Bureau-crazy

I'm going through the process of renewing my (um...expired) passport and because I'm still an Indian citizen, I've had the joy of going through the Indian consulate. That process has gone something like this:

1. Locate all necessary documents. This is like a little treasure hunt. The links to most of the documents are either missing or broken. Several of the documents are referenced in a rather off-hand way, but no mention is made of where one might find such a document. In one case, a document is called "Thai passport checklist." You are not applying for a Thai passport, but since it's included in the list of required documents, you fill it out anyway.

2. Fill out two pages of an application online. Print. Fill the rest out by hand. (For what reason?)

3. Include 11 copies of a passport photo. (Each order of passport pictures comes with two pictures. For $12. I'll let you do the math on that one.)

4. Include a notarized copy of every identifying document you have. Every single one. Oh, and while you're at it, include copies of your spouse's identifying documents, too. (Have you ever asked someone to notarize a copy of your mortgage bill? They look at you like you've lost your everloving mind.)

5. Fill out the same form eight times, by hand. (This serves as punishment for letting your passport expire in the first place, I suppose.)

6. Go to Walgreens and ask them to take a passport photo of you AND your spouse together. (They will also look at you like you've lost your mind. Because let's think about this for a minute. If you already have a notarized copy of our marriage certificate AND notarized copies of the spouse's identifying documents, then what exactly does a joint picture prove?)

7. Fill out an online order form for the passport. But before you can do that, you need a tracking number for your package. Oh, but you can't mail your package before you do the order form because after you fill out the order form, they email you a receipt and that receipt has to be included with your package. That was a fun puzzle to solve! (If you ever find yourself in this ridiculous situation, the answer is that you have to register online with a delivery company and create a shipment and print out the shipping labels and tracking information and then fill out the order form for the passport and then put everything together, go to the delivery company, buy an envelope, affix the shipping labels you printed out at home, and then send it out.)

8. Four days later, get a phone call from a very harried young man telling you that you forgot to sign things twice. I was under the impression that since I was signing every page of paper in front of me, that would be enough. I was incorrect. I needed to sign some of those pieces of paper TWICE. On two signature lines that were right beside each other. Sure. Makes complete sense.

9. The now double-signed papers need to be notarized, of course. Except the phone call came at 5 pm on a Friday. Banks are closed on Saturday and Sunday and even Monday, if that Monday happens to be a national holiday. Luckily, UPS has a notary on staff. Huzzah!

10. Pay extra for the service of having the package delivered within 18 hours. (Did you even know you could do such a thing? I had no idea!) Because the harried man promised that he would hold your package "for a few days," but you have no idea what will happen at the end of those few days or whether he's counting calendar days or business days or even how many days count as "a few."

11. Wait. And hope. And pray. (My biggest hope at the moment is that they will put my name on my passport rather than McMoose's name. The harried man seemed very confused by the prospect of a passport with a first, middle, and last name. Furthermore, he offered to put McMoose's name on there and when I said that would not work for the purposes of, oh, traveling anywhere, he seemed confused as to why not.)

What Weston Wants, Part 2

The other day, I was cleaning the bathroom while McMoose was getting Weston ready for bed. Weston kept asking me to do things for him--help with his pajama's, put on his lotion, etc--and I kept replying that I couldn't because I was cleaning, but that McMoose could help. It was a bit of a ploy on my part because over the past few weeks, he has become much more resistant to McMoose helping him with anything and we're trying to ease McMoose back into place as the person who takes care of all baths and putting-to-bed.

I finished up with the cleaning just as McMoose and Weston finished reading their second bedtime book.

Weston, speaking to McMoose: I want you read this one now.
McMoose: No, we already read two. We're all done now.
Weston: Mama, what are you doing?
Me: Putting things away.
Weston: Are you done cleaning?
Me, preoccupied with putting everything back: Yes.
Weston: You done cleaning the bathroom?
Me: Yes, Weston.
Weston: You done cleaning the shower?
Me: Yes.
Weston: ...Then you can read me a book now!

What Weston Wants, Part 1

Wednesdays are kid's nights at a nearby Mexican restaurant and they have a magician who comes around to each table and does a few tricks and makes the kids (and sometimes, the adults) a balloon animal. It had been a while since we had been there, so we decided to go tonight. Throughout the meal, Weston insisted on sharing with me...

Weston, holding out a half-eaten chip: Here, Mama.
Me: Huh, you know, you can eat that. I'll just get another out of the basket.
Weston, still holding out the half-eaten chip: HERE, MAMA.
Me: Fine, I'll take it. Thank you.
Weston, grinning: I shared a chip with Mama!

That scene repeated itself with several more chips and a french fry. And then, his true purpose was revealed...

(For reference, my "meal" consisted of an enormous bowl of bean and cheese dip because it is amazing and I did not want anything else to take up room in my stomach and prevent the eating of more dip. Therefore, I fully intended on eating every bit of the dip myself without help from McMoose or the kids.)
Weston: Can I have some dip?
Me: This is my dinner. You may eat your dinner instead.
Weston: No, Mama. We share. It nice to share.
Me: ..............FINE. We share.

Many Questions, Few Answers

The last time we took an animal to the vet, it was to have him put down and Weston is halfway convinced that The Dog is still living at the vet's office. So when I made an appointment to take the cats in for their annual visit and shots, I decided it would be a good idea to explain to both of them exactly why we were going and what was going to happen and especially to reassure Luke, who has recently taken a great liking to Yellow Cat, that the cats will indeed be returning home with us.

