Somehow I got to be an adult without thinking much about the details of architecture. I very much appreciate well-designed buildings, and I even have some training in structural engineering. I picked my university dorm because of the beautiful building that housed it, with a central courtyard, sleeping porches, thick walls, and breezeways. Its spanish style spoke to my Old California roots and to my summers in New Mexico.

I have found that being a mom has changed my awareness and comprehension in many ways, and architecture is one of those areas. Every time I walk into a public restroom, I find myself either approving or scornful. Once a restroom was just a quick stop, but with a toddler it is practically a destination, and every design detail touches me. How deep are the sink countertops. How high is the paper towel dispenser. Can my child reach the faucet or the soap? Are the stalls big enough for a mother and awkward child? Where the heck will I change my infant?

And then I think, "My goodness, are the people who designed this bathroom IDIOTS?" (And then I think, "No, probably just men who never took a child into a bathroom.")