The shades of pinks, oranges, chocolate browns mimic candies and sunsets.
Some of the lip paints have glitter spun through the sticky cream. The sparkles catch light and curious little girls. It’s a big, light-tight net.
I can’t blame Beatrix. If I were a 3.5 year old with knowledge of nine dainty squares of potted paints in mama’s bathroom drawer, I’d have to investigate.
When I discovered what she had done my first reaction was eye-rolling annoyance, but not anger. I have a small daughter who wants to be like me. It’s not shocking she’d visit my makeup drawer on some quiet afternoon.
Why be angry over ravaged Avon?
With my older children, I would have been far more irritated. I would have taken their destruction personally, slipping into a preoccupation with wondering where I went wrong and if their hijinks were going to lead to a life of vandalism and disrespect.
In other words, total over-reaction.
Yes, she should keep her busy mitts out of my stuff. That understanding is slow to come. It wasn’t long ago she was in the throes of toddlerhood where everything is “mine” and never, ever yours.
Beatrix is able to grasp where she ends and everyone else begins, but it takes discipline to fully embrace this attitude. Think of how many adults still don’t understand this concept.
Other people have rights to keep their belongings clean, intact, and under their ownership. This makeup mining incident was the perfect opportunity to talk with her about boundaries and to build empathy.
I told her the lip colors she ruined were a Christmas present from my mama. I was happy when I opened that present because I liked it and because someone special gave it to me. Did she understand?
I think she understood. She said she did, but time will tell.
I remember playing with makeup, too. I also raided my mother’s jewelry boxes. I can’t promise everything was returned in the same condition it was in when I first pulled the baubles over my head or up my arm.
I still like to look at my mom’s jewelry when we visit. She has a talent for making gorgeous earrings and necklaces. If she had been harsh or cruel about how I mistreated her things, though, I wouldn’t wish to bother. It would be a source of painful memories and that would be a genuine shame.
I don’t want to kill Beatrix’s trust in my steady judgment by being a fire hose putting out a lone birthday candle. I can be the gentle puff, exhaling the candle out when necessary.
Which candle will be easier to relight?