Luke: But why do they need shots?
Me: Because shots help keep them from getting sick.
Luke: That makes no sense to me. How do shots do that?
Me: They have dead viruses in them and the dead viruses can't make us sick because they're dead, but they let our immune system see what that kind of virus looks like and then, our immune system can make antibodies.
Luke: Make what?
Me: Antibodies are...things that help us fight off viruses. Like little soldiers that live in our body and kill viruses that come in. But each virus needs a different antibody, so that's why we need different shots.
Luke: Ok, but how does the antibody know which virus to kill?
Me: It can only kill the one it fits. Think of a jigsaw puzzle. You know how you have to get the pieces in just the right spot or they don't fit? Well, your body has to have just the right antibody to fit the virus that comes in.
Luke: But how does the antibody kill the virus?
Me: Hm...maybe...I guess...Um...It just...Uh...That's a very good question.


We were later discussing which of our electronics are battery-operated and which ones have to plug into an outlet.

Luke: But all things that do something have batteries.
Me: Not necessarily. Some get their power to do things from batteries, but others get their power by being plugged into an outlet.
Luke: What's power?
Me: Power is...being able to do something, some work.
Luke: But how does a battery make the power?
Me: It...there's a circuit...and...an anode...and...I have no idea how to explain this to you.


And a couple of days later, we were discussing tornadoes.

Luke: Dada said a tornado could pick up a house.
Me: Uh-huh.
Luke: And probably a car.
Me: Uh-huh.
Luke: How does a tornado pick things up?
Me: Because it has really strong winds.
Luke: But really strong winds blow things down. How would it pick things up?
Me: Because...um, the winds go in a circle...and there's an updraft...which I guess is a wind that goes up.
Luke: When there's a circle of water in the drain, it still goes down, so it would be a down draft.
Me: Yeah, I know. I don't know. Maybe we should read more about tornadoes.


And another day, we were talking about the gates at the railroad crossing.
Luke: What if there was a crossing with no gates?
Me: Drivers would have to check the tracks to make sure that no trains are coming before going across them, just like we check to make sure that no cars are coming before we walk across the road.
Luke: What if you check the tracks and no trains are coming and you start to go across and then the motor in your car stops working?
Me: Stops working while you're still on the tracks?
Luke: Yeah. What would you do then?
Me: You would get out of the car and help get all the other people and animals out of the car and you would move away from the car, just in case a train comes.
Luke: Then what?
Me: I guess you'd call someone to let them know that your car is stuck on the tracks so they could get a message to the train engineers to let them know they have to stop.
Luke: Call who?
Me: ...911, maybe? 911 is usually the number you call for emergencies.
Luke: And what would you tell them?
Me: That your car was stuck on the tracks and that you need help.
Luke: What if there was more than one railroad crossing? How would they know which train to stop?
Me: You'd tell them which road you were on, I guess. Or tell them the things that were around you, like stores or gas stations.
Luke: What if there were no buildings and no people and you didn't even know the name of the road?
Me: ...I don't know.
Luke: I think this would be something important to know about, don't you?


The phrase, "Let's get a book about that the next time we go to the library," has been uttered on a near-daily basis around here recently.

Interior Decorating

This is Luke's preferred way of decorating the house. Some day, when the kids are grown, I'll miss having pages of stick figures and stickers hanging by pipe cleaners from our doorknobs.

Insomnia

Thought process at 9 pm: The bed is so soft and warm...maybe I'll just lie here with Weston while he falls asleep. I'm sure it'll just take a few minutes.

Thought process at midnight: Huh. I fell asleep. In my jeans. With my contacts still in. And the light on. I have to get up and get ready for bed, but I'm so tired that I bet I'll have no problem falling back asleep.

Thought process at 3:53 am: Why am I still awaaaaaaaaake?!?

Protecting Peace

The most peaceful moments I've ever experienced have involved trudging through newly fallen snow that came up to my shins. Cold and wet and shivering, I'd get to a wide open space and stop, watching the puffs of my own breath, listening to the muffled sounds of the far-off world.

Winter in Raleigh does not involve that kind of snow. My current life does not involve that kind of silence. My soul craves that kind of peace.

January is my very least favorite month, followed closely by February. Too little light, too much scraping ice off the windshield. (Every time I scrape ice, I feel annoyed that it isn't snow. There is just no upside to ice.) Each January, I slip farther into...I am loathe to call it seasonal depression because that seems too forceful a term...perhaps seasonal apathy. I have no preferences. I have no opinions. Everything seems to take more energy than I care to expend. Maybe it's my version of hibernation because I'd just as well huddle into a blanket and stay there until the world goes green again.

But this past year, October was hard and November was long and the early part of December involved a lot of apathy. It simply could not continue for two more months. And so this year, I'm not waiting for happiness. In fact, I'm not even seeking happiness. I'm seeking peace. Contentment. Calm. I'm putting myself in a bubble that involves less reading of the news, less scrolling through facebook while feeling guilty about wasting time, less television. More music that feeds my soul, more exercise that wakes my body, more time being present in my life instead of racing on to check off the next item on my to-do list. This time, I'm not waiting to stumble upon a snow-covered field and find peace. I'm searching it out, cultivating it, cupping my hand around its flickering flame and protecting it from the January winds.