DMV--Notice Me!

Nothing tears you down like being treated like you are invisible. We all like to be noticed, but when you are used to being adored being ignored can be particularly painful. My son learned this life lesson the hard way this week.

We recently purchased a new car, and we are really enjoying the reliability and safety of our new ride, however there are two sides to every coin, and the nasty side of this coin meant a trip to our local Department of Motor Vehicles office to register it.

Now, based on my past experiences with DMV offices, they are horrible, evil places where happiness goes to die as you wait and wait, and deal with rude, impatient employees. So, going on my own with a wiggly baby to face these circumstances was at the bottom of my list of things I would like to do; right under letting Henry pull all of my hair out. But, it had to be done, so I gathered my supplies and courage, and we went.

I entered the DMV looking a bit like a pack mule, (it's amazing how much you feel like a pack mule once you are a parent, laden with bags and bags of supplies). I was awed to see a clean, well lit space with plenty of seating. The walls were adorned with posters that said, "Yes! We can help you with that," and all of the employees were smiling. I checked in, and the woman asked me for my cell phone number. Instantly I received a text message letting me know my wait time (which was short), that I would receive updates, and that I could move around, and even leave while I waited, as long as I returned when it was my turn. The sophistication of this system blew me away, and I later told Zac that this DMV was a resort compared to others.

With nothing left to do but wait, we sat down. Henry looked around a bit, excited to be in a new place, and then immediately went to work trying to make new friends. Now, because Henry is incredibly cute and charming, this procedure is usually a piece of cake. Henry's technique is to stare at the target expressionless, and then burst into a brilliant baby grin that instantly melts hearts. Our day at the DMV was his first experience with rejection.

It seems that the good people of Reno have no idea how great they have it because they were all grumpy. I mean, no matter how lovely of a DMV you are dealing with, no one really wants to spend their time waiting in it, but still. Henry first set his sights on an elderly woman sitting to our left. He tried every trick in the book, and I could tell that she was aware of him, but she refused to look at him. He tried to win over a few other people, always coming back to target # 1, with no luck. Finally he looked at me, with a befuddled expression that clearly read, "am I having an off day?" I smiled at him, and kissed him, and this made him feel re-energized, so he decided to try again.

This time he gave quickly up on his usual tactics, and came up with a brilliant adaptation. Henry paused for a few seconds after stopping his cooing sounds, and then he coughed once. Then he coughed twice. Soon he was making rhythmic coughing sounds. Not like, when you need to cough, but more like when you clear your throat to get someone's attention. Henry was trying to get someone's attention, and although this lady was like a fortress of disinterest, she did take note of the coughing. Without looking at Henry or me, she scooted away, escaping, I suppose, from the "germs." Henry continued to cough in her direction, until she moved away completely. Henry watched her go with sad eyes, and then looked back at me, defeated.

Luckily, a bright young woman took her place, and she was delighted by Henry, and he was ecstatic to learn that I was not the only one who could see him. Throughout our time there he ended up making a few more friends, but he now has a priceless life lesson under his baby belt.