One of the nicest (and unexpected) discoveries I've made since having a third child is that the older 2 enjoy skiving off to play on their own, giving me more one-on-one time with Leo than I anticipated. Of course much of their play results in some fairly crazy messes, like the current trend of stripping their beds to build a mountain with the bedding and then diving into it. They close the door to their room and we all pretend they are playing something that does not involve covering every inch of the floor. Below is Max's bed (stripped of course) and piled high with some stories for "Dad to read later" [note the empty shelves where they normally reside].
I've weighed it all up and for the most part I prefer the time I get to 'myself' more than keeping the place clean. I'm also glad that for now at least they can play together for such long periods of time (an hour at the most...if they have been well fed & watered). They usually emerge bearing some game that needs to be set up in the lounge because "there's no room left in there". Occasionally I go in and find them just laying about reading a book, or playing intently with something, like yesterday I discovered Max tinkering in the toy house. When I asked him what it was he had created he replied "a jungle had grown up in Max's room, just like in the book".
Love that :: and the fact that Max is a mustache-toting Lego sheriff.