Fighting for attention

August 14, 10:28 AMParenting Humor ExaminerAnnette van de Kamp

There are 1440 minutes in one day. Yet, when you actually try to take that shower, one of your kids finds it necessary to flush the toilet. Your two-minute shower turns into a three-and-half minute ordeal, because you stand plastered in the furthest corner trying not to get scalded. Three-and-a-half minutes: long enough for one bloody nose, one abused cat, and two glasses of spilled lemonade. It is amazing what you can cram into a mere moment when you’re four and seven years old.

Maybe I should have titled this article “losing it”, but that reminds me too much of those pesky spams I find in my inbox, you know: the Gillian Michaels’ ones that tell us we can and should work out. As if we have time for that.

It’s a well-known fact: Kids don’t like to share. Who knew that also applied to you? Isn’t it only supposed to be true for toys? Children want you to pour them juice when you’re in the middle of a phone call. They want to put on an impromptu play while you’re trying to compose a particularly difficult email. They insist they need a band-aid for a non-existent wound while you’re trying to scrub the floor, do the dishes, are standing on a ladder to change a light bulb. You name it, they will interrupt it.

Some exceptionally troublesome children (mine) even go so far as to want to talk to you while you’re in the bathroom. No wonder; you’re sitting down and you can’t go anywhere.

Since my children aren’t exactly challenged in the verbal department, they mostly demand my attention through “Mom, fill in the blank” statements.
Examples:
1. Mom, can I have more juice? (Right as I sit down at the dinner table and am trying to take my first bite).
2. Mom, Mendel kicked me (While I am on the phone)
3. Mom, I need to go to the bathroom (When we’re in the middle of traffic)
4. Mom, can I watch TV? (One minute before the evening news)
5. Mom, my zipper is stuck. (Just when you start the lawnmower)

My children have no excuse for it, but I swear: they will patiently wait until I am in the middle of something, and then they attack.

I’ve tried using these moments as teaching opportunities. “Honey,” I will say to my daughter, “you can get your own ketchup. I just spend an hour cooking dinner, setting it on the table, and I would like to actually eat this food. Is that okay?” Usually I follow this up with a meaningful glare at my husband, who is never asked for anything while he eats. This might have something to do with the fact that he has mastered the art of ignoring pointless requests. A useful thing, that; maybe I should take some lessons from him.

Of course, you can get back at them using the same technique: just try to tell them it is bedtime when they are in the middle of something really important. Enjoy the meltdown.