Nathan and I went out for dinner on Sunday evening.
It had been a busy day, with church and an afternoon walk that ended at the playground, so I didn't get a chance to shower until late in the afternoon. I'm always excited when I get to have a shower when Nathan is home to watch the kids because not only do I get to rinse all the shampoo out of my hair, I even get to condition - and sometimes I even have enough time to shave my legs! So I had a long, relaxing shower, dried off, got dressed, and went into the half bath in our bedroom to do my hair and put on my make-up.
And realized that Nathan had not been watching Ellie.
Playing with my make-up is one of Ellie's favourite pastimes. She very carefully takes each item out of my make-up bag, examines it, opens it if she can, closes it, then places it somewhere else. I don't understand her system at all: Some items end up on the scale, others on the toilet, and every now and then I find something in the garbage can.
My initial reaction was one of frustration. I had just cleaned the bathroom earlier in the day! It's not really a big deal to pick up the small amount of make-up I own, but doing it ten or more times a day can be a little tiring.
But then I saw the dinosaur standing guard atop my eye shadow.
And I realized something. The day is coming when I won't find miniature dinosaurs in the bathroom next to my make-up. There will be a day all too soon when Ellie cares more about the numbers on the scale than how to line up my lipstick on it, and at some point she's going to stop using my make-up brush on her hair. She'll probably still get into my make-up - but she'll be painting her face instead of the walls, trying to fit in with her friends or impress a boy.
Sixteen months old, and she's already growing up.
So I let the frustration pass. I scooped her up, smoothed her jam-encrusted hair, and kissed her sticky little cheek. I wish my little girl could stay little forever.