Every year when February hits and the weather warms up to 80 degrees, it makes me start thinking about getting some sun on the whiteness that is my skin. In college, this was always crucial because Spring Break was right around the corner, and I did not want to be the whitest girl on the beach…especially since I was already the whitest girl on the dance floor.

Anyway, the great thing about college, other than living off my parents, was that pretty much everybody I knew lived in an apartment complex with a pool, so we could spend our afternoons at the pool of our choice, reading magazines, planning the night’s activities and getting some sun.

Ah, sweet youth.

The point is that when the weather gets warm, I want to get a tan. Oh, I know ozone, shmozone…blah, blah, blah. The bottom line is that tan fat looks better than white fat. It’s a scientific fact.

And who am I to argue with science?

The nice thing is that since I have an Italian heritage, it only takes about 30 minutes of sun time to get a little glow in my skin. Of course, since my hormones went awry after childbirth, that is also the amount of time that it takes for the pigmentation above my lip to get dark and begin to look like a very bad mustache.

It’s a hot look.

However, I will take a hint of a mustache over white cellulite any day of the week.

And the fact that those are my beauty options, just confirms that the mid-30’s are a glamorous time in a woman’s life.

So, all these thoughts about getting some sun make me think back to the summer I was pregnant with Caroline. We were living in a rent house because our home was in the middle of major renovations that would hopefully be finished by the time the baby arrived. Anyway, one afternoon in late June, I was bored. P was working and I was home alone with nothing to do.

Then, in a flash of brilliance, I decided to put on a swimsuit and go sit out in the backyard and get some sun. And to maximize my getting sun efforts, I chose to put on my non-maternity bikini swimsuit.

Looking good.

I contorted my seven month pregnant body into a bikini and let’s just say that there was maximum spillage everywhere, but I figured no one would see me and really, wouldn’t a little bit of a tan make my pregnant body look so much better?

The answer was literally a big, fat no, but God bless me for being so naive. The only thing that was going to make me look better at that point was childbirth and an ensuing maximum weight loss diet plan…oh, and for the fifteen pounds of water that I was retaining in my ankles to go away.

I was in the middle of gathering my crucial laying out in the sun supplies, such as InStyle magazine, water, and a towel, when the phone rang. As I was talking on the phone, I walked out in the backyard without realizing I didn’t bring any of my things out with me. I turned to go back inside and realized I had shut, and therefore locked, the back door.

I was standing in the backyard of a rental home, seven months pregnant in a bikini swimsuit with no towel, no t-shirt, and no tarp to cover my exposed pregnant self. I immediately began weighing my options. I tried all the back windows and they were locked. I contemplated hoisting my pregnant body over the chain link fence in the hopes that the front door might be unlocked.

Now, there is a mental image. A huge, pregnant woman in a too small bikini climbing a chain link fence. It would be enough to sear your corneas forever.

And seriously, it would have taken a forklift or maybe even a crane to get me over that fence.

After I quit panicking, I realized that I did have a phone (y’all know how your brain is when you’re pregnant) so I called P on his cell phone, explained what had happened, and after he quit laughing hysterically, he said that he would get home as soon as he could, but he was about 45 minutes away.

I spent the next 45 minutes talking on the phone to Gulley while intermittently drinking water out of the garden hose to keep myself hydrated, and hanging out of an increasingly small swimsuit. I’m sure it looked like a scene straight from an episode of Cops.

Finally, P showed up to rescue his waddling damsel in distress. I ran into the house and had never been more thankful for air conditioning and maternity clothing.

I don’t know what I was thinking going out there to get some sun.

Really, it all goes back to the inherent fact that tan fat looks better than white fat. I can’t fight science people, not even while seven months pregnant.

**This post was originally published March 6, 2007**

I kind of got the impression from the 100+ comments on my post about my Nanny’s birthday party, that y’all are interested in two critical pieces of information.

1. What is Nanny’s skincare regimen and has she made some sort of lucrative deal with God? And if so, how can you get in on that action?

2. What does that cat eat and does it include a growth hormone cocktail?

I can’t help y’all with the cat. It’s a Persian and it consists primarily of fur. If I had to guess, I’d say that if you shaved it bald it would look like a ferret.

