Laugh Lines
The same chap who took my school pictures when I was in high school has taken my staff picture in Maize for the last four years. He's pleasant enough, but I have to admit that I have never been a fan of school pictures--especially when I was working in three different buildings and had to get my picture taken three separate times in one school year. Every time this guy tells me to say "pay day," I feel like rolling my eyes rather than smiling. When he encourages me to tilt my head ever so slightly, I feel like telling him it's really not a good angle for me. But...I smile and wind up with a "teacher pack" of school pictures that I'm never crazy about.
This year, I was kind of caught off guard by my picture. I looked at it and saw someone who looked 30-ish, and I couldn't stifle the "what-the-heck?!" response that popped into my brain. I suppose I AM nearly 28. My face is aging--as it should--but it has been strange to see the changes from year to year. Specifically, this year I couldn't help but stare at the deep laugh lines (heck--call them what they are: wrinkles) by my right eye. How long have those things been there?
I never thought I'd care much about aging; never thought "laugh lines" would bother me. In my head--before they appeared on my face--I always thought there was something endearing about them, something that spoke of kindness, of joy. Now, though, I'm having to work at appreciating them. I'd like to have a healthy outlook; really, I would. I'd love to be able to view laugh lines as testimony to my blessings--not as testimony to my too-many nights of half-hearted face washing and non-use of moisturizer. I'm pretty close to over it, I think. Just give me another day or two...
Tonight, I let Anna stick her finger in the jar of Aquaphor ointment I keep by her bed. (Random, I know.) Sometimes before she goes to bed, I'll put some on her lips or on irrritated, red patches on her little face. Ever the imitator, she tried to smear her blob on my lips and missed. It coated my chin and neck. Aquaphor is some pretty heavy-duty stuff. It crossed my mind that I may not have such deep laugh lines had I smothered my face in Aquaphor every night for the past five years. It also crossed my mind that doing so may have caused angry raging acne or a plethora of other issues. Mostly, though, it crossed my mind that these obscure thoughts crossing my mind proves I need a good night's sleep. Good night, then.
This year, I was kind of caught off guard by my picture. I looked at it and saw someone who looked 30-ish, and I couldn't stifle the "what-the-heck?!" response that popped into my brain. I suppose I AM nearly 28. My face is aging--as it should--but it has been strange to see the changes from year to year. Specifically, this year I couldn't help but stare at the deep laugh lines (heck--call them what they are: wrinkles) by my right eye. How long have those things been there?
I never thought I'd care much about aging; never thought "laugh lines" would bother me. In my head--before they appeared on my face--I always thought there was something endearing about them, something that spoke of kindness, of joy. Now, though, I'm having to work at appreciating them. I'd like to have a healthy outlook; really, I would. I'd love to be able to view laugh lines as testimony to my blessings--not as testimony to my too-many nights of half-hearted face washing and non-use of moisturizer. I'm pretty close to over it, I think. Just give me another day or two...
Tonight, I let Anna stick her finger in the jar of Aquaphor ointment I keep by her bed. (Random, I know.) Sometimes before she goes to bed, I'll put some on her lips or on irrritated, red patches on her little face. Ever the imitator, she tried to smear her blob on my lips and missed. It coated my chin and neck. Aquaphor is some pretty heavy-duty stuff. It crossed my mind that I may not have such deep laugh lines had I smothered my face in Aquaphor every night for the past five years. It also crossed my mind that doing so may have caused angry raging acne or a plethora of other issues. Mostly, though, it crossed my mind that these obscure thoughts crossing my mind proves I need a good night's sleep. Good night, then.
Love it! I understand exactly what you're saying. I hope you're able to embrace the laugh lines on yourself as much as you do on others. And don't give into putting Aquaphor all over your face! :)
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