Passport to Hell

I was going to be nice in the title, but it really was hell today.

We've started planning our trip to Cuba in April. I've already received my security clearance packet and papers and will be on a plane headed for Cuba on April 9th. I'll be bringing hubby home for a week and then we the four of us will be heading back to Cuba for the second week of hubby's leave.

The boys, however, need passports. I, being the dim-headed mother that I am, didn't order BBZ's birth certificate after he was born. So, I've been waiting to receive that to get his passport. That finally came on Friday, so today I tried to take good passport photos at home rather than spending $20 at CVS or Walgreens. After several attempts to capture NO shadows behind their heads, I gave up. We headed to Walgreens where some joe schmo took a photo with his little Kodak camera with a white backdrop in from of a refrigerator door. The dude didn't even get down of the boys level so the pictures looked like he was 10 feet tall taking the photos on my 34 inch child. To boost up BBZ a little more, and to keep him still, I had him stand on an upside down shopping basket. He finally captured the right photo, but come to find out later he didn't proportion the size of the boys' heads big enough. And then because he was shooting at eye level, BBZ looks like he has no chin.

Either way, I paid for the darn photos, and headed to the post office, the only one in the area that accepted passport applications. Not thinking passports would be a high commodity in the area, I was not prepared at all. Ok, somewhat, I at least brought a snack and drink for the boys. I get there at 10:30am and the PO box area is full. There is another family there with four children who were already there waiting since 9:30am.

When we finally got to the window, both boys had fallen and hit their heads, were tired, hungry, and just plain done with being there. I totally third that, but alas we needed to finish. Our applications? Were not complete. Apparently, a power of attorney for hubby directly from the government was not good enough unless it specifically stated I could get a passport for my children alone. Because god forbid if I wanted to flee to someplace like, Cuba, with my children. To go see their daddy! Which my application specifically said.

By the end of the stay, which totaled to just under 2 hours, I had accomplished nothing. I was pissed. I contacted daddy and he was able to get the correct form out, but it wouldn't get here for another week.

So I guess I need to do this all over again this week so we can get them in time. This time - I will be prepared in more ways than one.

Previously drafted on February 8, 2011. Finally printed today.

(Not) Dealing with it

As a military wife, I am suppose to be the backbone of the family. I am suppose to be strong, confident, tend to both myself and my children while not complaining one bit that my husband might be some place else warm and defending our country. Even though he might not want - strike that - does not want to be there without his family, I still envy him when both boys start to act up and I feel as though I can barely make it through the rest of the day. But should I really mention this to hubby/Daddy? Nope. I am to remain strong so he can focus and accomplish the task at hand so he can just come home when his time is over.

Since Daddy left for Cuba almost 3 months ago (boy does it seem and how I wish it were longer), LMA has been dealing with Daddy being gone. Or not.

Lately, I've noticed LMA's attention span dwindling. Incident reports are being handed to me on a daily basis, it seems, from his school teacher. Temper tantrums are at an all time high. He's constantly acting as if he is tired, at least that's what he tells me. Some of this has changed, like acting bored, since Pop-pop has arrived last month, but the others are still affecting our daily life. I've even gone so far as to wonder if he is starting to show signs of ADD. But my mother assures me that he is not. He wouldn't be able to sit still for 20 minutes while you read him a or several books, he wouldn't be able to sit still for 20 minutes while he plays with his LEGOS, and so on.

The other day, after waking up at 7am (I know for some that is sleeping in, but for my first born he should really be sleeping in until 8am), I was determined to make him have "quiet time". He of course thinks that includes sleeping, but to me its' just simply "down time". So that's what we are calling it now. He, on the other hand, was determined to fight me the entire way.

We walked, or should I say, I walked with LMA being dragged behind, into his room. I, with book in hand ("How to talk to children and how to listen so children will talk"), sat down in the middle of the room and began to pick out some books for him. He wanted to play. And was completely focused on that and nothing else. When he moved closer to the closed door, I would pulled him back into the room. Finally I sat in front of the door. When he came close again, I grabbed him and gave him the biggest bear hug. This time, I was going to take the squeeze approach to handling this tantrum.

After wriggling what seemed like 5 minutes, I finally began to whisper words in his ear. "Daddy loves you, A. Daddy misses you, A. Mommy loves you, A. Mommy loves you so much."