It would also quit hacking up hairballs.

But Nanny read all your comments and has agreed to share her skincare secrets. However, I feel compelled to let you know that you can rest assured she has withheld some piece of information in here somewhere because she never gives away all her secrets.

It’s like the recipes for her cinnamon cake or her fudge. I can come close to duplicating them, but something is still missing.

This is the email that Nanny sent me (cut and pasted word for word):

“My complexion care began at an early age - like when I was about 13. We didn’t have clothes dryers back in those days so we had miles of clothes lines where we hung the wash out to dry. Maybe it had something to do with my growing taller, but it became my turn to hang the laundry out to dry.

If I stay in a dry climate for 3-4 weeks, I come home and keep my skin covered in Vaseline as much as possible. A little uncomfortable - but again, it can work magic.”

Can I just laugh about her reference to staying in a “dry climate”? She lives in Beaumont, TX. Everywhere else in the world is considered a “dry climate” compared to Beaumont, including Houston.

I can attest to the generous use of Abolene cleansing cream. It is one of the smells of my childhood. Any night I spent with Nanny ended with us watching Johnny Carson while she coated her face with Abolene and then wiped it off with a soft cloth.

She was also a pioneer of a product that’s now called Frownies, although I believe in those days they were called Wings.

Or maybe I just called them Wings because when I tried just now to Google “Wings” all that came up was a list of feminine products.

I never understood why someone would sleep with something pasted on their forehead, but now that I wake up with eight different creases in my forehead every morning, it seems a perfectly logical thing to do.

So there you have it. How to look fab at 90.

Of course I’ll also need a time machine to erase all the summers I spent baking in the sun.

There are some things that even Abolene can’t wash away.

You know why I love y’all? Because you make me feel less alone.

And even though I’ve never seen another woman at my neighborhood pool wearing a large hat in an attempt to both protect her face and hide her mustache, I now know that there are others out there with my same issues.

I just wish you lived closer so we could start some kind of support group. We could all sit around with our cream bleach on our upper lip and talk about how beauty was so much easier when we were fourteen and only had to worry about what flavor of Bonne Bell to use.

Or if our mamas noticed how much blue eyeshadow we had on as we headed to the mall on Friday night.

I have a million fashion questions to answer in my inbox and, frankly, it is stressing me out. However, I feel that the skincare issue is an important one, so that’s what I’m addressing today.

Plus, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t really seen any great clothes online lately. It’s kind of all the same stuff over and over again. Time to break out the fall fashions just in time for July.

Anyway, my mustache-eliminating regimen is a two-fold process.

1. I have had great success with Loreal’s Revitalift Micro-dermabrasion products. I use it about 2-3 times a week and after a few weeks, my skin looks noticeably better. This product alone helps significantly in reducing the appearance of the brown spots.

However, I am a believer in maximizing your efforts.

Otherwise known as being obsessive-compulsive.

Especially where age spots are concerned.

2. The other product that saved my life and my dignity during the horrible summer of horrendous mustache face was a bleaching cream with 2% hydroquinone. I can’t seem to find the brand that I used, but the key is to look for a product with 2% hydroquinone and use it faithfully twice a day.

It requires time and patience. Neither of which are really my gift.

Also, some people have a reaction to hydroquinone so use it sparingly at first to make sure that your skin can tolerate it and, for the love of everything, don’t use it on the days you do the micro-dermabrasion. It’s more than one face can handle. I don’t want any hate email about how hydroquinone ruined your life, so I’m handing out a warning right here and now.

Remember, I’m not a dermatologist. I just play one on the blog.

The biggest key to project mustache/age spot elimination success is to keep the sun completely off your face. Stock up on heavy-duty sunscreen and wear a big hat.

Speaking of hats, here are a few cute ones that I’ve found to assist me in both style and sun prevention efforts. I wear this hot pink one on an almost daily basis and on the plus side, there is no way the lifeguards won’t see me if I’m drowning.

I also like this one and this cowboy hat.

Here are a few other really cute, practical options.

Or you could always go with this option, but if you do please don’t tell me about it. Just put on your Vans and keep moving.

