My Toughest Critic

As I was walking the trails at our nearby nature park, I decided what I wanted to write about. All around me were lots of nordic hats and spandex. Attached to these creatures were sticks on their feet and in their hands. I know I am a little bitter about cross-country skiers, which I wrote about earlier, but they closed off all my trails again today since there's enough snow to ski on. Once again I'm on the pee wee trails. But I digress...

Anyway, I've had an interesting few weeks.

After vacation we got settled back into our routine. It always takes a while to adjust to reality but we did fine. One evening my 7 year old daughter looked at me closely.

"Mom", she said carefully, "No offense, but all the mothers I know who are in their forties look like they're in their forties, but you look like you're in your fifties. No offense mom."

A lot of people would be offended but I considered the source. Here was the girl who wore high-water pants and shirts with holes in them because they were her favorites. I admit my clothes are a bit matronly, and I seldom wear make-up because I frankly can't stand it. My hair was getting too long and puffy and the gray was showing.

"Stay there", she said, "I'm going to go get some make-up to make you look younger".

I quietly sat there expecting the worst. I wasn't disappointed. She came downstairs with all of my old make-up, a brush and a ponytail holder. First she took a handful of hair from the back of my head and made a small ponytail. Next she applied the make-up very carefully. I had blush on my cheeks and blue eyeshadow applied to my eyes. The lipstick she put on me was crooked. She stepped back and looked at me.

"That looks much better!" she exclaimed.

The little fashion diva skipped merrily away. I looked in the mirror and sighed. Not long after I had to go to the store so I washed it off, took out the ponytail and brushed my hair. As I was leaving, she came to kiss me good-bye.

"Why did you take it off?" she asked. Looking for a good excuse I told her, "My face was already dirty and it was bothering me. Sorry".

"That's OK", she said and went back to play.

I started to look at myself and I really didn't like what I saw. I don't usually critique myself since I don't get into all the hair and make-up stuff, but I saw an old looking disheveled woman. Luckily I had a hair appointment the next week.

As I was waiting for my turn I looked in books to see what cut I wanted to try. I finally found one and my hair dresser cut and highlighted it to hide some of the gray. I really loved the results since it made me look years younger. With great confidence I drove home. I couldn't wait to hear what my family thought.

I went in the house and my son was in the kitchen. He looked at me and said, "Wow, Mom, I really like it!"

One down, two to go.

My husband was in the next room. "I like your hair!", he said. Coming from him, this was a great compliment. It worked! I thought.

Finally, Miss Beauty Consultant came in.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, MOM???!!! I DON'T LIKE IT AT ALL! YOU LOOK REALLY OLD. I WANT YOU TO GROW IT BACK!", she said rather crossly.

Trying not to laugh, I asked her, "Don't you think the highlights cover my gray?"

"You don't have gray! I can't BELIEVE you did that! I hate it, no offense".

Needless to say my daughter is very opinionated.

The next day I went to the drugstore to buy some new make-up that would be easy to apply in the morning. I'm not a big fan of lipstick but my lips are nondescript so I bought some. I knew this would add to my new look. Sure enough all the lines in my face disappeared and I looked fresher and more vibrant (..sounds like a commercial). I went proudly downstairs

"Are you wearing lipstick Mom?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact I am", I said smiling.

"Well, it doesn't look any different, no offense", was her observation.

I guess the most important thing is that no matter what I look like my family still loves me. I'll still try to make myself look younger, but I won't take forever applying make-up and doing my hair. I don't have the patience.

Maybe someday my daughter will give up the mismatched socks and the outfits that don't go together at all. Maybe someday she won't look like a waif.

No offense.