Tomorrow, I head to Philly to speak at the Type-A Parent Advanced conference. While I’m excited to sit around and geek out about professional blogging, I’m completely freaking out about taking baby D on his first flight.
I’ve been reading a few articles that have been helpful.
There’s just one thing that every single advice column I read left out. One very small but very important thing.
A copy of your child’s birth certificate.
Seems easy, right? Logical, even? Except I didn’t think of this until today – the day before our flight. FAIL.
Even worse is that some time during the whole birthing process, as I was laying in my hospital bed, recovering from my c-section and trying to mentally process the fact that I was now a mom, and also that my baby was currently in the NICU and OMG when is my effing milk going to come in – I didn’t really pay attention when the nurse went over the whole birth certificate, social security card thing. I remember filling out some forms and hearing that things would come in the mail, but that’s about it. Hadn’t thought about it since. Fast forward to today and I found myself wondering where in the world that birth certificate could be. Did we get it in the mail? I don’t remember getting it. Turns out, the state of Missouri doesn’t send you a copy of your child’s birth certificate. If you want a copy, you have to pay for it. What a fucking racket that is! At the advice of a fellow mom, I found out I could get a copy of his birth certificate instantly if I just took my happy ass down to City Hall.
So I did just that. In the middle of a rainstorm. And when I got there, I was told “Cash only.”
IT’S 20-EFFING-13!! Figure out how to accept plastic, state of Missouri!
Obviously, I didn’t have enough cash on me so I had to go back out in the monsoon to my car, find my debit card, and walk to the other side of the building to use their on-site ATM (and pay a nice little fee). THEN I was finally able to get a copy of baby D’s birth certificate. And they gave it to me with a nice white envelope that was too small to hold it, so I had to shield this precious piece of paper with my body to keep it from getting destroyed on the way back to my car. Lovely.
Ok, so back to the point of this post. If you’re planning a flight with baby at any point in your life, get your damn birth certificate. Preferably not during a major thunderstorm, and don’t forget – bring plenty of CASH.
I’ll share more flying with baby tips once I actually figure out what the hell I’m doing.