Let me first just say that this entry breaks the length rule. But it’s necessary to tell the story properly. The last few months have introduced me to the extreme codependence of my employer. Extended days, working from home and a heightened amount of stress have outlined the last 60 to 90 days. I needed a vacation but it almost didn’t happen.

To bring the reader up to speed, I’m writing this while on vacaton. So everything has worked out. But it wasn’t without a little bit of a challenge. At one point, it really seemed like the universe had given us enough signs to give caution to going on this vacation. Let's talk about the signs and the drama just get to where I'm at right now. Lounging on a couch staring at Blackcomb.

SIGN #1:
Every weekend in July, I tried to take either a Monday or a Friday off to extend my weekend. After all we’re redoing the landscaping in our backyard and I needed to get some shit done before it started raining again. Needless to say, the first sign was that I never got a day off. And more importantly, I actually worked most of those weekends. This trend didn't bode well for getting a complete week off in August.

While my peeps at work were telling me to get away and my friends and family were warning me about my degrading attitude, I still felt the need from my management to nearly call off the vacation. Fortunately, I didn't. But things then got more interesting. Working nonstop limits how much you can prepare for your trip and how much you can session your DH bike given the fact that you’ll be heading to Whistler for some summer shredding. So I didn’t plan for anything except for making sure that our reservations were made at our condo. After all we’re buying the place.

SIGN #2:
Late one night at the end of July, I was sitting and playing a little bit of Lego Harry Potter when my wife came home from her family reunion dance. She had picked up the mail from the mail box and there was a little surprise in it for me. Jury summons for the week we were supposed to be on vacation. Are you kidding me? Not only can I not get a day off but now my government thinks I have civic duty to preempt my escape from the real world.

SIGN #3:
The Saturday before we needed to leave, we needed to gather up all of our international travel documents and pack our shit. That morning I pulled out the boys’ birth certificates and our passports. For some unknown reason, I opened them and took a peak. What the hell? They are both expired. Mine in April and my wife's in August. For a quick moment, I thought about just going and saying fuck it. But realistically I better try and fix this. Getting to fix an expired passport on a Saturday is a pain in the ass.

SIGN #4:
I found three companies that can expedite the process. I called all three. Two were closed and the third said if I could get my paperwork in by 1pm (it was currently 8am) they could have the new passports to us by Tuesday. Good plan in theory, but let's talk about the price of such a service. One day turnaround around was $299 per passport + $110 for the passport + $60 for the State Department to expedite the process. $470 per passport just to get them by Tuesday. It really started to look like we weren't going to go.

SIGN #5:
So we started thinking about alternative plans. We could get an enhanced drivers license. The DOL opened at 8:30am so we rushed to get out of the house and down to the local office. We got there and were greeted with approximately an hour wait. Finally our numbers were called and we stepped up to the desk. The whole process of getting an EDL is two phases. After an hour wait, we filled out paperwork, then waited another hour to finalize the paperwork and get our picture taken. The moment of truth was upon us, after we had our picture taken, we were handed our temporary paper EDLs and a punched WA DL. Then we were told that the temporary EDL couldn’t be used to cross the border.

SIGN #6:
We just wasted over two hours in our schedule and didn’t fix our travel dilemma. We knew that we still needed to renew our passports so it made sense to at least get our new passport pictures whether we expedited things or not. Secretly, I was really leaning toward doing it. I wanted this vacation. But after the DOL, we were pinched for time. The UPS store could help us with the pictures. We headed there and get our pictures taken. We waited for them print and were struck by another sign. My wife's printed but then the store ran out of photo paper and couldn't print mine.

SIGN #7:
The UPS store told us Walgreens across the street could help us. Over to Walgreens. We joked that if there was one more sign, we have to believe it wasn't meant to be. Walking in to the photo department of Walgreens there was an employee cussing and hitting a photo machine. We thought it would be funny if it was the machine that printed passport photos. It was. Needless to say, we eventually got my passport pictures and headed on our way. This last sign put us past the 1pm deadline and we began to believe that the trip wasn't going to happen.

