DMVentures

     I took both girls with me to the DMV today. Twice. How's that for self-torture? I had no choice, however; I had to register our new car by tomorrow, and of course the DMV is closed on Saturdays. I thought I could get it all done in an organized manner. Last night James gathered up all of the necessary documents. This morning Norah had tumbling class at the YMCA at 10:15. No problem, we would get to the DMV at 9:45, smoothly complete the transaction, and be on our way. Ha. Ha ha ha. We did get to there at 9:45, which is quite the minor miracle in itself. I should mention that I was wearing my gym clothes, because I was planning to lift weights while Juliet tumbled. They were clean, which is always a plus, but I was only wearing one sports bra. Normally I double-wrap. Small obstacle. I wrapped June in the K'tan carrier and voila! Baby functions as second sports bra. The line inside was ridiculously short; maybe three people ahead of me (It was still long enough for a slightly wild-looking man with a portfolio to park himself next to me and begin sketching away, all the while discussing how to make millions off of art. Which is why he is doing sketches at the DMV. These people really do always happen to me. We'll have to talk about refrigerator lady at the appliance center sometime. I did get a neat pencil drawing out of this encounter, though). I get up to the counter. Give the clerk all of my paperwork, plus the license plates from our former car. And it turns out the the paper James promised me was our proof of insurance is actually a completely meaningless cover letter. But it's okay; James will have All State fax the real proof of insurance over. I only have to pay $295 for tax, title and license. And I can come back to complete the transaction after tumbling, because who knows how long it will take that fax to get here? All is well again. I wave a cheerful goodbye to sketchy-man. And we are gone. Fast forward 90 minutes later. I am sweaty and surely smelly. Juliet has entered the danger zone, located approximately 20 minutes from nap time, and it is dicey as to whether or not she will obey me. I have neither fed not changed June since 9:00 this morning. As we walk to the front door, a woman stomps out. "That line is ridiculous." Actually, it's just backed up all the way to the door. Juliet finds an empty space and begins to run back and forth, singing her "princess song." The princess song is high-pitched. It is very close to being in bat-only range, but unfortunately it is just low enough that humans can hear it as well. June starts to squawk. I might not be the worst-smelling person in there, but I am close. And since DMV clerks have to eat too, half the lanes are closed. Somehow I manage to corral Juliet and grip her hand, all while doing the baby-bounce with June. Twenty bad minutes later, I am at the front of the line. My transaction takes 30 seconds. And I know that I will never go the the DMV with children again. But of course we all know that I will, because that is how it works.

      This was actually my second trip to do tax, title and license in less than six months. Up until November of last year, James and I had only ever owned one car. We managed to be a single-vehicle family through two years of college and class schedules and jobs, and then another three years of baby and doctor visits and playdates. Happily, James got a raise two months before June arrived, and then we bought a 2007 Accord, to match our exhausted 1998 Accord. There was no comparison. The new car was (insert any hip word for "cool" that I am not cool enough to use). Sun roof. CD changer. Automatic locks! But it was not big enough, as we quickly learned. And last month we traded it in for a Mazda5, which we had wanted in the first place. It doesn't have a sun roof, but it does have sliding doors. And a CD player. And automatic locks (Cosco sells an automatic lock for your house! How cool is that?)! And hopefully, I will not have to go back to the DMV for a long, long time.