Ever since he was little and would throw a fit when he had to stop coloring, I've known that Sam sometimes struggles with transitions.
Now take the word "struggles" and multiply it by a million and you have a glimmer of understanding that you can't multiple words, people.
These days, our biggest problem is peeling him forcibly off of the computer. I always said I wouldn't let the kids have a video game system in the house, and I've held firm on that despite whining.
But then Chris just went and showed the kids they could play games on the computer! Which it turns out is actually awesome when you want them to be quiet for a while.
But every once in a while I look up from laundry or dishes or reading a magazine on the couch and I realize I should probably, you know, parent for a minute. So I force Sam and Owen to stop playing This Very Instant even when Owen tells me they have to "compwete dis wevel."
Dude. If you can't even SAY, "complete this level," you probably shouldn't be completing that level.
When I planned parenthood I believed strongly that I would be a master of providing warnings because I HATED drive-by parenting.
But guys, US Weekly doesn't read itself.
So there is an epic battle with a lot of repeated "I don't WANT to get off the computer!"s and scowl-y eyes and whatnot, and then, five minutes later, he's just noodling around the backyard.
And I want to yell, "SEE. I TOLD YOU SO."
But since playing nicely, unlike playing on the computer, is an easily disturbed activity, I leave it alone.