Ms. Sally Hansen 1, Momma 0

Hey kids,

Momma got a new camera this week, that allows me to do this:


Testing, testing. And for the record, that daddy's Peach Cobbler Ben and Jerry's in the background, not mine.

The old camera probably let me take video, too, I just never read the instruction manual. I also took this Pulitzer-worthy action shot:


It's the photo they'll use on the news after the neighbors turn us in for underage use of a Slip 'n Slide.

So here's what I don't have photos of: I have hair, on my upper lip. I refuse to call it a "mustache," as it is not Magnum P.I.-ish enough to label it as such. Yet. As I've gotten older, it's gotten worse. I blame it all on you kids. Anyway, I've kept it in check with an occasional little home wax jobber. But I came across a cream product at the store yesterday that promised pain-free, wax-free, trouble-free removal of facial hair.

Here's the culprit:



Per the instructions, I tried a little test patch on the inside of my elbow the night before, and I had no reaction whatsoever. So this morning I applied the cream to my aforementioned trouble spot as Wavy sat in the empty bathtub and watched (Wavy spends lots of time in the bathroom with me that way, keeps her from roaming free and she gets to chew on all of Jake's favorite bath toys).

I waited the prescribed amount of time, with no ill effects. Then I began to swab away the cream with a moistened cotton ball. Oy. I think about three layers of skin wiped right off and fell in the sink.

So I've been sequestered in the house all day with what appears to be third-degree burns all across my upper lip. I can't possible leave the house looking like this. Plus it hurts like hell. Daddy's been kind and says it looks much better tonight, but he's lying. I can tell by the way he cringes when he says it.

I'm just so ... embarassed. You can't explain away something like this. I obviously didn't fall down. I obviously didn't run into a lamp post. No, that gal from the downstairs corner cube obviously tried to do something about that horrid 'stache she sports, and failed miserably. Look at her! I mean, really.

Anyway, thanks so much B and MamaSutra for your kind comments regarding my new diagnosis. I still don't know how to react to this. Or if any kind of reaction at all is called for. I told the doctor last week that I have had friends labeled bipolar before, and even though I loved them dearly, they were quite certifiable, and I had never felt myself to be as loony as they are. Supposedly that's the difference between I and II.

I asked the doctor if she thought it may be a post-partum thing, and she said that if it was, I would've found myself in her office much sooner than I had. Which I guess I agree with. She said she also suspects that I've been this way since high school. Which I whole-heartedly agree with. We'll see how things shake out after seeing the endocrine guy at the end of the month.

Hopefully, kids, momma will be more presentable tomorrow, and we can leave the house and do something fun. Love you!