The Hardest Thing in the World

The last few months have been difficult. I have been trying so hard to achieve my goal, and yet it seems that for every step forward there are two steps back. I never knew it would be this hard. 

To apply for two bleedin’ passports!

If I die in the next few weeks, my cause of death will be Extreme Frustration secondary to Acute Passport Application Syndrome. 

So I got the forms. Then I filled them in in blue pen. WRONG. Black pen.

Fine. New forms. Black pen.

I search my photos for one of the baby from when she used to sit still for longer than five seconds. And then find one with her eyes open, her mouth closed and looking at the camera. 

I try to get the four year old to pose with his eyes open and his mouth closed. I make the mistake of giving him these instructions. I end up with many many photos of him with his eyes closed and his mouth open.  

I use epassportphoto.com to get the photos in the official dimensions and send them off for printing. They come back 10 days later. They are not in the official dimensions. I send them off again. The photo service that usually takes 2 days is on an unprecedented go-slow. The revised photos return 18 days later. Still wrong. 

Four year old goes to chemist to get proper photo taken. Baby’s ones will have to do.

We all troop into the garda station after a day in town. I have failed to bring the birth cert and parents’ IDs. We get the boy’s one signed but will have to return with the baby. 

I get my friendly GP to fill the witness bit. Made an embarrassing and potentially Medical Council-inciting mistake with this bit before, so am very careful about it. 

I now have a special folder with all the necessary forms, photos and passports in it. I am on top of this.

Set off with baby to finally get this thing done. Turn back because I have forgotten the birth cert again. 

Go to different garda station. It’s closed. So this is what all the headlines are about. 

Go back to the first place. Carry baby and folder and bag. Sit patiently while a man finds out when his driving ban is due to finish. (Requiring a copper to count six months for you is a bad sign I would think). I am cool and calm because now I know I have everything I need. 

I don’t. The parents’ passports are not in the special folder. And two of the boy’s photos are missing. Nice female guard offers to hold baby while I go search the car. Baby freaks out. I lug baby back to the car. No sign of anything there.  Lug baby back to nice female guard. She signs the form and the photos and is warm and kind. Thank you nice female guard.

So where the f&^* are the other two passports? Has some terrorist nicked them and is going to use our identities to take over the world? 

I couldn’t care less. 

I just really really REALLY do not want to have to apply for two more passports.