renewal

I renewed my driver's license yesterday.

The clerk at the DMV told me to hang on to my old license and to put it in a safe place. Just in case I lost my new license, I would need my old license to get a new one made up. I looked at my old license, at the photo, and I almost didn't recognize myself.

It had been eight years since I last renewed my license, but those eight years seem like a lifetime ago. In Wisconsin, your drivers license is good for eight years and expires on your birthday.

So eight years ago, on my birthday, I was at the DMV arguing with the clerk. I remember it clearly because I was just there to renew my license, but there were some obstacles. My license had been suspended because of a speeding ticket I didn't know I received because it had been sent to my ex-husband's house and he saw no need to forward it to me at my new address. Ironically, I had paid the speeding ticket, but they suspended my license anyway because I... well, I honestly don't remember now. But after my license was suspended, I was supposed to do something to let the DMV know that I had done the things appropriate for getting my license unsuspended but I didn't know that because my ex-husband had thrown all of my mail away. So that took some time to sort out and I could have been in a lot of trouble for driving without a valid license.

I also had to change my name and address on my license and my vehicle title, so I needed proof of my new (old) name and address. Which, luckily, I had brought that along without knowing it. Thank goodness I hadn't mailed my electric bill before I went to the DMV. Also, I happened to have my divorce papers in my glove compartment, which was a remarkable stroke of luck. But this was an usual occurrence for me. I didn't normally have my shit together.

See, because of my divorce my life was kind of up in the air. Granted, my divorce had been final for almost two years at this point, but as happens with divorce, shit was still going on.

Also, I was pregnant with the Ubergoober. Goober's biological father (BF) was in treatment for alcoholism and his drug-addict mother was living with him. Us. Kind of. I was half living at BF's house and half living at my house. We didn't know where we were going with our relationship yet. We only knew we were having a baby and at that point we were playing it by ear. It was all we could do. I was still an emotional wreck from my divorce and he was still a drunk.

I mention this now because I remember screaming it at the DMV clerk at the time. I was trying to get all of this sorted out so I could just renew my drivers license and nothing was going right. So I burst into tears and shouted, "And I'm pregnant!"

"No, you're not," the clerk said, eyeing me up and down. "You don't look pregnant."

I looked down at my belly, which was just starting to show. I've mentioned before that I am skinny, but unless you've seen me in person, you probably don't understand how small I am. I make hobbits seem tall. I am the size of a diminutive woodland elf. At the time of my birthday eight years ago, I no longer fit into my jeans. I was relegated to wearing elastic pants and the skin on my belly constantly itched because it was stretching so much and so fast and all I wanted to do was go home -- to BF's home -- and take off my pants so I could put lotion on my belly. And did I mention that I fainted a lot when I was pregnant, too? Every time I stood up. So I was uncomfortable, dangerously close to passing out, BF had just called to tell me he had forgotten my birthday and the DMV clerk was yelling at me. Not the best day of my life.

See, my plan for my birthday had been to get my license renewed and then go home and spend time with my growing family - BF and our baby. Maybe get dinner. Maybe catch a movie. Nothing big.

It didn't end up happening that way. I'll spare you the details, but it was a lot of yelling, a lot of crying and a long winter walk to the restaurant because my car was stuck and BF didn't have a license. I cried myself to sleep that night, and for a lot of nights after.

So when I went yesterday to the DMV, I was surprised that I was in and out of there in less than a half hour. I had all the paperwork already filled out, I had my checkbook and I was ready for the photo. There were no surprise license suspensions, no expired license plates and no extra fines. In eight years, I had gotten organized. Well, as much as one can be with three children, a full-time job, a part-time musical career, a family business and a husband.

And later, Nature Boy asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday on Monday.

"I don't know... I have concerts Friday, Saturday and Sunday and a late meeting on Monday," I said. "I really don't have much time for anything."

"Maybe I could take you to lunch?"

"Nah... how about dinner?"

"We'll have to take Goober with us," Nature Boy said.

And I thought for a moment. It sounded just perfect to me. Dinner out with my family. My legal family, who wanted to spend time with me. Who want to make me happy.

I think it's going to be the best birthday ever.