You know what happens when you assume . . .

We got a letter from the Maryland MVA (that's Motor Vehicle Administration, for all of you who are used to a "DMV;" heaven forbid local governments come up with one name for the same function) stating we didn't have insurance on our Camry and that we were going to have a lovely $300ish fine.

I hesitated calling the MVA because I cannot stand dealing with government workers. Most of the ones I deal with are belligerent, lazy, uninformed, and fairly unintelligent (though they insist on insinuating I'm the stupid one). Yup, I greatly generalize when it comes to government workers.

So instead I first called our insurance company and the Toyota dealership. Our insurance company is awesome and was very helpful, though they couldn't do anything to get us out of the fine. I called the Toyota dealership, and they gave me the usual dealership runaround. I'm supposed to hear from them tomorrow . . ..

Today I finally broke down and called the MVA, because the deadline for information is fast approaching. And lo and behold, I talked to someone who is allowed to think beyond the borders of our suspension warning, and she came up with a logical solution to our problem that did not involve a fine. AND she was nice.

Huh, who knew.

Baby blog updated

Her first boat experience.

Baby blog updated

Teeth pictures.

Do as I say, not as I do

There are many things I want to instill in my child(ren). Things I learned from experience, from observance, and from obedience. One thing I really hope my children have is compassion for and a defense of the underdog. I don't know why I've thought of the following experience recently, but it's actually been on my mind a lot.

Because I grew up in a relatively small city, I went to school with many of the same people for 12 years. One of the girls in my grade got picked on in junior high (it mortifies me I can't recall whether high school was easier for her). She was picked on a lot. One incident is vivid in my memory: the teacher's back was turned and a boy kicked her. The whole class erupted in laughter. She crawled under a table and accused, "You kicked me!", which only prompted more laughter from her classmates and tears from herself.

I can't remember why she was picked on. Who knows how bullies choose their victims. As I look at this girl with adult eyes, though, I realize there were probably things going on in her life that made her a target--abuse, neglect, money issues, etc. The adult in me cringes that my little 12ish-year-old self didn't even think about walking in her shoes and never came to her defense.

In school I was fortunately insulated from the nasty kids. I don't know why. Was it my type-A, take-no-crap personality? Was my confidence a deterrent because I wouldn't be a fun victim? Did my sassy attitude show I could take it and dish it back worse? I don't know. But I wish I had taken that blanket of social safety and wrapped it around that poor girl. I wish I had, at least once, told the kids to leave her alone.

I know why I did nothing: I didn't want to become the focus of the nasty little junior high hecklers. Isn't that horrible? Because I was afraid of being negatively noticed, I let it go. Granted, I never participated in being mean (I'm so glad I wasn't one of those kids), but I also never befriended or defended the friendless picked-on girl.

I hope I can teach Nadine the importance of defending those who are unable or unwilling to defend themselves. And I hope she's the kind of person who will do so, no matter the perceived cost.