Sometimes I climb over the gate and hop downstairs to "check the laundry" while the kids are still upstairs playing (or if you're Abby eating tissues and if you're Grayson stabbing Sadie in her sternum with his plastic sword.) Sometimes I just need a breather. Some personal space. Two minutes without baby saliva or answering "why did that thing make that noise the other day ago."
No matter how enthralled they are with their respective game or toy this is what I come back to find. Every time.
I feel like Madonna. Or at least Kathy Griffin.