Identity Crisis

The first day of our little vacay started out well enough. I mean, who doesn't love flying without their kids? It's almost like a mini-vacation in itself: sleeping, reading, talking to each other, generally relaxing, and even stretching out my legs in the exit row. We land in Seattle, giddy as can be to go hop on our cruise ship, only to learn that we CAN'T get on the ship because we don't have passports or birth certificates. Say what?!? Not only did our travel agent tell us we wouldn't need those documents, but even the pre-cruise booklet didn't inform us that we would HAVE to have a passport to sail. You could see the steam coming out of Stephen's ears as he called all three of our travel agent's lines to yell at her on all three voicemails (she still hasn't called us back, by the way).

With our complaints and protests getting us nowhere, and suddenly aware that about four other couples were facing the same dilemma, we realized we had to get our birth certificates and fast. Do you know where your birth certificate is? Could you have someone else--someone who also happens to be taking care of your two young and demanding children--find it, notarize it, and fax it somewhere within an hour or two? That's exactly what we had to do, or the ship would leave without us. So much for sitting on-deck soaking up some rather uncharacteristic (for September, at least) Seattle sun. Oh, no. The only thing we soaked up was a lot of nasty bus exhaust as we paced around the airport bus terminal for a good three hours, intermittently praying and ranting, hoping we'd be breathing fresh ocean air soon.

Well, you know how this story ends thanks to the spoiler photos below, but let me say it really was a miracle that we made it. My mom just so happened to mail me a copy of my birth certificate maybe six months ago, which I promptly shoved into some random pile on the desk, and I just so happened to stumble upon it a mere two days before the trip. Stephen's was a bigger challenge since his was buried in one of his many, many, many childhood boxes that are stored all over the house. Which box, we had no idea. His mom was ransacking her house in search of a copy but having no luck, so we were ready to send Stephen's dad and the boys downtown in search of the right government office, unsure if they'd even release him a copy, let alone do so with enough time to notarize and fax it to us by 4pm. Can you see why we were a little panicked?

Anyway, we made it. Barely. If you look at the picture of our boarding the ship, you notice all the passengers in their life jackets on the deck. They're having the mandatory safety drill. That's how late we were. Stephen's mom found a copy of the needed BC and his dad had them notarized and faxed in record time. THE FUNNIEST PART of all was how the workers kept asking Stephen his birthday and he kept responding, "Today, actually." Nobody seemed to notice or find humor in the fact that he was desperately searching for his birth certificate on his birthday.

By the time we made it on board, we were hungry and exhausted. Luckily we had come to the right place for eating anytime you feel so inclined and sleeping anytime you feel so inclined. We felt a little bad missing all the first evening festivities... but we figured we'd make up for it in the days to come.