The Plot Thickens

It's Wednesday. D-Day. Thought you all might like an update on the name-change fiasco.

Last night, as a last-ditch effort to prevent myself from purchasing a new passport, I called Expedia, the T.S.A, and USAirways about the fact that my passport name and ticket name do not exactly match. I was just hanging on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they would tell me that it isn't a very big deal. Expedia agreed to put a notation on my ticket that states that Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan and Katherine Paris Kerrigan are the same person. The gentleman there also gave me the numbers for T.S.A and USAirways.

Calling T.S.A. got me nowhere, as everything was automated. USAirways worked out better, though. After I successfully got the man there to understand my situation (at least I think he did), he said that having my driver's license with my picture and my passport with my picture meant that he could "assure [me] that [I] will not have any problems with [my] flight." I made him repeat that statement about three or four times. Seriously. In the back of my mind, though, I keep thinking that he has no business telling me that, because he has no idea what type of passport/ticket/name Nazis I will encounter at the airport on that fateful day in March. I'm choosing to think of it this way: with the name on my license that matches my ticket, I can at least make it to our first stop in Philadelphia. If problems arise there before I can get to the next stop in London, I'll call my dear friend Ashley's sister and spend the week in Philadelphia. What a fun vacation!

Now, back to today's events. I went to the DMV (or BMV is what it's called here) feeling confident. I have to take a written test to get an Indiana license, and I had studied like the nerd that I am, so I was feeling good about things. The clerk today reacted the same way as the clerk from last Wednesday. "The names don't match. Is this person the same as this person?" I explained my story yet another time. Evidently, the two letters that the social security office had given me as proof that I had done what the BMV required me to do didn't match each other. One said, "This is to prove that Katherine Paris Kerrigan has applied..." The other said "Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan, blah, blah, blah..." After much discussion, I was informed that I had to return once again to the social security office and have them give me another letter, then perhaps wait 24 more hours and return again to the BMV. I almost cried right there.

Then the discussion centered on my proof of residency. I had taken our electric bill as proof of my address. It says, "Gilbert M. Kerrigan and Kate P. Kerrigan." Will Big Brother accept this, the clerks wondered. Surely he'll know that Kate P. Kerrigan is the same as Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan (which has been my thought about the entire fiasco: surely they know that Katherine Paris Kerrigan and Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan are the same person!) On the verge of yelling I said, "There is not an single piece of paper that exists as proof that Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan is a resident of Indiana. I have only been Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan for two days. If you tell me that I must have proof that has that name on it, I won't be able to do it." They finally decided that my electric bill would probably suffice. When I realized that the clerks were only doing their jobs, I calmed down and headed to the social security office one more time.

Wait. Let me pause here to fill you in on the fact that Cole was with a lady from church for a couple of hours so I could go and take my driver's test. So, on top of everything else, I was crunched for time. I wanted to pick Cole up in time to bring him home for his 11:30 nap.

Meanwhile, back at the social security office, my number was 72. I came in as #58 was being called. One entire issue of Better Homes and Gardens later (I even read some articles), my number was called. I explained my situation and the clerk asked what branch of the BMV I had been to. I was then told that the BMV is not supposed to send people to the s.s. office for this reason. Evidently it had been done often enough that the social security office was tired of it, because she made a copy of my paperwork to pass on to her supervisor so he could call the BMV. She corrected my papers and told me that I could go back today to sort things out at the BMV without waiting 24 hours, but by the time I finished there, it was time to pick up Cole.

So, this is where things stand now. I'm taking Cole to stay with the secretaries at church this afternoon at three. (It's a good thing he's so cute. They haven't started to complain about how distracting it is for him to be there. Well, at least not yet.) I'll then make another attempt at getting my license. I'll keep you updated. At this point, the worst that could happen is that I could fail my driver's test.

What a MESS!

