US Citizenship and a Siberian Diaper Change

On Thursday, July 30, Ari and I passed through Customs at Chicago's O'Hare Airport, where she became a US citizen!! My heart felt such happiness and pride on this momentous occasion. Of course, Ari was oblivious to such an important event, and while I was filled with such awe, Ari's diaper was filled with a celebratory treasure.

It was great to be back in the US, back home, where we could finally settle into a routine. We were both exhausted, but my sweet little girl tolerated Customs personnel barking at us and telling us to move here, there, and everywhere.

Still, we were happy. We got off a very difficult 14-hour ride from Hong Kong.

We were sitting in an aisle seat (thank goodness!), next to two doting women who, well, doted on her. Yet, 14 hours is 14 hours, and that's a long trip for anyone, let alone a toddler confined to her mother's arms and where leg space was so bad in the upgraded Economy Plus, that I looked like a basketball player in relation to my surroundings, with knees smushed against the seat (which explains the bruises). And I dreaded meal/snack times, as I couldn't quite open the tray fully because of the child on my lap.

I felt like I had to be a wizard of sorts, preventing the orange juice from splattering all over others, and bread from being flung into someone's lap, all the while making sure Ari was fed and praying that in a cabin with no room everywhere, even near the bathroom area, that she would not poop. So far, the kid is considerate and takes a dump when it's more convenient for me. She did so at the hotel the morning of the flight, and she didn't poop again until after she became a US citizen.

I was proud that she soiled her diaper on American soil.

But on the plane I still had to do a mid-air diaper change, so I quickly grabbed her and put a little blanket on the floor of the section near the bathrooms, a section that had, like, a whole five feet of space. I had to diaper her on the floor with onlookers nearby, so I did her business quickly and efficiently, all on the floor of that crowded section of that cramped-seating plane with cramps running down my back and legs.

When we got back to our seat, we saw the map of where the plane was flying in the world at that moment. (These maps were cast on the screens at intervals between really stupid American movies with Chinese subtitles.)

The map showed that we were over Siberia. Not many parents can boast that they diapered their little one(s) over Siberia, but I can. I felt joy and excitement about this, which indicates the cabin pressure might've been a bit much for me!

Overall, Ari made it through the flight like a champ. Of the 14 hours she was constrained onto my lap in a very cramped area, she only squirmed and cried about a half hour of that total. She was easily soothed and mostly clung to me, even after we bumpily hit American soil.

Her mom, on the other hand, was sore, exhausted, and bruised. But very happy to be back home.

Beth L. Gainer is a professional writer and has published numerous academic and magazine articles, as well as an essay on her breast cancer experience in the anthology Voices of Breast Cancer by LaChance Publishing. She writes about medical advocacy at www.bethlgainer.blogspot.com, and her cat Hemi blogs at www.catterchatter.blogspot.com. Beth teaches writing and literature at Robert Morris University in the Chicago area. She can be contacted at bethlgainer@gmail.com and gainercallingtheshots@gmail.com. She also blogs on the adventures of her cats, Hemi and Cosette, at http://www.catterchatter.blogspot.com./.