Before you go thinking I am just a masochist, there is a reason for this early quest for official documentation for our little one. In September I am going to Brazil to present a paper at a conference and Izzy and Patrick and going to tag along (Izzy because I am her food source and Patrick because someone has to feed the baby while I am working... OK and I'll admit, I also really like his company and wouldn't want to travel without him). September seems far enough away, except for the tiny wrinkle that not only does my little fluffernutter need a passport but a visa too.... and to apply for that visa one needs to apply in person or pay an exorbant fee to an agency to apply in person for you. Oh, and did I mention the closest consulate is LA?
So the race is on to acquire a passport. On the surface it seems simple enough... birth certificate, application, fee, photo and a quick trip to a passport facility to drop it all off. No problem. There was an order of operations to this quest, which began with 1) acquire birth certificate. I set Patrick on this errand last Thursday. He dutifully arrived just as vital records opened and inquired about the birth certificate, only to be summarily excused empty handed because they didn't have it yet... and "you should call the birth center and tell them to send it over" I obeyed and called, only to find out it was sent over a week ago and unless the mail truly was transported via snail, it should be there already. So Patrick went back again on Friday and lo and behold they did have the birth certificate on file, an in fact the lady admitted that she found it later in the day on Thursday after Patrick left. So birth certificate in hand Patrick came home. I looked at it and said "umm my name is not spelled Kelley" Sooo back to vital records Patrick went and retrieved another birth certificate without spelling errors.
While Patrick fetched the birth certificate I set myself to the task of taking passport photos of Isadora. I set up a white sheet on a bouncy chair and proceeded to take at least 4 dozen photos of the babe... trying to simultaneously keep her head straight, hands out of the photo, expression neutral and eyes open. Once I had what I thought was a keeper I used an online tool from the state department to crop the photo and test if it indeed met their standards. Here is a sampler of my attempts. Can you pick out the chosen one?
Step one and two accomplished, I filled out the application and looked up the hours and location of the nearest passport facility. Open from 8:30 to 4 pm (no lunch break) the page said and so with about 45 minutes to spare before a doctor's appointment, we set out to print the picture and drop off the passport. I learned that Walgreens can't print from a memory stick and then went to Kinkos where they easily printed the photos but with a warning... the "man" may not like my photography because there was a shadow behind Isadora's head. Well, I was going to take my chances at this point I decided. Photo in hand and 30 minutes to spare we headed to the passport place... only to find the door locked and a sign that said closed from noon to 1 pm for lunch. It was 12:58 so we hung out (in the heat) for 10 minutes and when no one arrived we gave up and headed to the doctor. I thought it strange because this was indeed the place I went to for Evie's passport and Patrick confirmed that he picked up his passport there too.
Not to be discouraged by a long lunch, we went back at 3 pm and found the door still locked and no one home. OK, no problem we'll go to the post office... the page said that we could drop them off there too... We waited in line for 15 minutes only to be told that we needed an appointment to use the post office as a drop off point. Well by this point we were all pretty tired of this identification seeking adventure and decided to call it quits for the weekend.
On Monday, more determined than ever, and after a weekend to perfect my passport photo-taking skills, I sent Patrick out with a form to notarize so that I could get the passport without him. By 10 am he had aquired the proper signatures and I coaxed a rather unwilling Genevieve into the car to set out on what would hopefully be the end of this saga. I first called the passport place just to make sure they were open... and indeed they were. Evie and I stopped to print a new passport photo and then went to the passport place again only to find the door inexplicably locked. Then, in a moment of clarity, I remembered that the address listed on the webpage said Tyndall Ave and, wait a minute, I was on Helen... had the place moved? So the girls and I got back in the car to look for Tyndall Ave. We cruised Tyndall because of course I didn't remember the number portion of the address. Having no luck I called 411, who by the way won't give you addresses, and called the center, found out the the actual address and went two more blocks down the road to the correct location. Once there a really nice passport guy told me that I would need a copy of Patrick's license in addition to his passport because it was his license that he used for the notary. Ahhhhh!
Home again to feed both Evie and the baby and then back out again to catch Patrick at work, get a copy of his license. Fortunately that was relativity painless (once I found a parking space downtown... it only took 10 minutes... which for Tucson is an eon) It was then back to the passport office to drop it off. Whew, only a sum total of 8 plus hours later Isadora's passport application was on its way. Yet another not entirely recommended postpartum activity courtesy of yours truly.
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