There was still one last thing to do. Call the border. I wanted to be sure that we could or couldn't get into Canada and then return to the US with the cornucopia of documents. Believe it or not, we were able to get a hold of US Customs. Two officers confirmed that if we could prove our citizenship, there’d be no way they’d refuse us entry into our homeland. We felt like we had enough and the officers agreed. Now to call Canada. Go figure, we found only one number for Canada and they were closed on Saturday. So we called US Customs again and asked if they had a phone number for their counter pas. Interestingly, the officer said that Canada wouldn't care and to go for it.

Not strong enough of an answer. My in-laws were in Canada during this. Out of support, they asked the front desk of the hotel about required documents. The front desk said a passport was required to enter and exit Canada. This was consistent with the WHTI. But they weren’t done there. They also asked Canadian customs. It was determined that to enter Canada, as a US citizen, you only need a birth certificate and a picture ID to get in. But it really comes down to individual border officers and their attitude. Catch one on a bad day and you could be stuck.

SIGN #8:
So really, it came down to a gut check. Do we feel comfortable loading everything up, heading to the border, and tempting fate for an answer? It had seemed that the universe didn't want us to go. We slept on it and intended on getting up on Sunday morning and making a decision. Well I got up, everyone else slept in. At about 9am after counsel from a friend and then from my mother, it seemed like I needed one more sign and that could only be read at the Canadian border. So we loaded up and left three hours later than I had hoped.

With the all ready heightened level of anxiety about the impending lack of appropriate paperwork and the overall anticipation of an awkward border conversation, we encounter a wicked web of traffic in both the Renton and Everett areas which bring our trip to an abrupt halt. Is this traffic jam another sign that we are choosing to avoid? We acknowledge it and patiently move on knowing that the true test of the conviction of the universe and its animosity toward our vacation waits only miles away.

When we got to the border we realized that the entire state of Washington was there too. And apparently, all of these drivers want to be in my lane. So there we are, waiting to plead our case with a Canadian border agent with expired and temporary documentation, unwillingly letting people pull in front of us due to their lack of driving skill, and secretly hoping for approved passage into the Great White North.

The suspense of waiting while talking to the border agent was petrifying. But after a few simple questions about firearms and pepper spray, we moved on into Canada. We made it. So tempting fate and taking the 150 mile leap of faith for possible disappointment and the potential unfortunate chance of being Debby downer and becoming an absolute ass to my family if this would have been an unsuccessful journey was worth it.

We kept on driving and eventually made it in decent time considering our late start. We only had one melt down by Son #2 as well. About 25 km from whistler (keeping it metric because we're in Canada) he just lost it. He was done with driving and wanted out of the car. Needless to say it was the longest and loudest 25 km of my life.

The whole process made picking up our condo keys that much more meaningful. The literal and figurative journeys were full of land mines and potential disappointments. Apparently, you got to work for what you want even when all signs would indicate disappointment. That's not to say this works in all situations. But I will say that I’m glad we stuck with it and took the chance.

The next big challenge is leaving the peace of this place and journeying back to the US border. Without proper documentation, who knows what can happen. We could be trapped here. I guess I better get a Canadian tuxedo so I can fit in.

UPDATE:
After an uneventful southbound trip to the US Border, we were greeted with only a 60 minute wait. In actuality, we hit the border at the right time by chance. Additionally, we hit the correct lane for coming back too. The US Border officer was pleasant and let us through despite our expired passports and temporary driver’s licenses. She actually said, “Welcome home” as we passed through. Despite all of the signs which appeared to be negative, we were able to have our vacation, I shredded the mountain, and we were able to get back to our homeland with no stress and anxiety; all with the incorrect paperwork. Here’s to breaking the rules and taking chances.

What I’m learning while busy performing superhero-like airframe saving activities is that if I don’t shoehorn my vacation into the corporate schedule, I’ll never get a moment to enjoy my summer, or even wipe my own ass. Over the last month or two, I’ve squinted more due to the screen of my laptop more than the glare of the summer sun. All that being said, I forced the hand of the Man and took time off to spend the day with my children.

With my wife out of town, I relied on my parents to cover for me while I was shackled to my desk. However, I was able to get Friday off from the office. I had big plans for the boys and me. We never really get that uninterrupted alone time to be together. Some of it is that we typically do functions as a family unit, I’m generally overworked, and Son #2 is a chore to take out in public when he’s awake.

