After posting this morning about having a nice relaxing day at home, my husband called me to let me know that someone had stolen his license plates. Ugh. I told him to call and file a police report while I called the DMV (or here, the DOR) to find out what we needed. It seems that none of the DOR’s actually answer their phones so that you can ask them what you need before you drive down with kids in tow. I left a message, but of course no one called me back. Neither do they have a “what to do if some low-life steals your license plates” check list on their website.
The police officer my husband spoke with said we would need the paperwork from when we renewed our license plates and the number for the police report. So, the kids and I headed there with this information in hand. We usually don’t have too long of a wait at the DOR. Since it’s still early in the month, I was hoping that would be the case. Unfortunately, we ended up waiting for an hour. It would have been much longer, but quite a few people were tired of waiting and left. We got up to the counter and were informed that because my name wasn’t on the title, I couldn’t get the replacement plates (although they are happy to have me come in and pay when it’s time to renew). I knew we should have taken care of that; the next day my husband has off from work, we’ll get that little bit taken care of.
I called my husband and left a message asking for him to call me when he got a chance. We headed down the street to buy new screws to hold new license plates on. Thieves stealing license plates don’t take the courtesy to replace your screws. Since I had to buy new screws anyway, I bought locking mounting screws. I figured a little deterrant wouldn’t hurt. I went ahead and bought a second set for the van. While waiting for my husband to get out of his meetings and call us back, we decided to head to the mall. We could get several errands out of the way.
First we went to get the boys haircuts. My older son has been growing his hair out for quite some time. I have fully supported his decision, but admittedly it’s been looking pretty shabby lately and it wasn’t turning out the way he had hoped. I didn’t feel confident in my hair cutting abilities and felt we needed a professional to get it in control since he had decided to cut it. He came out with a totally adorable haircut which is still super cool. He can even gel the top of it for some spikes. He is very happy. My younger son, after watching his brother (or after waiting even more after the DOR), decided he didn’t want to cut his hair. Actually, he informed me he only wants me to cut it at home. I guess I’ll have to hone my skills anyway.
Next we headed for pretzels. My daughter has been wanting a pretzel from the mall for quite a while. Today was the day to get one. With a little more time to kill, we headed to Motherhood Maternity and Old Navy in the hopes of finding some maternity clothes. Motherhood was a bust. I didn’t like anything there, which I am perfectly fine with. I hate that they sell their customers’ information to formula companies, no matter how hard you try to keep your information private. It violates the WHO code and basic business ethics.
At Old Navy, we found two possible pairs of pants. One pair of corduroy pants was perfect except that it had a true waist. My belly just isn’t big enough to hold them up yet. The second pair however, was perfect. The under belly waist means it fits now and will through the entire pregnancy. The cargo, slightly flared leg is totally my style. The fabric is lightweight but lined in jersey knit. It feels like you are pulling on the most comfortably soft sweatpants ever but they look like regular pants. Score!
At this point my normally non-mall going, anti-shopping self was more than ready for my husband’s return call. I explained that I needed a signed and notarized power of attorney to get his replacement plates. I had the form in hand and he said his schedule was free.
We drove thirty minutes to his work and took him out to lunch to give everyone a break. We were making the most of our day. After dropping him off and driving the thirty minutes back, I was hoping for a short line. Instead, we waited another hour. The teller (are they tellers?) called the number before us and then said that our number was next. I gathered the kids and we were ready to get up there. However, this woman apparently had an itchy trigger finger. So, when the next available person looked to see what number was next, she skipped over our number. I wasn’t certain whether to scream or cry. Itchy finger woman went on break and it took me a couple of numbers before someone would listen that our number had been skipped. The woman acted all put out, but ten minutes later we were walking out with my husband’s new license plates.
Whew! We came home and the kids played in the bathtub for an hour to relax. It was a long day. It wasn’t what we had planned, but it all worked out. It wasn’t entirely bad, as we tried to find joy in what we were doing.
I’m putting tiny containers of bubbles in the van for occassions like this. My older son had some with him and they entertained us at the DOR for quite a while.
The last time I was at the DOR, there was a deaf couple there. I watched as the automaton DOR employee told them (through notes) that they’d need special permissions to go through a TDD (?) service to get help with their license plate. (or maybe it was that they couldn’t use the TDD phone at that branch, I can’t remember) Either way – they wasted 30 minutes going back and forth only to find out that they’d have to take extra steps, just because of their different abilities.
It’s hard to *not* have a frustrating time at places like that. I’m sorry you had a bad day!