One day, I woke up and I was old. WTH happened?!
Homeschool Mom: I turn 45 years old in two months, and this is the first time I have ever noticed wrinkles and an extra six pounds that came from nowhere. I'm suddenly noticing that hey, I'm not 30 anymore. Who knew that you could go from 30 to 45 in a year?
Suddenly, I'm squinting at small print. I have weird things growing on my skin, called "skin tags." (My dermo was kind enough to tell me the name of the unsightly little buggers.) My laughlines are now truly "laugh road-grades" that no amount of soft lighting will disguise. Did I say I have gained weight, despite for the first time in my life actually trying not to?
It is so weird. I have fine lines around my mouth that fill with lip color, like magma running through volcanic fissures. I feel like Rip Van Wrinkle: I went to sleep for what I thought I was a night, but woke up and I was old. I have a kid in high school, for goodness sakes! Wasn't I just in high school?! When I meet up with old friends on Facebook, they say, "What have you been doing for the last 15 years?" Apparently, "getting old" is the answer.
Unfortunately, I don't have any discretionary cash to get things pulled and kneaded and paralyzed. So I'm considering having a midlife crisis and just doing it the homemade way. After all, I'm Homeschool Mom! I'm a homespun, folksy kinda gal, right? So here are my homemade alternatives to the typical Beverly Hills plastic surgery route:
• Instead of Botox, I can drill a hole in a can of pork of beans and leave it in the sun for a month. Voila: Enough botulism toxin to paralyze a whole city's worth of faces -- and then some.
• Instead of costly laser skin treatments, I can use the cat's toy: the laser pointer. It says you can burn your retinas out, so maybe it can rejuvenate skin as well.
• Instead of a facelift, I can have a whole-body lift by having my husband stand on a chair and pull my skin up from the skull and tie it into a big knot. People might even think it is a chic chignon.
• To lose those extra pounds, I could pull out all my teeth with my husband's wrench and replace them with sugar-free Tic Tacs. (I could even do orange for Halloween.) The kids would get a kick out of that. Then I wouldn't be able to chew, and it would save on teeth whitener and dentist visits.
• I could try poking anyone in the eye who looks too closely at my age-ravaged skin and body. Then they would only see a watery blur.
Or I could embrace my journey into crone-dom with a wrinkly smile. Maybe grandkids make it easier, like how a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down ....