By my title, you might guess that I'm talking about my house or my child or something of this sort. Oh, I wish it were a mess like that. Let me just fill you all in on the past week of my life. It all started five years ago... Try to keep up with all this:

I was born Mary Katherine Paris. Beautiful name, huh? I've never really liked Mary by itself. Until I was in sixth grade, I was known as Mary Kate. (I was born before the Olsen twins were thought of, by the way, so no jokes, please.) Then I became too cool to have a double name, so I started going by just Kate. A few people very close to me still call me Mary Kate, like aunts and uncles, cousins, my best friends' parents. The only person who calls me this NOT from my childhood is my father-in-law, and he's sweet enough to call me whatever he wants to. He could call me dork if he wanted to, and I'd still be proud.

Back to the subject. On the other hand, I have always really loved my maiden name. I just think it's pretty cool. So, five years ago, when I became a Kerrigan, I wanted to mix things up a little and drop Mary, make Katherine my first name, Paris my middle name, and Kerrigan my last name. My mom had done the same thing when she got married. I had no idea that this would cause such problems...

When we first married, I went to the social security office and became Katherine Paris Kerrigan, no problem. Then I went to the DMV and discovered that I was not allowed to do that with my driver's license without legally having my name changed, so I became Mary K. Paris-Kerrigan (hyphenated). Fine. The only problems this has caused so far is when my students ask me what my middle name is (I go through the entire spiel, in very Kate-like fashion, because I can't simplify any story) and when I went to vote in the last presidential election. I stood in the A-L line forever (for the "K"), just to learn that I should be in the M-Z line (for the "P"). I would call this a small hassle, but not a very big deal, until last week.

I went to the DMV to have my driver's license changed. When I pulled out all my information, the clerk just stared at it all. "None of this has the same name. Which is correct?" So I go through it all--the birth name, married name, social security name, driver's license name, and so on and so forth. Evidently, it doesn't work that way anymore. Both DMV and Social Security office must have the same information. I was referred to social security to sort things out before I came back to the DMV office. I was irritated, but not overwhelmed--yet.

Today I went to the social security office. Unless I want to legally become Katherine Paris Kerrigan, I will be Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan. So I am. The up-side is that I really like Mary Katherine, because it's pretty and because my dad and granddaddy named me this family name. But I have a whole new last name, as far as I'm concerned. Evidently, this is as far as a lot of people are concerned.

It occurred to me that my passport says Katherine Paris Kerrigan, and I'm going to Italy in March. So I make a trip to the post office after Gilbert purchases plane tickets for Mary Katherine Paris-Kerrigan. The news, in a nut-shell? Looks like I'm paying for a new passport.

I left the post office, called Gilbert, and said, "I'm going somewhere quiet to be by myself." I thought I was going to scream. I was completely overwhelmed. After Barnes and Noble, a caramel macchiato, and an hour of reading a grammar book, I was feeling a little more calm.

I'm going to see what happens with the DMV on Wednesday. I wonder how much mess I will uncover there. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

I'm Dreaming of a White Thanksgiving...

Wanted to share with you all some pictures of our snowy Turkey-day:



Okay, so maybe you wouldn't call it an official "White Thanksgiving," but it did snow throughout the day. I realize you can't actually see the snow in these pictures (this was the hardest snow we had all day), and you all farther South could probably send a few of your own and tell me that you had snow too, and you'd have just as good a case as I have with this evidence, but really. It was snowing. I promise.

We shared the day, happily, with my little sis Emily, who came to represent my family for me as my parents weren't able to make it because of my dad's test on Wednesday. She'll be staying with us for almost a whole week. We are excited to have her. Cole is especially excited and is loving playing with his "Auntie Em."

We shared dinner with new friends from church who invited us and some other friends over. It was nice to be in a busy house instead of in our own rather empty house with no table. It made me truly thankful for some things I don't usually have in the front of my mind on Thanksgiving. In addition to the usual things I consider--family (like sweet Em), shelter, food, and health--I was also thanking God for new friendships and the bond we have as Christians, even when we have only known each other for a short time. How grateful I am to have these new friends, and how lonely I would be to have just moved to this new place if a new church family hadn't come with the package! They are a great comfort to all three of us.

I hope each of you had a wonderful Thanksgiving as well, regardless of the fact that you may not have been able to play in the snow like we did!

Update

My dad is getting ready to leave the hospital now. Everything went well. They found that the artery they were concerned about doesn't have need for immediate attention, so they're sending him home. Thanks so much for the prayers. They worked!

