarding your newborn. Believe me, parents forget quickly (hence why people have more than one child) and their well meaning advice about a, b and c can be way off base.

7. You will feel more frustrated than ever before

8. Your life will never be the same. Never. You gain so much, but for many there is a level of grief that comes along with the transition and that is okay. Talk about the things you miss doing and dream about the days that you will do them again. Always remember that nothing is permanent and that you will sleep again, will go out with your friends and husband again, and will one day be responsible for your bathroom needs alone again.

9. Whether you decide to go back to work outside of the home or stay home with your baby full time you will feel judged. It’s lame and you’d think society would be past it, but unfortunately women on both sides feel the tug from the other. So, be confident in your choice and know that you are the only one who can decide what’s best for you and your family.

10. There will be times when you don’t like your kids.

11. Everyone thinks that their kid is the cutest and everyone is right.

12. Being confronted with your own selfishness is no picnic. You will be forced to put your own needs behind another person’s in a way that is unlike anything else. It will be painful, and you might often go hungry, but hang in there.

13. It is okay to breastfeed in public, regardless of the dirty looks you may receive.

14. The love you have for your child is indescribable and crucial in the hard times. Cling to it and thank God that He knew so well you would need it.

15. You now understand why your friends with kids couldn’t hang out with you as much anymore and wish desperately that you could rewind and babysit for them more often.

16. Having a baby is hard on a marriage. So dig in, and even when there isn’t any time to make, MAKE TIME for each other.

17. Little people have lots of stuff

18. Traveling with a newly mobile infant is REALLY unpleasant

19. Motherhood will stretch you, bend you, twist you up, chew you up and spit you out. It isn’t glamorous and don’t expect to hear a thank you while you clean up the third round of vomit in an hour. In the meantime, go thank your own mom.

20. Speaking of our moms, nothing will make you love or appreciate your mom more than becoming a mom yourself.

21. Post-partum body issues…(in the interest of not completely freaking out the boys, why don’t we just leave it at that)

22. Engorged breasts are unhappy breasts. If the baby won’t nurse, run to the nearest store and buy yourself a pump.

23. Wear breast pads to the special event you’re wearing the cute dress to, even if you think you don’t need them.

24. Don’t be the mom who brags. Really, save it for the grandparents. And, I promise, if your child crawls early it is no guarantee of sainthood or genius status.

25. Your kid is going to embarrass you.

26. It is not okay to forego boundaries and discipline in your parenting. Not only do you suffer, but your children suffer more.

27. Sleep is just as important for your child as eating. If you wouldn’t allow your child to skip a meal, don’t allow him to skip a nap.

28. Taking your child to the doctor because you think he may have swine flu or some other random virus you read about on the internet is okay as long as it isn’t on a monthly basis.

29. Your child is not your neighbor’s child. Don’t force her to be or blame yourself if she’s not.

30. Children are unique individuals. They come with lots of prewiring. It is your job to direct, instruct, teach and shape their character while preserving and celebrating their individuality.

31. Nap time is happy time

32. You are going to make LOTS of mistakes.

33. If your child comes into contact with her feces at some point, she will survive.

34. Poop is poop and vomit is vomit. If your own child’s makes you gag, totally normal. No it is NOT different with your own kid.

35. Your child may be nothing at all like you.

36. Terrible Two’s are nothing compared with the Totally Terrible Three’s

37. Don’t buy the bouncy chair, swing, exersaucer, etc. Choose one to own and then borrow the rest. It is never hard to find another mom eager to cast off a baby item.

38. Dresses are completely worthless for babies before they walk and particularly ridiculous while they are learning to crawl or walk. Just stick with the pants/shorts/diaper and blow off all of the “oh HE’S so cute,” comments.

39. Your kids really and truly don’t care if you smell, have on your pj’s all day, or forgot to brush your teeth

40. All your children will ever need from you, is you

41. You will parent differently than your best friend and it may cause tension at times.

42. Your kids might not play well with your best friend’s kids and that is okay. Don’t expect them to be bff just because their moms are.

43. Older men will always think your baby is a boy, regardless of apparel choice, so just go with it and save yourself the aggravation.

44. People with boys think boys are best and people with girls think girls are best. Those with a mix are left in the middle. Point is, everyone is right. Once you meet your child, gender is a non issue. You simply want to love that little person.

45. All moms struggle just like you. They might not have the same issues, but they do not have it as put together as their hair and makeup suggest.

46. Making decisions that make your child unhappy is part of the job. You cannot be a “child pleaser” and a good parent.

47. It is okay to go through the drive thru.

48. Extra t.v. to save your sanity will not emotionally scar your children.

49. Enjoy the snuggle time in the early days. Seriously. It is gone too soon.

50. Keep your eyes on the present and try not to get caught up in the “next phase.” When they sit, don’t think about when they’ll crawl and so on. Savor it all.

