From the Mouths of Babes...

My beautiful twins have turned nine, and with this age (I'm discovering) comes some changes!  Like the sudden need for privacy, the awareness of the amount of hair on our legs (and why's mine darker than everybody else's mom?)  And yes, let's not forget the onset of pimples!

Of course I knew this day was coming, but I just don't feel equipped to handle the trials pimples can bring.  I recall my own sprinkled face throughout adolescence (how could I forget!)  Between my black heads, white heads, and exasperated red blotches, that by the way always seemed to surface (and resurface, and resurface) in the same spots...upper lip, right below my nose...center forehead (lest anyone MISSED it...) my black spotted nose, exhibiting the black heads from h-e-double hockey sticks...of course I moaned and groaned to my mother who was more than sympathetic having gone through the same when she was younger.  It seemed to me there was no one who had as many pimples as I did.  In fact, one of my good friends got one (it was the biggest, greenest zit I had ever seen - I think it was the only zit she ever got...) and actually came to me for advice.  "Bethany, you're the expert on zits, what do I do?"  She was a bit confused...I was an expert on how to get zits, not how to get rid of them!

Within a few days her lone zit disappeared and like I said I don't recall ever seeing one on her face again, meanwhile mine continued to blossom and sprout like weeds in my garden!  Unmanageable and very irritating to look at.  My only hope was the thought that I would eventually grow out of it, because you know, adults don't get zits!  (Foolish, foolish girl...)



So, back to my daughter who has developed her very first pimple at the top of nose - her very first white head...I'm so proud!  There she stood at the bathroom mirror, just as I did, fretting about how awful it looks, and my heart was breaking for my baby girl.  I'm hoping, wishing, praying that she doesn't take after her mother, that she doesn't have to suffer through what I suffered through (though I survived...) and feeling an overwhelming amount of compassion and support I attempted to make her feel better...."It's okay sweetheart, it's not so bad, we all get them.  I have a pimple."  I say with all the gentleness and love, and support I could muster.  To which she replies matter of factly,

"You have a lot more than just one mom."

OUCH!