Let me tell you something.  If you want to finish off a perfectly horrible week, quite possibly the worst week of your life (if you are feeling HIGHLY melodramatic), I would highly recommend going to the DMV to get your driver's license renewed. 

I would suggest going to the DMV AFTER you have cried for 30 minutes because UPS lost the shirts you sent to Cathy of Canadia (sic intended), the 2 shirts that took you 2 WHOLE days to make, that you then spent $3 MORE than the entire order to ship, just so that Cathy could have her shirts for the party at which she was going to announce her pregnancy with YOUR shirt.  Except apparently Overnight Delivery when defined by UPS takes 6 days.  6 days.  Did I mention that UPS Overnight Delivery to Canadia took 6 days?  For heaven's sake, it's Canada, not Kazakhstan. 

The package apparently spent two nights in Louisville.  I'm not exactly sure WHY it went to Louisville and I don't know if it had a good time, but I would have preferred it had taken the red eye to Ontario.  And this choice in shipping is because the woman at UPS said, "at least we don't lose packages like the Postal Service does."  RIIIIIIGGGGHHHT.

So after talking to three people at UPS, and when I came to the realization that Cathy was NOT getting her shirts in time, I may have had a small breakdown.

I like to refer to it as a "small breakdown" for those (she who shall remain nameless) who may want to diagnose me with post partum depression.  Believe you me, people, I am one of the three people on the Internet NOT taking Zoloft, so if anyone wants to write me a script, have at it.  It's not like I'm threatening to kill my kids on a daily basis.  No, wait.  Rewind.  It's not like I'm GOING to kill my kids.  But back to the breakdown.  There I was, crying on my couch, with my son desperately saying, "no cry, mommy, no cry" when my husband came in the door.  I told him I was off to the DMV.

Where I realized too late that our state's fun little perk of recycling your fantastic DMV photo from when you were 20 pounds lighter, wearing your money outfit, tan as can be, clearly single and fabulous, has also been recently changed. 

"Sorry, Ma'am.  We are going to need a new photo."

I looked at myself in the plexiglass reflection of the Monet print on the wall.  Oh, dear.  There's looking bad for your driver's license photo and then there is being 4 weeks postpartum after having eaten an entire cheesecake AND crying for 30 minutes over Cathy's failed order.  And did I mention I was wearing a baby?

K:  Can you see the baby in the photo? 
DMV lackey:  Don't worry about it.

I just looked like I was wearing an attractive Mayan wrap over my sweater.  Aren't those just all the rage these days?

But wait.  There's more.  B showed up with a present for The Boy--a Thomas the Train that really runs.

It only took him three days to do this...


I'll spare you the picture of the pink scissors used to cut the train out of my hair.  Props to Derek for making my ear look thin. 

I realized they did this kind of crap.  I just didn't realize they were going to do it to me. 

Thank God that "tomorrow is another day."