On Thursday, I had the honor of waiting until about midnight until I fully knew I had Friday off. Fortunately, things lined up and I was able to spend some absolutely great time with my two sons. Good thing too because I had all ready thrown down the opportunity to my oldest son to go to the Museum of Flight. As I loaded both boys in my car that morning, I worried about the youngest because this could have been on hell of challenge if he made his mind up that this wasn’t where he wanted to be.

I packed the stroller for Son #2 because it effectively works as a wheeled personal immobilization device. I could keep him contained if shit got crazy. Both boys, especially Son #1 were in awe over all of the aircraft in the museum. Son #2 was even let out of his containment device to climb on aircraft and spread his proverbial wings. We had a blast checking everything out. Son #1 really liked the WWI aircraft and the children’s section where he could fold paper airplanes. Both kids really enjoyed the experience so much that they were bummed when I suggested we leave. I could sense the fatigue in them and to avoid a cosmic meltdown, I suggested we go to the gift shop and then on the lunch.

The gift shop only cost me two die cast aircraft, an AA DC-10 and the Space Shuttle. The lunchtime decision from Son #2 was for chocky milkshakes at McDonald’s. Of course, I’m very focused on nutrition so I made sure these shakes were complemented with French fries and chicken nuggets in all of their deep fried goodness. We opted to transit through the drive thru and head back to the grandparents’ house. To this point, everything was great. Obedient and content kids. A patient father. As we approached the point of ordering, I made one request of them, “Don’t get into combat in my backseat when we have to order. I want to be able to order without the threat of nuclear war.”


Consider that last sentence in to foreshadowing of what happened next. No sooner did the drive thru jockey say ‘Welcome to McDonald’s’ when Son #2 let out a blood curdling scream. I was sure Son #1 did something to him so they both got a love tap. So I ordered lunch for us all but couldn’t hear one word that the dude on the other end of the intercom said. To make matters just a little bit worse, I told Son #1 since he made his younger brother scream, that he wouldn’t receive lunch. I suppose that didn’t help the moment. Ultimately, we all calmed down and drank our milkshakes and ate our French fries.

On to the next day, where we had a lesson on how to pour a new concrete slab for the patio in the backyard. Both boys contributed by staying out of the way and not stepping in the wet concrete. The only moment where there could have been an emergency room trip is when Son #2 decided to hang on the side of the wheel barrow full of rock which caused it to tip. As it tumbled over, we had a near miss of the little boy. The whole experience scared the shit out of him but we had no casualties.

Later that night, the three of us hopped up on the couch and watched a bike movie. I’m always blown away by how intensely they watch my bike movies. As we watched, we talked about our upcoming vacation to Whistler. It’s a week away and we’re all really excited. Especially me. Son #1 is counting down the days just like me now. And as predictable as rain in Seattle, Son #1 was hungry. When asked what he’d like to have for dinner, he emphatically answered, “TOSTADAS!”


Even Son #2 was on board too and excited for tostadas. Over dinner, we talked more about the upcoming vacation. But the real conversation revolved around how we really love tostadas and these were the ‘best’ we ever ate. Because they were so good, the conversation took a turn to how many tostadas either of us could eat. While Son #1 never explicitly declared a quantity, he made work of about six Son #1-sized tostadas. Not bad work. Because of his championship eating pedigree, he chose to challenge me. As I walked back in to the kitchen to prepare another for myself, Son #1 stepped up his game and told me that there was no way I could eat ‘infinity and beyond’ tostadas.

That sounds like a challenge. But little did he know that despite his overzealous challenge to his old man, he didn’t clarify a time to achieve such a lofty milestone. I’ll hit that mark, even if it takes forever.

It was a great weekend with my boys. It’s hard to be a working dad and have the energy to pull off fun and guidance when you’re buried in your day to day work. You bring that stress home and it consumes you to a point where you are nearly blind to the subtleties of life’s little miracles. I was lucky this weekend to impede my obsession with monitoring my work. I focused solely on them. And the one thing I noticed over the past days was that Son #1 monitors me, my actions, what I say, what I do, and where I am. He’s getting to be a little boy that needs more of ‘me’ in his life. And while I’m always here and around him, it’s more about the guidance and confidence a father can give a son. He’s much more in tune with who I am these days. That being said, it made it even more powerful to be with him this weekend and have so much fun.