I should start putting "Eat" at the top of my to-do list. Then I'd always feel like I accomplished something.

Every morning, after I drop the Munchkin off at school, I make a list of things to get done while I have half my total number of children in tow. Grocery store. Dry cleaning. Drop-offs at Goodwill. Blah, blah, my life is so exciting, blah blah.

Then I come home, do none of those things, and end up playing with Kitt on the floor for three hours.

I can't help it. She's so fun.

The thing is, she's used to doing her own thing. My undivided attention doesn't impress her at all. I could perform an entire Broadway musical using sock puppets, and she'd sit there sticking and unsticking a piece of tape on the carpet.

So, sometimes I take 20 minutes to ignore her back and pretend I'm on vacation. Sometimes I am so bold as to make myself a pot of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. As in, like, a HOT breakfast! All for me! Who knew such a thing only takes ten minutes to prepare when you don't have two kids trying to pants you?!

Then I find her and demand that she play with me, dammit.

When the Munchkin was this age, it seemed like I always had to have some brilliant idea for a game. She'd play, but she always followed my lead. Kitt, on the other hand, makes up the games on her own. She already knows what she wants to play.

So she blows on my coffee to cool it down (toddlers are so freaking cute when they purse their lips), laughs hysterically when I let her pretend to drink it. I chase her around the living room. She puts her head under a pillow and lies there with her little bum sticking out until I pretend to find her.

She is so fun.

Playing with her makes me want more kids.

Of course, then I recall the other night when the Munchkin threw a hissy fit at bedtime, screamed for 25 minutes, stripped off her clothes, then came downstairs stark naked and asked me what I did with her pajamas.

Ah. Nothing like a good old-fashioned reality check.

Especially a naked one.