I always wanted a princess. I named her a princess name, painted her room purple and pink, and braided her hair when there were still more bald patches than lovely golden locks to work with.
I guess all I can say is be careful what you wish for... because my daughter is officially all girl.
I'd love to say I have time to stand in front of the mirror and primp each morning, but in reality I'm pretty quick in and out of the shower. Anabelle tends to wander in right about the time I'm about to blow dry, and she likes to 'visit' with me while I put my makeup on (which is usually about a 3.5 minute process involving face lotion, and a quick swipe of whatever my hand touches first in the makeup drawer).
In an attempt to capitalize on the 'moment' we often share together, and keep her out of the 'good' stuff (MY stuff!), I picked up a few play makeup items to keep in a little basket in my drawer for her to beautify with while we visit. So far, its worked like a charm.
Until, that is, I had a rare opportunity to 'splurge' and get myself a nice Urban Decay eyeshadow palate since Steph offered to go halvesies with me for my birthday. Its been a rare treat, and I use it sparingly and gently so I can savor it as long as time allows.
And by time, I mean Anabelle.
She's been eyeing all the vibrant colors for weeks. She watches me lustfully as I carefully and sparingly apply, and I've let her have a little dab here and there but always under close supervision. Until recently, she's been pretty good about asking. But suddenly... she has lost all self control when it comes to beauty treatments. Its hard to discipline her too harshly when I completely relate to the struggle.
I thought it odd when she didn't answer the breakfast call this morning with the gusto of a malnourished orphan as usual. I wandered down the hall to look for her, and she met me half way looking a little guilty. I briefly noted her behavior, but swept her up and placed her at the table with her oatmeal bowl half distracted by noisy kids and phone calls and the weather man talking about the Central Coast in Springtime.
Then, I saw it. Ever so faintly, but definitely visible... SOMEONES been playing beauty shop. With the good stuff (but of course!).
And it didn't take me long to crack the rest of the case, when I found my once clean and immaculate palate of wonders now not-so-gently used and disgracefully discarded behind THE TOILET on the BATHROOM FLOOR to hide the evidence. I couldn't think of a more sanitary place to hide something that belongs on your face!
I suppose its a right of passage for every toddler girl, and every mother alike. I vaguely recall a time long ago that I too explored my mother's makeup basket. The pictures of me are much more... beautiful... than this of Anabelle Lee, so I guess I should be grateful in a way.
As I take my 'deep cleansing breaths of self control,' I suppose it all goes to show that when you are a mother, you relinquish all rights to selfishness, materialism, and expensive taste for the greater good of affording your most cherished treasures the priceless commodity of a quality childhood experience.
And I am reminded yet again that as a Mother, it is my duty to make known to my daughter that beauty doesn't come in a bright purple Urban Decay compact (tho LORD KNOWS it sure is a close interpretation).
But a true princess doesn't need a mirror to know she is beautiful. Just a little patience and understanding. Even in the face of watching one of your favorite things fall behind the toilet.