On another skincare note, I received an email from a reader named Kristi who asked me what kind of foundation I use. She was looking for “something that can take the heat, look flawless (on flawed skin), and be good for my combination, easily prone to adult acne, face” and asked me for recommendations. She’s been using Bare Minerals and isn’t thrilled with the coverage.

I recently switched from Bare Minerals for the same reason. I love how it feels, but wasn’t always satisfied with the coverage. My current foundation is by Laura Mercier and while I like the coverage, it feels too heavy in the summer heat and humidity.

So, do y’all have any good foundation recommendations? What product provides good coverage yet doesn’t feel too heavy? What about tinted moisturizers? Any luck with those?

I promise I’ll actually post about fashion next Friday, but I felt like the beauty issues had to be addressed. After all, fashion comes and goes, but your face is with you forever.

Much like a four-year-old who senses you are on the phone.

Hope y’all have a great Friday!

Oh, and don’t forget to head over to the LifeWay All-Access blog. There’s some good stuff going on over there and I have a new post up today.

**Edited to add: I fixed the link to the hot pink hat. Sorry about that. I was multi-tasking and put up the wrong link.

P keeps asking me if I notice a difference driving my car with four new tires. And I’m really trying to feel the difference but, as far as I can tell, it’s not something tangible that instantly improves a situation, like say a great pair of wedge heels.

Even as Caroline walked out to the car this morning, she said, “Those tires don’t look any different”.

Yep.

A whole lot of not different.

But here’s something that’s different. Apparently I turned into an eighty-year-old woman over the winter months.

Over the last six or so years, I have become pretty diligent about keeping sunscreen on my face. Just call it a desperate attempt to make up for an ill spent youth that consisted of days spent getting the perfect tan on my face with no sunscreen.

The 70’s were a kinder, gentler time when people didn’t know words like OZONE or LONG-TERM SUN DAMAGE.

Oh sure, I was on the swim team for much of my childhood and I always wore the requisite zinc oxide smeared across my nose, but that was more for the look. THE COOL SWIMMER LOOK.

I didn’t care if my nose got sunburned and I certainly wasn’t concerned with any reapplication after swimming, I just wanted to look like all the cool older swimmers as we sat and ate our packets of dry Jello gelatin in between races.

Why did we eat Jello gelatin? I can’t remember but I think it involved some theory about providing energy. Or maybe just a sugar high that could fuel a nine-year-old to victory in the 100 meter freestyle. Whatever. ALL THE COOL KIDS DID IT.

Anyway, at some point in my late twenties, it became apparent that my skin had suffered some sun damage. The main thing that concerned me was the fact that it wouldn’t really tan in the sun anymore. It would just turn red and splotchy. HOT LOOK BY THE POOL.

Are you suffering from heat stroke? No, I just fried my skin throughout childhood. This is my consequence.

Then, after Caroline was born almost five years ago, my hormones exploded in the form of melasma, also known as evil mask of pregnancy. The first summer after she was born, in spite of my liberal use of sunscreen, I developed dark, patchy spots in the perfect form of a mustache.

Horror doesn’t begin to describe it.

When I close my eyes, I can still hear my screaming.

Thankfully I managed to micro-dermabrasion and bleach away that bad boy. Otherwise I would currently be wearing a veil over my face for all public outings lest I scare the little children or cause them to think they’re at the circus.

So, these days I wear some heavy-duty sunscreen in addition to various big, floppy hats to provide maximum sun protection. Even though between the hat and the big sunglasses I look like someone’s Aunt Maude having a day at the pool.

I fully expect that Caroline will end up in therapy over the hats her mama wore to the pool throughout her childhood.

While we were in Florida last week I became giddy with all the freedom, threw caution to the wind and played in the ocean for at least an hour without a hat on. My face didn’t burn because I had on my SPF 170, but it did get some sun for the first time in five years.

There are vampires that have seen more daylight than my face.

Anyway, that little moment of indiscretion in the waves came back to haunt me in the form of not one, but TWO age spots. I’d like to say they are freckles, but I’ve never seen a freckle a 1/4 inch in diameter. For that matter, I’ve never seen a freckle that looks like a map of the former Czech Republic.

Needless to say, the micro-dermabrasion has been working overtime since I returned home to the harsh reality of my bathroom mirror with overhead lighting. Also, there has been many a prayer for skincare redemption being lifted to the heavens.

