Making the Baby Vain

Another of the many ways I am damaging Lucy: makeup. It started with the brushes. She'd watch me put makeup on in the car and demand to have her own brush. Now she's demanding actual pigment. "I need lipstick, Mom. I need some of your lipstick." I don't spend all that much time grooming, but what little I do (cover the spots, paint the lips, the basics) happens in the car while she is riding in the backseat (we can cover the subject of modeling bad driving another time).

I am not sure how to explain makeup or why I like/need it, and why she doesn't, or even the whole concept of physical beauty. But she seems to be interested in it. Granny (and others) have been telling her she's "special," which she frequently counters with "I'm not special, I'm Lucy." But tonight she described some dog on TV as "special," and I asked her what special means. "Special means cute, Mom. I'm so cute."

Before I could explore my many-layered response to "I'm so cute," she asked me about my eyebrows. Earlier, she and Jason had dropped in on me during an esthetician appointment, catching me in flagrante de waxo (more or less).

L: "Whatchu doing, Mom? You lying down?"
K: "Melody is fixing my eyebrows. And washing my face."
L: "She's gonna give you a bath?"
K: "She's gonna give my face a bath."
L: "Oh. I'm going to the grocery store with my dad. Bye."

"What Melody do to you, Mom?"
"She fixed my eyebrows and washed my face."
"Your eyebrows look cute, Mom. You're so cute."

I wanted to explain that between the brushes and the makeup and the wax and the occasional harsh chemical, that was a nice thing to hear, even if I didn't want to want to hear it. But instead, I just said thanks and told her she was so cute too.