There is the start. So much more I could write, but it’s midnight and I think I’ll sleep. I am blessed beyond words to be the mother of our beautiful girls. What a privilege and honor to be their mommy. I think I’ll go look at their sleeping cuteness one more time…

Smokin’ Hot Love AND Marriage

Wanna know what I think about people who use terms like “the old ball and chain” or “tied down” to describe married life? Idiots. Many people find the idea of committing to another human being for life crazy because they cannot begin to imagine that it could be anything positive. Maybe they had parents who fought all the time and hated each other as an example but stayed married “for the kids,” or maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with a poor example of married life at all and simply comes down to the blatant fact that people are selfish. The thought of giving up even one small iota of what I want could never, ever be a good thing, right? The saddest part is that because of the many negative connotations that seem to go along with marriage these days, many, many people are missing out. They are dating and living with someone for decades without making a commitment, they’re married but allowing their marriage to completely suck and doing nothing to make it better, or they are simply not even bothering to have any relationships of substance because they just want to “have fun.” I honestly feel that the biggest consequence of this societal cheapening of marriage is that so many people have begun to settle. And settling is never good.

Last week, we celebrated 8 years of marriage, 12 years as a couple. We met at 16, started dating at 18 and got married at 22. I understand how for many people these days that sounds freakishly young, but for us it was right. Now, I certainly don’t think that getting married at 22 is right for everyone. Each person is different, each couple’s story is different. Isn’t that what makes it fun? All of this to say that I kissed this man for the first time 12 years ago and I’ve never wanted to stop. I still think he’s funny, totally hot, and there is no other who even comes close to knowing me as well as he does. When we said our vows 8 years ago, we didn’t commit to just kind of “trying” to make it work, or coasting through the years. We didn’t leave an “out” in case things didn’t work out. Instead, we promised to work hard, everyday, even on the days we didn’t feel like it and not to settle for anything other than a I want to rip your clothes off/giggling on the couch to inside jokes/crying with each other when things are hard/enjoying our children grow and change/and making sure to always kiss each other goodnight.

We are not perfect, but we are committed. Nothing about our marriage is boring and nothing about it reminds me of chains, balls, or rope. If you are married and feel like your marriage is weighing on you, do something about it. If you aren’t married and have some really lame stereotypical ideas about marriage, go talk to people who think otherwise, who have marriages that don’t make you want to take a permanent vow of celibacy. And if you’ve been with him/her for years and say stupid things like “we just like how things are,” or “we just don’t want to ruin how great things are,” wake up, drop those ridiculous excuses, and um, fish or cut bait!

I want to give marriage the respect it deserves. It isn’t just some legality and it isn’t for all the tax breaks. I love my husband, and I love that we’re married. 8 years is just the beginning, babe. Glad we’re in it for the long haul.

It’s Been a Long Time

Wow. First off, I should have let you all know that I would be on vacation and that the blog would not be getting much attention. So sorry. But, I am back now and slowly getting into the swing of things here on the home front. My sweet hubby still has two more days off so we are trying maximize the time.

Before I tell you about my vaca, let me first start by clarifying what those of us with young children who have attempted this before know too well- vacation, true vacation, does not really exist for those with little kids. We might better call these “bold excursions into the unknown,” or “breaks from the norm” or “same stuff, different place,” or even “why did I think that was a good idea.” This past April we experienced the “same stuff, different place” variety when we took the girls to a little cabin about two hours away. It was definitely worth it and I think everyone had a good time, but it was far from relaxing or a “break.” Our “vacation” last week was much better, because this time we were smart enough to call for reinforcements in the form of grandparents and aunts and uncles. I think this is the closest that we can currently get to the real deal, because with more hands around to wrangle and entertain the wee ones, there are moments for a date night, kayak ride for two and moments to catch up with a good book. Thank God for great in-laws.

So, our vacation was pretty darn good. And, the blogging will resume. Ah, a wee one calls…

What I am is, well, what I am

My husband’s work schedule does not always do wonders for my waistline and tonight that got me to thinking. Rather than going to the places of “man, I need to drop 10 pounds,” or “maybe I should look into wearing make-up on a regular basis,” or “why did I wear that out of the house this morning,” I decided that it’s time I take some serious ownership of what it is that I am. And, to call out what I’m not in a way that makes it not only okay, but simply another part of me. At the end of the day I’m stuck with me and rather than spending my time lamenting what I think, or what I think others might think, I “should” be, I’m gonna embrace the whole enchilada. So, brace yourselves for some brutal honesty.