His reply? "I don't love Daddy. I don't miss Daddy. I don't love you, Mom."

I just kept repeating the words over and over, even though he was still wriggling and yelling "Let me go!" I held tight.

Finally, I asked, "Tell me how you are feeling. Are you mad the Army took Daddy away? Are you sad he's not here? Do you want to draw how you feel? If you were a color, what color would you be right now?" These just happened to be ideas about tantrums in the book that I was able to read while he was trying to sneak out of his room. This caught his attention.

After he finally calmed down and we talked about how he felt, we settled down on his bed to read "The Velveteen Rabbit". If it wasn't for the fact that he had to go pee halfway through the book, I'm fairly certain he would have fallen asleep. Even still, just laying down, listening intently to the story seemed to calm him.

Since then, I'm lost as to how to make his daily life better without Daddy here. I'm determined to have him spend at least 30 minutes in his room reading. It doesn't have to be in his bed, so maybe that will appeal to him. Last night though, while reading the "Parade" magazine from the sunday paper, I found an article about Flat Daddies. The story, about a mother of three who's husband has been deployed several times and has missed all 3 of his three-year-old daughter's birthdays, talked about the adventures with their Flat Daddy. He spends almost every occasion with them even going to Chuck E Cheeses, the mall, birthday parties, and of course, holidays.

This, I decided, is my answer. If I order it this week, we should have a Flat Daddy by Christmas. I was hoping we could get it in time for LMA's birthday party, the week prior which also happens to be Daddy's birthday, but I almost think that Christmas would be even better. Of course, hubby is going to wonder what the hell is going thru my head. I have to hope for the best. If it doesn't work, then maybe it'll help us, not just LMA, remember that Daddy is still a part of this family. Even if he is hundreds of miles away he's still here in our hearts.

Well, that blows.

Due to possible inclement weather tomorrow, the Fall Festival of Lake Ridge is canceled and will not be rescheduled. Bummer.

Do you know how hard I've been working on my presentation? My flyers, over 300 diecuts in 100 baggies to pass out, new business cards, a carnival themed game (guess how many stickers in the jar to win a 25% off coupon), and a framed 12x16 poster propped up with a table easel. I wanted to make a DVD of my layouts instead of bringing all my albums, but I wasn't able to figure out how. Thankfully, I'll be refunded the $20, but still I was really hoping to get at least ONE client out of this event.

Then on top of that, hubby had an interview with a colonel yesterday to prep his application for direct commission (to become an officer). His short story version of how things went, "Get ready to start packing." All that means is that he has a good feeling about the interview and he was told that he could know as early as next week if it's been accepted. From there he still has to go to school (probably January), meaning it could be as late as May next year that we'll be moving to who knows where.

And it's suppose be windy and raining this weekend. Great.

A good word goes a long way

I've learned over the years, either at previous jobs or just in the real world, a little positive reinforcement goes a long way. A recent article in the August Parents magazine stated the same goes for children. Well, yeah. You mean I don't have to yell and scream at my child to get him to do things?? (side note: I don't do this to my child, just to my dog. Unfortunately, I think the child is catching on to this behavior as well.) The key: is the catch them being good and really praise them.

According to Alan E. Kazdin, Ph.D., president of the American Psychological Association, tough-love attitude that so many parents nowadays are taking, is really not all that great for our children. Granted we don't want our children walking all over us. I mean, we are suppose to be the ones calling the shots, not the child. According to this researcher, if you really want your child to behave, you actually need to praise them MORE enthusiastically -- and you can't rely on punishment to fix a discipline problem.

"More enthusiastically." Does that include a marching band and confetti??

"Studies have shown that recognizing good behavior is the only way to teach a child what you want her to do -- and to lock that behavior in." If you instead punish your child for bad behavior- yelling or sending them to "time-out", they might change the ways temporarily. But before you know it, they'll back to the bad behavior.

Recently, hubby and I have been really after Little Man for throwing his food. We've tried every approach. Ignoring. Grabbing his hand and saying "No throwing food." Tapping his hand (this totally back fired when he started slapping his own hand when we turned to look at him when he did throw food). Just plain taking the food away from him and ending the meal. Or any combination of the above mentioned strategies. I read this article and thought we needed to try this approach.

