The DMV

I always hated the DMV. The long lines, the suffocating feeling of the closed-in room crammed with hundreds of people clutching their tiny ticket, waiting for their little number to show up in red on the screen.

I hate it even more now that I have a child. 

In retrostpect, I would suggest they need the following: mother parking, like they have at Babies R Us; clean floors; a waiting room or small play area for children (since I can't put my child down on your disgusting floor); clearer instructions on their website (which I checked several times); kind people.

I arrived at the DMV at 10:45. I drove around and around and around the parking lot and nearby side-streets trying to locate a parking space that wasn't more than half a mile away. I am not a fan of lugging my 15 lb baby and car-seat across long distances. With no luck, I parked illegally, just in front of this sign:

I hauled my baby and my bulging diaper bag into the DMV only to discover a 15 minute wait line just to get my precious ticket. Once I finally had my ticket, I sat down in the front row so that I had room to manage Addie's rambunctiousness. When I sat down, they were at J597. My number was J623. And they were taking a J ticket every 15 minutes. I should have left right then. 

In the next two and half hours of waiting, the following events occurred: 

• Addie kicked her puffs container across the room. Yes, the lid was open. Yes, over 50 little star-shaped puffs scattered into every grimy corner of the disgusting room. Yes, I knelt on my hands and knees on said floor to pick up each little puff. Yes, the entire DMV audience watched my crawl of shame as I scooped up puffs in my bare hands that were covered with all sorts of hair, dirt, dust bunnies, and disease. And yes, not one single person bent to offer help to the poor mother who, with child in arms, attempted to clean up her embarrassing mess. And yes, some people even managed to step on and smash the little puffs into dust, even as I was en-route to pick them up. 

• Addie proceeded to get tired and hungry all at once. However, I had not planned for a two and a half hour marathon, so I was without food. My fussy baby clambered all over me for over a half hour. In the process, she lost her soothie (binky) twice. Soothies do not fall and stay in one place. They roll like it's their job. And lucky for me, it managed to make 3 complete circles over 10 feet in diameter, picking up the before mentioned hair, dirt, dust bunnies, and disease -- the soothie traveled across 4 rows of seats! And it happened twice. And I gave the DMV audience two more great shows as I tried to chase the soothie around and around. 

• Addie finally fell asleep, but only took a 20 minute nap. 

• My number was finally called at 1:15. I hastily packed up the mess we'd made trying to keep Addie entertained and hustled to kiosk #12. I set Addie on the counter and tried to pull out every document I would need to register the car. The kiosk woman said, "My, you have your hands full." I had several responses come to mind, but I simply said, "Yes, I do."

• This woman then took my forms and said, "Oohhh, I can't do this for you. Jonathan's name is on your registration from last year, and we just can't do it if your name is not on there as well."

As I walked away from that evil place completely exhausted/frustrated and sans registration tags, the only thing that could have topped the day was a ticket for my illegal parking. 

Thankfully, I got away with something.