Grace has an obsession with lip gloss.
She eats it.
I imagine sparkly-brown cappaccino flavored goo oozing down her throat. Yuck. Whatever terrible consequences await Grace's digestive system, the worst part of her fixation goes to the owner of the lip gloss. Thank you, Grace goober. I have pasted slobber all over my lips more than once.
Today I had planned to get a lot of office work done for Brad. I didn't. This is mostly because Grace is not a self-entertainer. One planned hour of computer work usually turns into an entirely unproductive full day. I sit down and Claire cries to be fed (or changed, or held, or burped) and angry Grace pulls on my arm pleading, "Come here, please, come here, mom, watch me throw pecans at the wall!" (or "watch me climb my closet shelves," or "watch me sit on Claire's head!"). Imagine two hours of that. It resulted in three barely-begun business documents.
Eventually I initiated a game that gave me thirty minutes of the children entertaining each other:
Just enough time to get one of those office things checked off my list. Then I joined in.
And to think that I had "bake bread" and "make granola" on my to-do list too.