The Beauty of Children

If ever there was anything I was certain about, it’s that I’ve raised some pretty amazing kids. But, along the way I’ve also been tested. So testing in fact, that my kids may have thought I needed the professional advice of a psychiatrist or maybe just some medication to take the edge off my insane mood swings.

The good news is I and they, survived childhood, but not without some hilarious stories I intend on sharing with other brain frazzled parents.

The most recent melt down occurred this morning as I was getting ready to take a flight to see my sister in Arizona. I made my list days ago and packed everything neatly into a well organized suitcase. I prepared my wardrobe meticulously making sure I have an outfit for any occasion that might present itself. You know, dinner with the Queen, or cocktails with the Obama’s.

As I dried off from my shower, I reached into the medicine cabinet to retrieve deodorant, only to find that it had vanished into thin air. Perhaps my daughter ran out and forgot to tell me? Perhaps, she borrowed it with the full intention of giving it back and leaving me a note to pick up more? Now, instead of my usual pretty floral underarm scent, I smell something like a sailor with the pungent scent of Old Spice to ward of the nasties.

Now that I’m dried off and dressed, it’s time to perform the daily “hair” miracle. With hair nearly down to my butt, it takes a lot of product to tame my curly locks, so again I reach for my hair gel and discover that I’ve only got a pea sixed amount left. You see, my hair is not only long, but thicker than the ice sheets in Greenland. A pea sized amount of product on this head would tame about half dozen hairs give or take. So then I am forced to use the product I tried last month that is the consistency of sticky glue that never dries. How does my hair look you’re wondering? Well, aside from frizzing out like a 70’s afro, not bad.

Okay, body clean, dressed and hair tended to, I’m off to apply my make-up. You see, make-up is another very important aspect to my self-esteem which over the last ten years has plummeted to negative 100. Face make-up or foundation is necessary to cover up what Mother Nature calls “aging.” On my cheeks is the road map to route 66 in the form of small broken capillaries. They are equally spread across both cheeks and need several layers of make-up t hide them.

I open my make-up bag with all the necessary tools. It organized alphabetically for easy access. I reach in and pull my miracle face cream. It’s tinted in a lovely shade of ivory and matches my skin perfectly. It’s the best cover-up I’ve ever used. A light, but thick face mousse that looks flawless when applied with a make-up sponge. It works so well that nobody would ever guess that my skin isn’t perfect.

I twirl off the lid effortlessly and look down into the small jar and the shock of its contents sends me into a near nervous break-down. The jar is completely empty. Not just empty, but the glass of the car is so clean you’d be hard pressed to say if it ever actually contained make-up.

After deep breathing and a quick prayer to my maker, I calm down and face the truth. “I am going to look like white trash today!” This revelation you’d think, would make me so upset that it might actually ruin my mood for my long awaited vacation, but I continue on undeterred. I text message my daughter to ask her what she’d done with my make-up. As it turns out, it is her perfect shade as well. Hmm, guess I should have checked my make-up bag, medicine cabinet and hair gel levels prior to take off, one hour from now…

My daughter is quite lucky that she’s at school and not at home where I can employ my discontent. She should consider herself the luckiest child on the face of the earth that she’s tucked safely away at school and not in front of me.

For all the women out there who “share” nearly everything they own with a daughter remember just one thing. “It is against the law to beat your children.” It’s not against the law to make them get a job so they can buy their own $20.00 cover-up, but it is against the law to smack them around. Keep repeating this sentence line until your breathing levels out and the redness in your cheeks subsides.