We almost didn't make it!

It was the day of our departure, January 4, 2012 at 10am.  Mark and I were packing and tidying with the whole day to plan and organize.  While packing his carry-on backpack Mark asks a very simple question, “Steph, where are the passports and do you want them in your backpack, or do you want me to take them?”  A wave of heat ran through my body.  I’ve never felt so desperate in my life, because in that instant I realized our passports were on a ship on their way to Australia.  I LOST my shit!  I had forgotten to pull out the passports when the movers came to pack our house.  The amazing thing is, they never crossed my mind before that moment!  I even had an email exchange with one of the relocation people about our Australian visas and she mentioned they should be in our passports and STILL, I never thought about where our passports were!  I pulled out operating manuals on items I gave to friends like our vacuum cleaner and tea kettle, but I forgot the fucking passports!  

Needless to say, a frenzy began.  Mark called United and they basically said, “You’re screwed dude.”  I got on the phone with the passport agency, and they basically said, “You’re screwed lady.”  In order to apply for new passports we needed our birth certificates.  And the kicker was that our birth certificates and everything of importance was in the same file in my desk on a ship to Australia!  I could have gotten the boys’ certificates that day, but mine would have taken a week, and Mark’s, well, that would have been close to impossible since he was born in some tiny, crazy town in South Africa called Nababeep!  At this point I went into our bedroom, climbed in bed, put the sheets over my head, curled up into the fetal position, and wailed.  It was not good!  

Then Mark got on the phone with the lawyers at Salesforce and they gave him some good info, basically, show up at the passport agency in San Francisco with new passport pictures and beg.  Mark made an emergency appt with the passport agency for 12:30, it was 11:40.  We had one hour to get new passport pictures taken, fill out all the necessary documents, and get to the city.  I rushed to put the car seats in the car we borrowed from my friend Elizabeth’s husband – since we had already sold both of our cars!  We then jumped in the car and realized we didn't have the car key.  Reid had been playing with the car key and we couldn’t find it!  It took us about 15 minutes to find the key – it felt like an hour – and then we zoomed off to the Kinko’s store in Sausalito to get passport pictures taken.  It was 11:45 when we pulled out of the driveway.  The picture taking process was relatively simple, except that we couldn't get Reid to look at the camera and I looked forlorn, depressed, and plain horrible in my picture.  At 12:17 we were back in the car ready to head to the city.  Elizabeth printed out all the necessary application documents, brought them to us in Sausalito as we were pulling out of the Kinko's parking lot.  Mark drove like a bat out of hell as I filled out the documents trying not to throw up.  


When we arrived at the passport agency Mark dropped me off while he parked the car and brought the boys in.  I rushed inside sweaty, not having showered that day, and desperate.  While going through the metal detector the security guard looked at me and said, "It's okay, everything will be okay."  I wanted to kill him, but instead I said, "Thanks," and started to weep.  My hands were shaking as I approached the appointment window.  We were 20 minutes late and I knew I needed to kiss this guy's ass, as he held the key to our future trip to Oz.  His name was Bruce.  He was a short, skinny elderly guy with long fingernails and a gray ponytail.  I explained the situation and he just shook his head and said, "Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost you?"  I said, "I don't care, please help us."  He nodded.  I shakily handed him a mountain of incomplete paperwork, our drivers licenses', and our itinerary - that's it.  Mark arrived and he sent us to another area to finish filling out the paperwork.  In all of the madness I thankfully remembered to bring the iPad to distract the boys from the chaos.  They were as happy as clams.  We stuck them underneath the counter we were writing on and they watched Caillou.  Oh Caillou, how I hate that bald kid, but at that moment he was my best friend.  


We brought the paperwork back to Bruce and he gave us a number and said, "When this number comes up go to the window it tells you to."  No emotion, no, "You guys are dumb," just a blank stare.  When our number appeared we quickly made our way over to the window where behind the glass sat Liu, a middle-aged Asian man who definitely held more of our Oz future in his hands.  We presented him with our pile and he was expressionless.  All I could think about was oh please Mark don't piss him off!  He explained the process was going to be expensive because he had to do background checks on all of us.  What this meant I will never know, but he typed away in his computer as our hearts pounded.  He began with my application.  After about 10 minutes he said, "Stephanie, your application is accepted and I can issue you a passport today by 3:30."  What a fucking relief, but we had to wait to see if the other applications were approved.  One by one, all of our applications were approved and we would all have passports by 3:30.  We only had to pay a nominal fee of $1396!  We handed him our credit card and took a huge sigh of relief.  It was 2:00.  We slowly left the passport agency, got some lunch, and anxiously awaited for 3:30.            


At 3:45 we had the passports in hand.  We raced home to finish packing, purging, and cleaning.  Eleanor, Elizabeth, and Bobbi came over to help us clean, pack, and play with the boys.  By 7pm we were on our way to the airport.  

When we arrived at the airport with our 18 pieces of luggage, 11 bags to check and 7 carry-ons we had one last hiccup in our way; our Australian visas were tied to our old passports.  The United check-in women were so kind and got on the horn with Australia and worked everything out for us.  We were in the clear with boarding passes in hand.  


The moral of the story is, be like Sandra Bullock in the movie "While you were Sleeping," and carry your passport with you at all times!