We started last week. We really made sure to watch for signs of him being all done. He's done a great job at telling us "all done", but if hubby and I are having a conversation that, God forbid does not include him, he's quick to start throwing something.

We made sure to start right at breakfast. Fresh day, fresh start. As soon as he said he was done, I made sure to ask him "You sure you all done?" He replied yes, I removed his tray, cleaned his hands and then showed him. "Little Man, look! You didn't throw any food on the floor! What a great job! Thank you so much for not throwing any food!" He looked at me, pointed to the floor, made his "uh oh" sound, and shook his head. "That's right, buddy! Thank you for not throwing your food!"

Again, I did the same things at snack time and at lunch. Yes, we had a little oops here and there, but for the most part, it really worked! By the end of this week, still making sure to praise him with "enthusiasm", he's not throwing his food. I think the biggest part was really paying attention to his cues about when he was done. The hard part though was deciphering when he was saying "I don't think I want to eat what you gave me" versus "I'm full and I'm done."

Let's see if this works. Here's to hoping it lasts more than a week... or a month... or maybe two months.

What a day A had...

I feel like Dr. Seuss writing that title. For those of you who are not familiar, here's a taste:

A is sad.
A has had a bad day.
What a day A had.

Have you ever had one of those days that were so horrible that it completely drained out all of your energy...including the energy you thought you had in reserve? That's the type of day that A has had so far today. Fortunately, he is rejuvenating himself right now with a long nap.

Today was A's 15 month check-up. As some of you mother's out there know, this includes vaccinations. Great. Hubby wasn't able to get the day off because well, he just had a week off. So, A and I drove him to the train station this morning and proceeded to his doctor's appointment. Fortunately, there were TONS of buses and trucks out this morning to keep A entertained in the back seat.

When we get to the doctor's office, 10 minutes early like they request, we proceed to wait 30 minutes before we are called back to get his weigh in. He was not very excited about this at all. In the past, he's been fairly cooperative, but this time he didn't want anything to do with the nurse. Even if she was handing him something that looked cool to play with like her stethoscope. He's continued to grow, by the way, in the 95 percentile for height (34 inches) and about 60 percentile for weight (26 pounds).

Then we had to wait another 20 minutes for the doctor in the room. This was a 9am appointment and there were hardly any other patients in the waiting room when we arrived?!! A finally starts to get comfortable again (eating Cheerios and Goldfish and sipping juice will do that to you apparently) and then the doctor comes in. He obviously didn't want anything to do with her either, but atleast her part is short and sweet.

We head out to the waiting area to be called once again for his vaccines. 45 minutes later, A is getting extremely impatient. Not only did he miss his morning nap, he can't really run around the waiting area even though it is big, but it's crowded by now. My only saving grace is that he loves to look at airplanes now (thanks to his trip to the airport to pick us up) and there are tons of military magazines in the waiting area. I start to get antsy as well and ask a nurse how much longer. Apparently, this sends some sort of red flag off in the back and actually gets the nurses back to work because 5 minutes later we're called.

Now, it's time for vaccines. The nurse proceeds to tell me that 2 of the 3 vaccines are going to be sub-Q or inserted just below the skin. Really?? Then why when she inserted all 3 vaccines did she target every single blood vessel in A's tiny thigh???

Fortunately, these little guys bounce back fast and by the time we are home, he's all right. May be a little sore, but he'll live for right now. As we are walking up to the door, he trips a falls on his knees and hands. Because of the thin pair of pants that he is wearing he scraps both knees. I get him inside, change his diaper and we calm down by watching a little tv (hence why I'm starting to fear that this child will be ADD). I didn't think he would want to sit still for another 20 minutes, but we find something that catches his eye.

Like my mother has found out while watching him, things can change in a split second. One second he's crawling around on the bed to another location, the other he's toppling over the side of the bed. I reach to catch his leg, but it literally slips through my fingers.

Now, not only does A have sore thighs, scrapped knees, and he's exhausted... now he has a bump on his head. It could have been worse... he could have hit his head on the side table when he went over the side backwards.

So, I'm really sorry I didn't share any pics from our marvelous vacation, but I'm just too exhausted myself. Needless to say, we're ordering dinner tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.