I think at least one of the age spots has faded to the point of looking like it could at least be a distant cousin to a freckle, but I will never make such a grave error again.

So, if you need to find me at the pool just look for Maw-Maw sitting in the shade with a hat that could be mistaken for a satellite dish.

So yesterday I was too absorbed in my tale of Mother’s Day woe to comment on the astounding amount of fabulous beauty tips contained within the comments of Friday’s post.

Well done, internet. Well done.

Y’all provided a wealth of useful information.

And caused me to make an emergency trip to the HEB to purchase several beauty items that now seem to be paramount to my existence.

Because if there is anything that will cause me to drop some cash, it’s the allure of maintaining some sort of youthful glow which will enable me to pretend that I am not just one year away from attending my twentieth high school reunion.

(HERE’S WHERE THERE SHOULD BE A PHOTO OF MY HEB PURCHASES. OLIVE OIL, CASTOR OIL, SESAME OIL, A BODY BRUSH, AND SOME YOPLAIT LOW-FAT YOGURT. BUT THERE IS NO PICTURE BECAUSE WORDPRESS IS TRYING TO DRIVE ME SLOWLY INSANE. JUST USE YOUR IMAGINATION.)

The Yoplait Low-Fat Yogurt wasn’t one of the beauty tips, but I did choose to buy the low-fat version as opposed to the fat-free version because after I wrote my post declaring my love for the Yoplait Fat-Free, someone let me know that the fat-free version contains aspartame and if I continue to eat it I will be dead in a year.

Aspartame = evil potion of death

Got it.

Let’s just not discuss my love of Diet Coke.

Some things are non-negotiable.

So assuming that I’m going to live another day now that I’ve rid myself of excess aspartame, I’ve decided to embrace a few new additions to my beauty rituals.

1. Dry-brushing - Please note the new body brush that I purchased at HEB. (USE YOUR IMAGINATION) Hanlie was the first person to mention the dry-brushing and she had me at “helps with cellulite”. Sure it can help rid your body of toxins as well, but no one can see toxins when you’re wearing a swimsuit.

I emailed Hanlie and asked, “WHAT UP with the dry-brushing? Help me. I do not understand but I want to learn more about this potential miracle.”

She emailed me back with some more information and actually sent me this link to a post she wrote about dry-brushing.

I have now dry-brushed for two days. Can’t really say that I feel any different so far, other than the release of all the aspartame that was stored in my lymphatic system.

2. Castor oil and olive oil face cleansing - I thought castor oil was just something that they used in cartoons. I had no idea it had a real live purpose or that you can find it with all the laxatives in the pharmacy section of the store.

Picture me at HEB with a cart filled with Yoplait, olive oil, castor oil, sesame oil and the body brush. The cashier didn’t even look me in the eye. He probably thought I was in need of some serious help.

Jenni at Makeshift Mama was the one who suggested the oil cleaning method. Of course I emailed her because HELP! I need more information. How much oil? What kind of mixture? I want to learn, but I am slow. She graciously sent me some more information and the link to this post about it.

I did it for the first time last night which was risky because I am suffering from horrendous PMS that has turned my chin into a vicious battleground for control of my pores. It just seemed to have BAD IDEA written all over it. But I am a risk-taker by nature.

That is such a lie.

I hate risk. Risk makes me queasy.

It didn’t make it any easier when P followed me into the bathroom to see what I was doing. I told him it was a miracle cleansing solution for skin.

“Who told you about it?”

“Well, somebody I don’t know told me about it on the internet.”

Which made me seem totally credible and informed.

He then spent the rest of the night telling me that every time he got close to me he had a strange craving for Italian food.

He is a comedian.

But this risk paid off. I awoke yesterday morning to glowing skin.

And a craving for pasta.

3. Neutrogena Sesame Oil - I actually used this product a long time ago but always managed to make a huge, oily mess every time I used it. Now, thanks to the marvel that is the internet, someone let me know that I could put it in a spray bottle and mist myself with it when I get out of the shower.

Well, yes. That makes perfect sense.

Although my first moisturizing love will always be Hummingbird Farms Lavender Lotion. It’s divine.