I am 30 years old (I often wonder how that happened)

I have cellulite

I have had to have two c-sections (one for a breech baby which was scheduled and another for a sunny-side up baby that didn’t want to budge even after full dilation and 3 hours of REALLY hard pushing in 7 positions) and even though it’s been 16 months I still replay my labor at least two nights a week in my head before I fall asleep wondering what I did wrong

I don’t wear make-up everyday and doubt that I apply it correctly when I do

I don’t pluck or wax my eyebrows regularly and honestly could care less

When I sit down, my stomach oozes over my waistband (standing is a beautiful thing)

I don’t like to workout at the gym

I don’t highlight or dye my hair and I get mine cut at Great Clips for $13 maybe twice a year

Pregnancy has left me with lots of varicose veins and as much as I’d love to just wear pants for the rest of my life, I’m okay with answering questions about “what happened”

I still think my husband is really hot

I eat bread and have no intention of stopping

My wardrobe has not changed much in the last couple of years and while I don’t have much fashion sense, I still love me some America’s Next Top Model

I like watching t.v.

I really, really, really like coffee.

I not only believe in Jesus, but want my life to reflect that. And frankly, it’s really hard at times.

My house has clutter, pretty much all the time

I like food more than I want to be skinny

I’m not a pet person (sorry) but I will always fake it for people I love 🙂

I’m opinionated and brutally honest

I love my family

And I am learning each and everyday that I’m not half bad. 🙂

Well, that’s just a start. What about you? Claim it and rock it.

Pricked Fingers

This morning I took MolĂ© to the doctor for a month late 15 month check up. I didn’t feel too guilty though because BQ never even had a 15 month appointment since our sweet pediatrician in those days was trying to save us a couple of bucks since we had med student insurance (yet another topic for another post). I knew she would have shots and a finger prick to check for lead and anemia, but figured with MolĂ© being the easy going little munchkin that she is it wouldn’t be a problem. Yah, I was wrong about that.

Luckily, my good friend who is a librarian is done for the year and her 3 year old’s school was out today and she graciously offered to watch BQ so I could take MolĂ© to the doctor. (THANK YOU AGAIN!!). I was looking forward to being able to actually focus on MolĂ© and have some one-on-one time. Car ride, good, waiting room entrance, good, mingling with Verna our faithful receptionist, good. When our fabulous doctor, who is just on her second day back from maternity leave mind you, greeted us things were still good. They went downhill the minute she closed the door to the exam room. After a bit of MolĂ© glaring at our sweet pediatrician and being a bit uncooperative, we tried to open the door to see if that would help. Eh, sort of. But, she seemed to mellow out, especially once her shoes and pants were removed. The end was in sight and we only had the two shots and blood draw left. Mr. Bear was in my backpack, along with a forbidden juice box that I was ready to shamelessly bribe her with. I figured I was set. Yah, I was wrong about that too.

I held her on my lap for the two shots, which created a lot of screaming. But, I was able to pull Mr. Bear from my backpack and bust out some “itsy bitsy spider” and things looked up. We took a stroll down the hallway to the “room” where the blood draw would take place. I had a brief flashback of being there with BQ at her 2 year appointment. It went a little something like this…Me hugely swollen and pregnant one week away from my due date with MolĂ©, an over-eager PA who was shadowing our doctor that day and did not get that two year olds like to do things independently and that if they do not smile at your advance RETREAT WOMAN RETREAT, and a pricked finger that would not bleed and had to be squeezed, squeezed and squeezed some more. This all then led to a MASSIVE tantrum in the middle of the hall for 15 minutes. Parents strolled by with their cuddly newborns, glaring. I of course knew what they did not- their day would too come. That visit ended up with me yelling and then both of us crying on the way home. Fond memory, I think not.

After mentally returning to the present time, I prepped to make this as easy and quick as possible. We were delayed a bit, and MolĂ© started to get really antsy. I thought I’d bust out the juice box and let her start sipping so that it would be there during and after. Unfortunately it took much longer and by the time Verna appeared the box was empty. She requested MolĂ©’s left ring finger so we extended it and the horror began. I soon realized that I was a doofus and should have suggested the right hand, since MolĂ© likes to suck her left thumb. I learned this lesson the hard way. I had to sit there for about 5 minutes real time, though it felt like 5 years in my head, while Verna pinned down her arm and squeezed droplets of blood from that tiny finger to fill the vial. It was dreadful. It was at times unbearable. After she was finally done, she gave me some gauze to stop the bleeding. Problem was there was no way I could hold it still enough to apply pressure with her arm flapping about. Blood was flying everywhere. Finally, we attempted to lasso it all in with a bandaid and tried to leave. As we entered the parking lot I noticed that her little fist was full of blood. Back in we went. This of course took the screaming back up a notch and made her squirm fiercely to try and get out of my arms. We washed the hand, applied more pressure and bandaged it up again. This time I asked for some spare bandaids just in case. I thought she would calm down outside, but no. Then I thought she’d calm down soon after I started driving, but no. In all, she screamed for a half hour straight. The longest she has ever cried during her 16 months and 10 days on plant earth. Never have I heard her scream so much and it killed me. When the screaming did stop, I stole a glance in the rear view mirror only to find that she had literally passed out. Sweet girl.

