Weekends like this one make me loath going to work.
Hannah is at such a wonderful developmental place - she is constantly learning new party tricks and is so pleased with herself whenever she manages to get in 'trouble'.
Her latest fascination is my makeup bag.
Whenever she manages to sneak away (usually while I fold laundry) I'll silently bet myself money that I'll find her digging into my makeup. I remember that I hid it in my bedroom, but she spotted it while I was nursing her, and even though I distracted her she probably still remembers. As I open the door to the master bedroom, I spot Hannah crouched over a floral print bag that has been over turned. Compacts and eye pencils and a lash curler are strewn about. She hears me enter and tries to scurry away from the scene, but she forgets to sit down the evidence - a tube of mascara is clutched in one hand and in the other is my expensive blush brush now wet with baby drool. She waits for my reaction and when she sees that I'm not mad, she stands up - giggling - and runs to me. She hugs my legs and then reaches her arms up so that I'll pick her up.
She gets into everything nowadays. I find baby toys in random places where she's carried them to and then dropped them, trading them for some shiny adult object she'd rather hold. She's trying to find her voice, but in the meantime just screeches an ear piercing scream of excitement. She's just learned how to crawl onto the couch and likes to jump on the love seat and she keeps attempting to dive head first off the arm rest.
And even though she keeps me on my toes all day long - she's so fun.