A few weeks ago, my husband started working 12-hour overnight shifts -- 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. -- seven days a week at TMI. The job lasts only until Dec. 26, thank goodness, but we pretty much aren't going to see him until then.
This means I've had to drastically rearrange my work schedule, which is usually 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Monday-Thursday and 3 p.m. to 1 a.m. Sundays.
First, ain't nobody gonna babysit my kids until 2 a.m. Monday morning.
Second, ain't no way I'm gonna try to leave my kids with the sitter -- even if I could -- until 7:45 or 8 p.m. during the week.
So this means our lives and routines have been drastically altered.
And this, my friends, is something Samantha does not like.
She's most defiant in the evening, after I pick her and Noah up. She simply disagrees with or argues about anything I say.
Me: "What do you want for dinner?"
Sam: "Aw, Mom, can't I just have a snack?"
Me: "Come over to the table, please. It's time to do your homework."
Sam (after 10 seconds of silence and my repeating myself twice): "Huh? I don't have any homework. Oh, wait, right, I do, but I don't wanna do it now."
Me: "Okey-dokey, kiddos, it's time to go get in the bathtub."
Sam: "Mom, can you wash me first and do Noah second? Cuz I hate staying in the tub and getting all cold. And -- hey, it's not even my bedtime yet! It's only 7:47! I don't go to bed until 8:30! Can we play a game of Chutes and Ladders first? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease??"
And then there's the baby voice and the baby talk. I hate the baby voice and the baby talk. I've tried ignoring it, figuring the official advice I've read will be right and she'll just get tired of doing it when she realizes it doesn't get her what she wants.
So far, no luck.
I must say, "Sam, talk like a 6-year-old" and "I can't understand you when you talk baby talk" at least 100 times in 3 hours.
Finally, two nights ago, I asked her what was up.
Me: "I'd really like us to have nice, calm, fun nights when we get home, Sam, without any whining or disagreeing. Doesn't that sound good?"
Sam: "Yeah."
Me: "Then why do you argue so much with me and ignore what I tell you to do? And why do you keep talking in a baby voice when I've told you to stop over and over again?"
Sam: "Well, it's just because I want some loving."
Me: "I'd like to be giving you more loving, Sam, but I can't do that when I have to spend so much time arguing with you --"
Sam (interrupting): "Actually, it's just because I want some attention."
And there it was. The thing child psychologists always say kids want, regardless of whether it's negative or positive: attention.
I sat back that night after bedtime, and I thought about it. She's right. I've been paying lots of attention to Noah, who's in an extra-adorable stage right now (OK, when isn't he in an adorable stage?) and who runs over to me every few minutes for big hugs and kisses.
Sam doesn't do that. But she does come pester me just about as often, which I neglected to realize was the 6-year-old's version of what Noah's doing.
Last night, I tried harder. I snagged her and smooched her more, I snuck in hugs when she least expected them. It wasn't a much easier night -- I still had to defend my ruling that cheese balls are NOT an acceptable dinner food -- but it went a tad more smoothly.
And about the time we get this routine down pat, it'll all change again.
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