Prayer Request

I've got a prayer that I'd like to request. I got a call from my dad tonight. He's scheduled to have an arteriogram performed on Wednesday morning. This will be the third heart procedure he's had performed. He's had two heart-attacks, both before the age of 50, so this type of procedure, while it is performed frequently without any problem, is not taken lightly by my family. Please keep him in your prayers.

I will be praying that you all will have a happy and blessed Thanksgiving this week. Thank you all so much for your willingness to remember my dad as you celebrate the holiday.

Not for Weenies

Okay. Cue the Bud Light music: "Real American Heroes..." Here's to you, stay at home moms. It's getting the best of me. I feel that my problem is that I'm not used to being home with a little one, and only a little one (no grown-ups). Another problem might be that last time I was in this position I had a fourteen week old. Now I have a fourteen month old. He's a teeny bit more active now than he used to be.

I mean, I love my boy. I don't have to tell you all that, but he's wearing me out. And to those who say that stay at home moms should be responsible for all the housework and should be able to get dinner ready every night, poo on them. By the time Gilbert gets home--wait, by the time lunch time rolls around, the house is wrecked. If I tried to clean it up throughout the day, it would do no good. My best option is to wait until 8, when Cole's in bed, and clean it up then, just like I did when I was working everyday.

Now, since Sandra P. has requested pictures, I thought I'd give you a little slide show of a typical day, just for the sake of humor:


Here's Cole checking out the cabinets. We now have locks on this one.


Helping with the laundry...


Making a Cheerio trail in case he needs a snack later...


Tired of hearing "no" too much... (It is hard being a baby.)


Assisting with meals...


Finally playing with real toys.

But at the end of the day, I've gotta ask...

Who wouldn't LOVE to do what I do with this sweet boy every day?

Origin of a Tag

Because of the short amount of time I've been a blogger (or maybe because I'm not loved), I've never been tagged before. But I have been around the block long enough to know what tagging is, so I'm taking the initiative to start one myself.

The idea to do this is a combination of my desire to start an email questionnaire about being a mommy and my desire to share funny stories about my little mischieveous boy. So, I'm adapting a tag I've seen floating around...Who doesn't like to tell cute stories about their kids? Here are the rules:

1) Each player starts with five random facts/habits/stories about their child(ren).
2) People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their five things) and post these rules.
3) At the end of your blog, you need to choose a few people to get tagged and list their names.
4) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

My Sweet Cole:
1. Cole loves to tickle. He says, "tickle, tickle, tickle" in his own, cute way as he wiggles his fingers. In the last week he's tickled an elder's wife's bare foot and the cable guy while he was working on our computer. Hilarious.

2. His favorite word is "please." (What a mannerly boy.) He signs the word and says either "pea" or "bea." Anytime he wants anything, this is what he does. Lately he finds what he wants and says, "This. Pea."

3. When he sees any type of live animal (I don't mean as opposed to dead. I mean as opposed to in a book), he says, "WHOA! WHOA!"

4. During church on Sunday, we went to first service when they don't have a staffed nursery. I was so pleased at how he was behaving, overall. At one point, though, he laid down in the floor very still. He put his hand up and started playing with the bottom of the pew in front of us. When the lady in front of me turned around and smiled, I remembered that the pew has a gap between the seat and back. He was poking her in the bottom.

5. Since our move, he's been into EVERYTHING. Sometimes he drives me nuts. To make matters worse, our cabinets have no handles, so we can't easily put child locks on them. Although we've put anything harmful out of his reach, he can and does unload all the cabinets whenever he has a chance. Yesterday I heard him banging around in the kitchen. When I checked on him, he had completely unloaded one of the cabinets and had put himself totally inside. Of course, my camera batteries were dead, and by the time I replaced them, he had slithered out.

*Bonus fact! (I just thought of this one, the day after making this post, and I couldn't leave it off.) If the computer "falls asleep," Cole goes over and pushes a key to make it "wake up" so he can see his picture on the wallpaper. After he sees the picture, he walks away and goes on about his business.

Okay. Now your turn. I tag Melissa, Terri, and Ashley.