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I steal from my children. The loot is nothing tangible—I don’t swipe quarters from their piggy banks or cookies off their lunch plates. What I steal is more valuable. Time. Bit by bit, I snatch precious time from my kids—in increments of just a minute. “Mom, can I please have a cup of juice with my breakfast?” Sure, sweetheart, just give me a minute. “Come see my picture, Momma! I colored it for you!” Wonderful! I’ll be there in a minute. “Mom, I need your help. I can’t pull the cap off my glue stick.” Okay, just a minute. “Will …