Oh my day yesterday.
Yesterday, I decided I was going to finally get my Missouri Driver’s License and Tags for the truck. Mostly, because my Georgia ones were all expired and driving around with an expired license and tags with a [almost] 15 month old in the car didn’t sit well with me.
So, I perused their website, started gathering up all the forms and printouts they want.
Then our internet decides to be selective about what sites I can visit. We have craptastical Verizon hotspot internet since that’s the best we can do in the boonies.
Don’t get me started.
Of all the websites it’s refusing to load, my car insurance provider and my car lease company are two of them. I need information from both. Gah. Finally I have to get someone else in another state to logon and download all the info I need to email to me so I can print it out.
This whole thing, which should have taken all of 15 minutes, takes nearly 2 hours and Olivia’s entire naptime.
She wakes up. I’m already seriously frustrated from that whole ordeal.
We eat lunch, it’s 2.30pm and we take off for the DMV, which closes at 4.30pm.
We get there and I notice a little bit of spit-up on her shirt. No big deal, I tell myself, heat, car ride, lots of water at lunch. I back-wrap her and we go in. The AC is broken at the DMV and there’s a small crowd of people crammed into a space about as large as my bedroom. Not kidding.
So we take our number and wait. Thankfully, Olivia just hangs out on my back, looking around quietly.
When our number is called, it’s 3.15pm and I bring all my stuff to the counter. I start handing her the piles of papers and she pulls out the ones she needs. Then she asks for my old registration from Georgia – something that wasn’t listed anywhere on their website. My old expired registration is at home.
So.
I have to leave and drive home to get the registration. Right as I cross the train tracks at the bottom of our street, I hear a noise in the back. Olivia has thrown up everywhere.
I park and get to her side of the car to survey the damage. It’s everywhere. Half of it is cheese. She’s smiling and a bit sweaty but otherwise seems okay. I rationalize that I’ll clean her up, clean up the car seat, and if she’s still in a good mood, I’ll try to get this task done.
It’s 97 degrees out and I’m driving around in an expired vehicle. Fabulous.
I clean her up. I wipe down the car seat. I get my registration. We set off again.
I get back there at 4pm.
Everything is in order! She just has to fax one thing to this one guy at this one office so he can send back some waiver of something. While we wait on that, I go to get my driver’s license.
The amusing thing about the license is they still had all my old information in their computers from when I lived there in high school. The lady behind the counter found that especially amusing as all she had to change was my last name and, ahem, weight. [god, I wish]
So she gets everything processed, checks over my birth certificate and proof of residence then smiles at me and asks me ever so sweetly, “Will this be cash or check?”
Really? The computer that process the tags takes credit cards. FOUR FEET AWAY, the computer that processes the driver’s licenses does not.
So I grit my teeth to keep from screaming or crying or both and ask her where the closest ATM within walking distance is. She says there’s one a block and a half away.
97 degrees outside. Baby that’s already thrown up once, maybe twice.
We hoof it to the ATM, get our cash and get back. I’m a sweaty mess. Olivia is a sweaty mess on my back and is making little, “MMMM mmmmm mmmm” noises and I’m frantically praying that she doesn’t throw up all down my back.
It’s 4.20pm.
But, she finishes the license and has me take my picture. In my Georgia license, which I changed after I got married, I’m pregnant with Olivia.
In my new Missouri license?
baby head photobomb
Baby head! This is the one thing I love about living in a small town. The ladies behind the counter thought she was adorable. [who doesn't]
So.
We finally, finally make it out of there with new plates and a new license a little before 5pm. I decide to head home instead of grocery shopping – a decision I’m regretting today – where Olivia threw up once more. She ate watermelon and pedialyte for dinner and went to bed early after a nice long bath. She woke up four times during the night, drank a ridiculous amount of water, and sweated out whatever it was because she’s reasonably fine today. She’s a bit warm but I’m praying it’s just teeth.
Can someone bring me some alcohol? And chocolate?