So, for all of you that get an old fashioned blood draw done on your kiddos rather than a finger stick, be grateful. Never again will we do it this way. So inefficient, so traumatic, and so messy. Our blood stained clothes don’t even tell half the story. I think I have a date with a bottle of “stain remover spray” (I would say a brand but they seem to stalk my blog when I do).

And by “accessible” you mean what?

I will never forget that bathroom break. We were living in Minnesota and I was taking some graduate classes in education. Having a bladder the size of a grape, I of course had to run out mid lecture to relieve myself. As I threw open the door, I almost crashed into a fellow student. I quickly apologized and began to go around her to the stall. I didn’t get far before realizing that she wasn’t that close to the door because she was using the sink, trying to go herself, or simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had been trying to leave and could not. I awkwardly asked her if I could help her with the door and was caught off guard by her response. (obviously these are not her exact words, but you get that). She too had needed to escape a lecture to use the facilities. Unfortunately though, an hour had elapsed since she had used the restroom, her lecture had ended and she had missed an important review for an upcoming exam. Why? Because the supposedly “wheelchair accessible” bathroom in our building became her prison. There was no way anyone, I don’t care if they could bench press a million pounds, could have opened that door from a seated position. It was ridiculous. And I could see that what I had initially perceived as her sadness and my need to show compassion wasn’t it at all. She wasn’t sad. That girl was pissed off. And shouldn’t she be? And you know what, I think she wanted me to be too. Shouldn’t I be? So we opened that door and stormed out together, ready to bring it, and angry that with all the dollars we were paying for our education they couldn’t manage to put in a door that could logically be opened by anyone. We wanted to give “the man” a piece of our minds. But did we? Or did I for that matter? Nope. I want back to lecture, got bored and completely spaced out for the remaining 30 minutes.

Today the girls and I ventured downtown to go to the aquarium. I had a stroller for MolĂ© and BQ on the “buggy board.” Much better for the bus and train. As I was lugging the children from bus to train and then more trains, up and down escalators, searching for the correct elevators to get me to such and such platform and trying to maneuver the stroller on and off the train and bus I was beyond frustrated. What a pain! How in the world would anyone think any of this is accessible to a mom with a stroller when it clearly is not!? I started to wonder if any of it would even be possible for someone in a wheelchair, traveling alone and needing to go the same route. The answer is a big fat NO WAY. We live in a very old city and its attempts as being accessible are pretty much laughable. In the past I would say this makes me a bit sad. But now, it really just makes me angry.

Wouldn’t it just be better on everyone if we called it like it is? Rather than a little blue sign with a white drawing of someone in a wheelchair, why don’t we add a big question mark. Basically, “Um, well, yah we sort of tweaked some stuff, but haven’t really checked it out, so yah know, good luck with that.” Sort of a choose your own adventure concept. I wonder how many others like that student I met in the bathroom have been fooled into believing that little blue sign only to be left behind. It’s ridiculous. The Hallmark store at the mall near my house that has all of its cards up a set of stairs after you enter, ridiculous. Our church that doesn’t have an elevator or any ramps other than the one up to the front door yet has classes and meetings upstairs and in the basement, ridiculous. My apartment with its stairs at every entrance, ridiculous. And the aquarium with its really cool top of the big tank viewing area that’s only accessible by stairs, ridiculous.

I don’t really have an answer and obviously I’ve never experienced this personally. It’s just on my heart tonight and I needed an avenue to express my frustration. How can we truly create access for all without it being an afterthought? Some sloppy inadequate job that looks like something a five year old threw together. It isn’t about checking boxes on a form so that you can proudly display that little blue sign, is it? I hope not. I don’t ever want to meet someone in the bathroom, or any other place for that matter, because of cut corners. I highly doubt it would have taken much time to have someone test out that door prior to completion of the restroom.

Maybe I’ll go back to be junior high days of removing public signs (true confessions. i really liked the “wash your hands before going back to work” ones found in bathrooms. they were usually up with double sided sticky tape and came off easily. i know, really random form of rebellion). This time I’m targeting you, little light blue sign and your so called “accessible” establishments. You’ve been warned- it’s either fix it or buy a lot of nails.