Last week, I had to go to the dreaded DMV. Though I swore I’d made my last visit there, it turns out neither Rob nor I corrected our address upon moving, and our car registration renewal was sent to the wrong place. I took the earliest available appointment, an after-school option, thus ensuring that I had Scarlett along for the trip. Awesome choice, because if there’s anything more fun than going to the DMV, it’s taking a small child to the DMV. Especially a small child who announces the dire need to pee immediately after you arrive and are assigned a number. Winners all around.

We had gotten there early, and, rather than hang out in the depressing and crowded germ closet that is the DMV, we decided to take a walk (as I’ve said before, this is a term I use loosely) through the nearby Panhandle, which looks just like it sounds, a long, narrow extension to the “pan” of Golden Gate Park. It’s a place I’ve taken Scarlett a million times, because our first apartment was just one block away.

Back then, I walked (REAL walking) through the Panhandle almost every day with my new baby, snuggling her into a wrap against my chest or tucking her into an Ergo carrier to go get my morning coffee. I pushed her in a stroller for miles to get to Spreckels Lake, where we watched people sail small, electric powered boats. Read More>