4. I have always heard that you can use Preparation H to help with bags under your eyes, but Tammy left a comment that mentioned you can also use it to get rid of those creases in your face caused by a waning amount of collagen and the bedsheets.

I didn’t have the nerve to buy the Preparation H at the same time I bought all my other stuff because the cashier might have decided to call an ambulance due to what appeared to be some monumental gastrointestinal issues, but I’ll buy it next time so that Caroline will quit telling me she can see my brains on my forehead.

5. Lora Lynn and several other commenters talked about using Coconut Oil on their face. Apparently it’s not only edible and will make you smell like the Hawaiian Tropic model, but it’s also an effective anti-bacterial moisturizer.

I wasn’t sure where to buy Coconut Oil and thought I might have to make Caroline spend her summer grinding coconuts into oil to make Mama beautiful, but Quirky let me know that you can buy it at Walmart or any drugstore in the health and beauty aisle.

6. Jenn mentioned the importance of using a topical Vitamin C product to help with collagen production. Sign me up for some Vitamin C.

7. A bunch of y’all mentioned Aquaphor as the miracle cure for almost everything. I discovered Aquaphor when Caroline was a baby and had dry skin. I’ve been a fan ever since.

8. Last but not least, Sara emailed me to tell me about silicone primer. It’s a new product that you use after your moisturizer and before you put on foundation. It’s supposed to refine your pores and give you a flawless makeup finish. She is a fan of this primer that you can purchase at Sephora.

So I guess y’all know where I will be tomorrow.

Clearly, I am very impressionable.

And I’m thinking once I start slathering my face with silicone, is it really going to matter if I ingest a lot of aspartame? Haven’t I already crossed some kind of non-natural boundary line?

I’ll report back in a few weeks on all my new beauty regimens.

Hopefully I’ll have the skin of a newborn baby.

Well, if you covered newborn babies in all manner of oils and Preparation H.

I’ve spent most of this week suffering at the hands of various allergens in the air. And also whining about my scratchy, sore throat, fatigue, congestion and itchy eyes.

Wish you were here!

So about five minutes ago, when I realized it was time to write Fashion Friday, I came up with another one of my brilliant ideas.

Thank you, Blair Warner.

I don’t have the energy to search all over the internet for fashion finds right now. Sure, I have a lot of questions in my Fashion Friday File and I’ll get to them someday. But today is not that day.

I’m going to let y’all do most of the work today because I am the Tom Sawyer of the blog world.

I want to know the best piece of beauty and/or fashion advice anyone ever gave you. And I don’t want to hear things like “It’s what’s on the inside that matters”. Blah, blah, blah.

We know that. The inside is the most important thing. I’m looking for shallow, superficial beauty tips that have changed your beauty regimen.

I’ll share three pieces of beauty advice that personally changed my life.

1. A tan makes everything look better. It’s part of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.

You can’t fight science.

Many of y’all have commented or emailed to inquire about what kind of self-tanner I prefer. I use Neutrogena in a medium shade. Sure there are other brands that cost more and might be a little better, but I have always been happy with the Neutrogena. It gives me a good glow and I can buy it at HEB.

I also like Jergens Natural Glow to maintain some good color because I can just put it on like moisturizer and not worry as much about streaking and lines.

2. Never underestimate the importance of plucking your eyebrows.

My mama hounded me for years about tweezing my eyebrows but I completely ignored her. What does she know? My eyebrows look great and aren’t at all bushy.

This is a picture of me my junior year in high school.

I should have listened to my mother.

In the future whenever Caroline doesn’t want to listen to me, I will show her this picture to serve as a cautionary tale about the perils of not listening to your mother’s beauty advice.

And on a side note, even if permed bangs looked darling on Meg Ryan in the last scene of “When Harry Met Sally”, doesn’t mean they work for everyone.

3. A good mascara is worth its weight in gold.

Which wouldn’t actually be very much.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is a good mascara is invaluable.

I recently made the best mascara discovery of my life.

Covergirl LashBlast.

It has a rubber-bristled brush that’s different than other mascaras so it’s like using a fine tooth comb on your eyelashes. It defines and separates each lash in a way that defies logic and convention.

So dear internet, it is your turn. Spill the beans with your best beauty advice.

