I'm jealous of my daughter. She has the most gorgeous skin. It's smooth, and it has no (well, very, very few) scars or freckles or moles. If people really turned green with envy, I would have an even bigger skin problem.
I spend a lot of time thinking about my skin. The stretch marks on my stomach from being pregnant. I slathered on the cocoa butter during and after my pregnancy, but I still have stretch marks. I even got them on my thighs. My thighs! I wasn't carrying the baby there. Obviously I carried some extra weight there, though.
I have scars here and there, although I will confess that some of them provide some fun stories, like the time I was five and went down the firemans pole...face first...without using the pole.
I also have zits now. I did not have them growing up. What is the cruel trick of nature that I didn't have them at 16, but get them in my thirties?
But the thing that gets me most is the spots. I have dark spots appearing on my face. Are they age spots already? Freckles? Scars turned dark? I have one on the side of my nose that I have tried all manner of creams to get rid of. I tried soaking a Q-tip in hydrogen peroxide and applying to the spot twice a day. I tried this Avon product that mysteriously called itself a "laser," but when I opened the tube it was a rather large roller ball - like the kind you get with some lip glosses. It provided neither laser precision, nor laser-like results. The spot is still there. And has not faded at all. Every now and then I see an article in a magazine and think "maybe that will work..." but really, I've pretty much given up hope.
This does not keep me from sighing every time I look at it in the mirror. I'm working on acceptance. It is not easy.
And so I carefully slather my daughter with sunscreen every time we hit the pool, in hopes that her skin will stay so perfect. But surely, someday, she'll have a drawer full of useless gypsy potion creams as well.