Sunday, August 14, 2011

THE FINAL STEP - DO YOU REALLY WANT THAT LAST NAME?

Here is a funny story about how a seemingly easy trip to the DMV turned into a near-catastrophic disaster. (Well, not quite, but it was pretty depressing.)

So last Friday was the only day that I could run to the DMV to get my new married-last-name license before I started a M-F work schedule.  I took the opportunity and packed up Sofia in the car and we headed out.  I was really concerned about getting a decent license picture this time, and told myself to wear my favorite purple hoodie, (even though we're in the middle of summer) and was giving myself a pep talk to smile naturally.  I picked up the carseat and hauled Sofia inside while we waited in line.  When I finally got up to the counter, I filled out the paperwork and headed to the cashier to pay.  Oh, crap.  They don't take Visa.  I only have Visa.  (WHO DOESN'T TAKE VISA?!)

Anyway-  I pick up the carseat and start walking out of the DMV to assess my surroundings:  where is the nearest ATM?  There is a grocery store a few blocks away and a bank a little further.  I go for the grocery store.  I walk outside in the 80 degree weather in my hoodie (stupid!) and take out sixty dollars.  I stick it in my back pocket and begin walking back to the DMV, carseat in hand.  Sofia is almost fifteen pounds now, and I think the carseat itself weighs about ten, so my arms are starting to burn and I put her down for a second to rest before I trek the last block to the DMV entrance.  We finally get inside, wait again, and go pay the cashier.  I feel around for the money in my back pocket... it's not there.  Okay, maybe it's in the front pocket?  Not there.  Now, I'm starting to panic... did I leave it in the carseat or something?  I nudge Sofia around, it's not in there either... I realize it had probably fallen out during our strenuous walk from the grocery store.  

Awesome.  I feel incredibly defeated at this point, I pick up the carseat and Sofia and I walk out of the DMV for the SECOND time.  On our way out, a kind gentleman retorts that, "yeah, that carseat 'aint that heavy, lady".  I pause for a second and decide that giving this man a piece of my mind ruins that 'new mom image' I have going, so I give a death stare instead and proceed to walk out of the building.  I am not physically able to carry her anymore to retrace my footsteps, so I lock the carseat into the car and drive past the area we were walking around.  From the car, I spot three twenty dollar bills floating in the wind by the sidewalk.  I know, I'm a ninja.  I stop the car, turn on the hazards, and get out running for my money like I'm in a cash machine game show.  I catch it all, despite the wind, and get back in the car and drive (once again) to the DMV.  Sofia and I head inside to wait again and pay the cashier for the third time.  The cashier tells me to take my paperwork and go sit and wait for my picture.  The result?  I look sweaty and angry.

To top off this complete fail of an afternoon-- as we were walking out of the DMV, I step on melted gum on the asphalt with my favorite pair of Tom's.

Single moms?  I don't know how you do it every day.

This was the final step to OFFICIALLY-officially becoming a De La Rosa, and while it might not have been a graceful exit, all is said and done.
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