And have a great Friday!

I was looking at my Wordpress dashboard last night and noticed that someone found my blog by googling, “Help, my eyelashes have grown back in pointing downwards.”

Well, great.

As if I don’t have enough on my mind with the downward spiral of the stock market, the Presidential race, and whether or not to let my hair grow back out, now I have to worry about the possibility that my eyelashes are growing in at a downward angle.

There isn’t an eyelash curler in the world that can fix that.

I realize that some of you wanted to see a picture of the offensive earrings that required my daughter to pray them away like something that smelled bad, and I would totally show them to you except I’m way too busy to get up, pause the DVR, find the camera and take a picture.

But there isn’t much to see anyway since the earrings are just plain, silver hoops.

I’m not sure why they were offensive, especially to someone who wears clip-on earrings with a picture of Barbie’s face on them.

Anyway, we had a pretty uneventful weekend around here, which seems to be a trend. However, I learned two things over the weekend.

No wait, I learned three.

1. If I could be any Hollywood star (which other than my lack of acting ability, I’m not sure what’s standing in my way) I would be the lovely Jennifer Garner. Her dress was spectacular last night. Her hair was divine. Her makeup was impeccable.

2. I’m not sure what up with John Travolta’s hair, but it appeared that he had used some type of spray-on hair paint. In a color that could only be called “Eddie Munster Black”.

3. If you happen to use Jergens Self-Tanning Lotion, do not store the bottle in its upright position. This is tricky because it’s in a tube that will make you think you can set it down on its flip-top cap. Wrong. This will cause maximum self-tan waste, although with any luck the shelf-lining of my bathroom cabinet will look fresh and sun-kissed by morning.

I realize that last item doesn’t have anything to do with the Academy Awards, however, it was the most valuable discovery of my weekend.

The weather was gorgeous. Sunny. 80 degrees. Not a cloud in the sky. The kind of weather that turns my thoughts to my pasty, winter-white skin and the need for a little glow.

We spent a lot of time outside so I hoped I had gotten a little natural color going, but something odd has happened to me in my mid-30’s. I don’t tan. I also don’t really burn. I just stay the same. It’s as if my pigment has died on the inside, much like my love for Ricky Schroeder did after “Silver Spoons” went off the air.

In spite of some time in the sun (And I know, sunscreen, ozone, blah, blah, blah. Can’t we focus on the positives, like my awesome intake of Vitamin D?) I remain winter white. So, I decided it was time for some self-tanner because, after waking up this morning with a wrinkle running through my forehead that was so deep I could feel it with my hand before I ever looked in the mirror, I need all the help I can get.

P didn’t help matters when he saw an old picture of the two of us sitting on the desk. He asked, “When was this taken?” I told him it was taken right after we got married, so about ten years ago. He replied, “Man, we are not going to look good in ten more years.”

What’s with the “we”? I don’t know what his plans are but I’m going to fight it with everything I have.

And, currently, what I have is a bottle of self-tanner that is now more than half-empty.

I’m probably going to need something else.

Well, y’all will probably be as relieved as I was to know that according to some “experts” on the internet, my eyelashes should grow back in six to eight weeks. In the meantime I will be walking around with a naked eye because false eyelashes aren’t really in the cards for me due to the fact that I have the manual dexterity of a monkey with oversized hands that has just finished a bottle of cheap tequila.

It’s really for the best because I’d probably end up developing some sort of addiction to long, lush lashes and before you know it I’d look like Zsa Zsa Gabor but younger and brunette. And possibly alive.

Is Zsa Zsa still with us? I don’t want to put someone prematurely in their grave. I already did that once upon a time to Ed McMahon and I just felt awful about it for nearly three seconds.

Anyway, yesterday Caroline had school. It was pajama day and also, pancake day. Can anyone guess what letter they are learning this week?

I knew that you could.

I dressed her in new pajamas that I purchased at Target. I knew she would love them because they had an iron-on transfer kitten on the shirt and she is a fan of kitschy. Sure enough, when she saw them she jumped into my arms and gave me a big hug. It’s just a matter of time before I completely give in to her fashion desires and begin purchasing shirts that glitter and sparkle and feature twee little animals like puppies and unicorns.

