Vanity

We took our girls out shopping for some clothes the other day.  Hayley told me it was the greatest day of her life.

We bought some cute boots and some leggings (as well as a few other things) and they have been feeling like high class fashionistas ever since.  They look adorable.

Turns out that Tia's leggings weren't the best purchase however, as we noticed that they turn everything they TOUCH purple.  This morning we noticed that the insides of her boots were purple...her underwear was purple, her entire legs...purple.  She got in the bath and turned the bathwater purple.  And do you know what else?  The bath tub is now stained. Purple.
We have been all over the internet trying to figure out how to get the stains out.  Acetone, bleach, baking soda and vinegar.....the Magic Eraserrrrr (oooooh), but nothing has worked.  Jan-gyver...this is a plea to you, for help.   Legging stains are not my area of expertise.  Nor did I know such things existed.



Oh the high price of being fashionable... and of all things vain.
You know that one of the curses/side effects of my being pregnant with Ty was my lovely Melasma/face mask/mustache.   I have tried to not be vain, and think positive thoughts like, "It could be a lot worse than this. I could have no arms, and legs.  I could be dead."
But there comes a time when a woman has had enough of people staring at her upper lip,  wondering why the heck she doesn't just wax.  I have thought about wearing a sign that says "it's not what you think"  or "hellooo, my eyes are up here," ;)
So, in an attempt to re-feminize my face I recently spent $260 to get it peeled off.


The PCA peel which is what I purchased, is designed to happen in a series of 3.  Erica, my skin care consultant told me that Melasma is the hardest thing to treat because it runs so deep.  There are a lot of layers of skin to get through, so it will take time, and patience.
She lays me on her bed chair, which feels more like a cloud, and plays nature sounds while I close my eyes and slip into my happy place.  She layers my face with some kind of chemical and it burns.  She goes over again and again and it feels like my face is literally on fire.  It hurts so good.
"Just keep applying,"  I say.
"until it falls right off."
She cools my face by waving a chinese fan over it.  20 minutes later I'm done and hand her a $20 tip before walking out the door and praying that all that money didn't just go down the toilet.
She sends me away with several instructions.
"No exercising for a week!"  She said.  "No sweat."   "Stay OUT of the sun"  "Wear sunscreen everyday, all day for the rest of your life."  "Wear hats."

These are very difficult instructions for me to follow.  When I don't exercise I get cranky.  I sweat, I just do.  I LIVE outside in the sun, and I look hilarious in hats.  But I can and will apply sunscreen for the rest of my life, every day all day, if that is what is needed.

So far, there has been no change whatsoever in the hyperpigmentation on my face.  But even if there was, I have been told it would only be temporary.  If I remain on birth control pills, the hormones will act to increase the hyperpigmentation....If I get PREGnant, that stache is coming right back...possibly with a beard.  One day out in the sun will ruin everything that has been done to counteract the effects of these hormones.  Which leaves me the option of being a hermit in a dark cave, and practicing 100% abstinence.  (Please, like I could EVER live in a dark cave)  ;).

No fun...no sun...no more children...lots of $ spent...stressing, obsessing.
The high price of vanity.  I'm starting to conclude that in this case it may just not be worth it.
I have to teach myself that it is a mark to be proud of, as it represents my body growing the most adorable baby boy there ever was.  Right?

Meh.  I have one peel left and am requesting a bottle of bleaching cream for Christmas.....then maybe if THAT doesn't work I will go with that whole "I'm proud of my baby creating mustache" thing.  ;)