The DMV

I went to the DMV this afternoon.  For those of you who have gone to a California DMV, you would agree that I could stop with my first sentence and classify it as a horror story.  But, my story doesn't stop there, because I went to the DMV, in California, with an 11-week old baby. Yes, I am crazy, but I also have lived here for longer than I am supposed to without a California Driver's License, so I had to get it done.  Luckily, I scheduled an appointment, which sped things up a bit, but folks, its still the DMV.

Before heading out, I went to grab my passport because i had heard I would need it as a second form of identification.  Of course, after digging through 12 drawers, our files, and piles of papers, I came up empty handed.  Online I read a marriage certificate would serve the same purpose so I grabbed that and Hudson and I went out the door, surprisingly only 5 minutes later than planned.  He was fussy in his carseat, and I figured it was because he would not burp after I fed him, and was probably trying to calm his gassy tummy from eating. I took him into the DMV in his carseat attached to the stroller.  Once inside, he made it clear he did NOT want to be in that.  He was grunting while doing these little crunches, trying to break out of the straps.  Not wanting to cause a scene (let's be honest, everyone was already staring at me-- young white girl with a baby, and a wedding ring.  Rare scene.), I caved and took him out.  He was a perfect baby when I was holding him, so that's what we did--the. whole. time. So there I am, huge load of cargo and holding a baby while trying to fill out paperwork, etc.  At the second station, I was told that since I had already had a California DL, this should be simpler.  Good news.  Well, my first license was in my maiden name, so I would have to provide legal documentation of my name change.  Perfect, because I wasn't able to find my passport, which I now no longer needed, I grabbed my marriage certificate, just what she needed.  Things were looking good.  But then, as she was processing things, she said, oh, I guess I need a birth certificate or passport too.  The system wouldn't let her process it without it. Great.  I didn't have them with me. I didn't know where they were at home. so when she asked if I could come back later today with them I gave her "that look" while holding a fussy baby, and explained I didn't have them.  She was then able to process it without them. Hallelujah!

Next stop, photo line. The line was a single file line crammed between two stanchions.  Not the best circumstance for me and my large stroller.  Oh well.  Here goes nothing. The man behind me in line kindly pointed out that my baby had spit-up all over his face.  Great.  Maybe that's why he had quit fussing a bit.  My thoughts as I wiped the stuff from his face (and my foot) were that he should be much calmer now and be fine with me putting him in his stroller.  As I put him in his stroller, he looked at me with the "mom, what are you doing?!?" look and started to cry.  Not happening.  He stayed in my arms. Thumb print taken. Signature signed (with my "e" looking like a "w", but we all know that wasn't worth requesting to re-sign...it will serve as my reminder of this wonderful afternoon). Photo taken.  I probably look like a crazy woman.  No I didn't want to see the photo. If I saw it, I would probably want it retaken--no time for that.

Next stop, written exam.  There were signs everywhere saying no talking, even in line.  Clearly this was not the place for a fussy baby.  I must have a smart baby.  He totally read the signs.  He was silent. :)  I passed the exam, missing 3, which was the limit! While waiting to turn in the exam I thought I smelled something bad.  I looked down at Hudson, still in my arms, and saw a blotch of liquid brown spreading across his back right above his pant line.  Great.  Dirty diaper. Is it on me?  Who knows? I was wearing black. phew. I look at Hudson who is chewing his hands now and see they are covered in spit-up. Again. Great.  Turn around and there is a large puddle of chunky spit-up adorning the black DMV rug. I try to wipe it out, but pretty sure it will be there for the next 20 years (because certainly, they won't be replacing the thing before then!).  I turn in the test, find out I pass, and with excitement ask, "this is it, right?"  With a smile the lady relies, "Yep, all done!"  Woo-hoo!

Out to the car we go where I set up my changing station in the trunk of my SUV.  Just waiting for a ticket citing me for indecent exposure in public, I proceed to completely undress and change Hudson in the parking lot.  Thankfully its a warm November day, so Im not worried about him getting cold.  He just sits and kicks, and laughs.  Yeah, hilarious dude. But really, I was laughing too.  I wasn't honestly frustrated through this whole things.  I just took it in, shaking my head and realizing life as a Mom is a new life.  Harder, but good.  I have endless stories now.  I changed Hudson and got us situated in the car.  Hudson started crying.  Then he proceeded to screaming.  I called Colby who informed me that Hudson isn't happy, as he could him him clearly over the speaker phone  :) True.  I looked at the clock and it was 4:21.  Holy cow, I was at the DMV for 2 hours?  I knew it was a while, but it didn't seem like that long.  2 hours of my life i will never get back, i thoughts. Once I got home, I pulled the stroller out of the trunk and peered over the seat to Hudson, who stared back at me quiet and wide awake.  I walked around to get him out and he was dead asleep.  30 seconds.  I'll take it. Did I mention that Hudson has slept all. day. long?  He has been awake 4 times today to eat, and hang out at the DMV, and has slept every other second.  I would have loved to play with him at home and let him sleep at the DMV.  I guess he just wanted that experience. :) As I called Colby back to tell him Hudson was now asleep, I saw it was 3:30. Ha.  I had been at the DMV 1 hour, not 2.  My car was on pre-time change time.  That was a relief.  I just got an hour of my life back.  The simple things, folks.

Well, there you have it.  My horror story at the DMV, expect I really see it more as a comedy than horror story.  I feel I take this all well and just laugh when nothing else works. Here's to at least 2 more years until I head back to the DMV!