After I dropped Caroline and her homage to the 70’s t-shirt off at preschool, I headed home. I was determined to do some form of exercise because it has come to my attention that I am officially three months away from having to wear a swimsuit in public almost every day.

If that doesn’t strike fear in your heart then you are a better woman than me.

As I sadly discovered while looking in the dressing room mirror at Target, my backside is not really swimsuit ready. It has spent this chilly winter comfortably wrapped in flannel pajama bottoms, yoga pants and jeans. It has led a sheltered, pampered life since October when it discovered the evil that is candy corn, and then binged on in to December in the form of homemade toffee. And now it must pay.

I put the dogs on their leashes and we headed out with all the grace of the aforementioned monkey. We walked, and jogged, and got horrendous side cramps from the exertion. Of course that might have just been Scout and me because Bruiser seemed totally fine. He’s always been so athletic.

When we finally arrived back home I decided I needed to continue to pay the toffee piper and did about forty lunges on the back porch and then some stomach crunches. I say “some” because I lost count about the time I started crying from the pain.

At that point my legs and abdominal muscles let me know that I am a dirty, rotten, toffee-eating hag and they would like to go live on someone else’s body.

Which makes me hopeful that perhaps Giselle Bundchen legs are also looking for a new body and if so, I am totally available.

Last night I had Bible Study. I believe I have mentioned that my Bible Study Group is doing “Believing God” by Beth Moore this spring.

We are also looking for a more creative name for ourselves than Bible Study Group, although you have to admit it’s pretty catchy.

We are starting week three of the study, but since we fell behind due to excessive talking and sharing the week before, we listened to week two and week three last night. It was a lot to digest all in one sitting and frankly speaking, God kind of absolutely rocked my world. I was challenged, I was encouraged, I was moved beyond my understanding.

So, on the way home from Gulley’s house, I had myself some church in my car. I poured out my heart and all my shortcomings. I told God that I didn’t want it to be about me and my pride and my vanity and all those other things that I cling to for security. I let it all go.

Later in the night, Caroline got in bed with us. We all slept peacefully until about 3:00 a.m. when I made the unfortunate decision to get up and go to the bathroom. With that move, I disrupted the balance and equilibrium of the entire universe and Caroline could no longer sleep.

She spent the next three hours contemplating her existence and experimenting with various ways to completely drive me out of my mind while ensuring that I not be allowed to go back to sleep. And yes, I realize I could have put her back in her own bed and I threatened such action many, MANY times. However, I was too tired to go to all that effort.

Finally, at around 6 a.m. when P was getting out of bed, she and I finally fell asleep and slept until 9 a.m. Which was heavenly except for the fact that we had thirty minutes to get dressed and to gymnastics.

We were rushing around…actually I was rushing around while Caroline rode her scooter, said good morning to the dogs, dumped all her crayons out of the box to find the pink one, and then after the 184th time that I told her to get her leotard on, began to get dressed.

Once I had her moving in the right direction, I headed to the bathroom to try and make myself look decent. I had no time for makeup but decided to curl my eyelashes in a sad, feeble attempt to make myself look bright and impossibly fresh.

And that’s when it happened.

I will reflect on this moment for years to come, wondering where it all went wrong.

For some reason, while my eyelashes were in the grip of the curler, I turned my head. Now, I am not an eyelash curling rookie. I have been curling my lashes for lo these last twenty-three years. I have no excuse for my lapse in judgement.

Needless to say, I immediately felt some pain in my eyelash region and looked down to see a vast multitude of lashes in the sink and in my eyelash curler. And in the words uttered by a woman whom I have never met but whose story I immediately remembered, I said, “Y’all”.

I stood and stared at those eyelashes, willing them to reattach themselves to my now pink and slightly swollen eyelid. I think we all know how that turned out.

After a day spent assessing the damage, I believe I am missing about 1/4 of my eyelashes between the inner corner of my eye and the center of my eye. I can’t even bear to do a google search to find out how long it will take them to grow back.

Apparently, God took me seriously when I told Him I didn’t want it to be about my pride or my vanity. It’s hard to be proud or vain when you find yourself missing a 1/4 of your eyelashes.

And now if y’all will excuse me, I need to go shopping for some false eyelashes.