Man's Best Friend is Now My Worst Enemy

When we had Boris the Beagle I would tell people all of the time how Charles Schulz had to have owned a beagle because of how he captured every aspect of their personality in Snoopy. I told people I could not imagine a dog with more of a personality, that our beagle went through the same emotions as Snoopy (weeping, gloating, laughing) and in similar fashion (always over the top). When we got Otis, our German Shepherd/Lab mix, I imagined he would be sturdy, lovable, and smart. I assumed our overly dramatic doggie days were over, replaced with the sensible sides of both hardworking and intelligent breeds.
Don't get me wrong, Otis is very lovable. He would do anything for his family, play until he dropped dead from exhaustion, and cuddle until he suffocated you. Before and during my pregnancy, he would follow me everywhere to make sure I was safe, wait outside the bathroom door (or on the bath mat if he could break in) while I showered, and sleep at my feet. He was by my side constantly. That was then. Since the birth of Lucy, I admittedly have been less patient with the dog. Overwhelmed by baby duties, the dog's antics have me feeling more smothered than loved. I push him away, scold him more than scratch him, ignore rather than play. It took him three weeks, but now he is onto my routine and I think it is safe to say he is not a fan.
To prove this point he has found a new way to force me to play. When he goes outside, he has decided he is in charge of what he does and when he comes back in. Since our yard is not fenced (this has never been an issue before) he runs over to the neighbor's house and plays with their (poor, unfortunate) fenced creatures by running up and down the length of their caged yard. (The fact that the neighbor dogs wait at the corner of their lot for Otis to come outside does not help either.) He grabs his soccer ball and runs around by himself, rolls in the snow, and chases (and almost catches) squirrels. When I call him to come in, he does not run eagerly to the door as he did a week ago. Instead he plops down in the snow and begins his standoff. The more I call, the less he moves. If I open the door, he stands up and prepares to flee. If step outside, he grabs his ball and tries to entice me into play. When I play, he is happy. If I call him to come in again, we just repeat the process: plop, standoff, play. I find this very tiring, so yesterday I left him outside after the first round. Despite the cold, he sat there in the snow for 45 minutes until Nate got off the bus. Nate called him and he came running (tail wagging) to the door and right in. (How's that for personality?)
Today (as Todd advised), I started the day off being overly affectionate toward him. Lots of love, ear scratching, and belly rubbing. He seems to be very happy with this, however I have yet to let him outside...