aging

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You Look Tired

“You look tired.” That has to be one of the most irritating sentences ever uttered, no? I mean, it’s not HELPFUL. And if you ARE tired, which you probably are, it just makes you ALSO feel like you look like a used dishrag, which is not the look anyone is trying to achieve. 

A family member used to say that to me almost every time we got together, to the point that there became a need for A Conversation. Fortunately, the commentary has since stopped.

It’s a good thing we are not planning to see this family member anytime soon, because the commentary would be ACCURATE. These days, I feel like I just look SO TIRED. This is probably because I AM tired, even though there is no real reason for being so tired. I lead a low-stress life; I typically go to bed at a reasonable time and rise for the day at a reasonable time; I should be perky and well-rested. 

The thing is, I am NOT. This is in large part because I am a terrible sleeper, and I am trying to work on that. I read a really fascinating article recently, about why so many of us are waking up at 3:00 am every night. You do this too, right? I do. Whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, I can be pretty sure it will be at 3:00 or 4:30. Sometimes both. The aforementioned article has some insights and potential fixes that I plan to implement, but right now I’m more concerned with the aesthetic impact. 

I have always sported dark undereye circles; that’s just how my face is designed. (This is why the Tula Rose Glow cooling balm is one of my longtime favorite cosmetics.) But lately, I feel like the tired look has become exponentially worse.

For one thing, my eyes are super puffy for the first few hours of the day – like my eyelids have decided to provide their own cozy comforters for the night and are declining to put them away once I wake up. Plus, the crows feet at the sides of my eyes are SO aggressive these days. I keep thinking that they are sleep wrinkles, from pressing my face into one position on the pillow for too long. But… I am beginning to realize they may just be WRINKLE wrinkles. 

Also, I have developed wrinkles across the bridge of my nose, that extend over onto my upper eyelids, like my body is etching its own goggles onto my skin.

Listen, I want very much to be able to wholeheartedly embrace Nicole’s pro-aging philosophy. And in general, I do. But when it comes to whatever is going on with my eye area? I am a fan of NONE of it. Not one thing. 

We live in 2024. There MUST be products that can address these problems and, if not improve them, at least make me feel like I’m Taking Action. (I do wear sunscreen on my face, and I have been moisturizing with Bag Balm, per recommendations from, I think, Birchie and Elisabeth, so I am taking some preventative action already.)

I recently read about these silicone anti-wrinkle patches and they are at a price point that makes me feel pretty strongly about giving them a try. They have options to address forehead wrinkles and mouth wrinkles and undereye wrinkles and hand wrinkles and more, but nothing for the crows feet area. 

From a brief foray into wrinkly eye area remedies, it really sounds like retinol is the best option… but I’ve had Issues with retinol in the past, so I’m reluctant to give it a try. 

I would give some eye masks a go, though. These undereye gel patches get good reviews and have peptides which are supposed to help moisturize and smooth fine lines. Maybe a cooling eye mask would be good, too, especially because I am more self-conscious about my upper-eye puffiness. 

Beyond those things, it looks like the only options are more invasive, like lasers or Botox or fillers. And maybe I need to explore those ideas… but the thought of doing so makes me even more tired. 

What are you doing to keep yourself from looking like you haven’t slept in ten years? Tell me all your secrets – even those that involve retinol or Botox. 

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Thursday Randomosity: Hot Sauce and Gravel Edition

We are cartwheeling down the last grassy hills of summer – exhilarated, off-kilter, trying to soak up as much summertime fun and relaxation as possible before school begins (Fifth grade. FIFTH. GRADE. Eeep.) while also dealing with all the chaos of moving. My mind is going in a million different directions, which calls for some Randomosity.

We finally told our neighbors that we were moving. I don’t know why we waited, but we did. But we thought we should give people a heads up before the realtor stuck the for sale sign in our yard. The ones we told were a gratifying mix of sad that we are leaving and excited for us. One neighbor seemed genuinely distraught, but when I told her that we’ll be moving to a neighborhood where there are other ten-year-olds on all sides, she visibly relaxed. “Oh, I’m so glad,” she told me. “Every time a house on our block went up for sale, I used to pray that the new family would have someone her age to play with.” I found this so touching – that she would not just think about Carla, but that she would go out of her way to pray for her. This is the kind of neighbors we have. This is why I have such mixed feelings about moving away.

Our house has never looked better. We cleaned and tidied our house to the hilt for the realtor photos and it looks SO GOOD. It has never looked this good. It is impossible to keep this way. Poor Carla. She has been enjoying a TON of screen time because she can’t do anything to make a mess. So much of our stuff has been put away for the sake of tidiness, too. Our realtor specified that we needed to clear off the counters as much as possible, so in the kitchen I had to hide my tea kettle away along with the paper towel holder and the dish scraper and the hand towels. In the bathrooms, we have to put all the shower items (shampoo, conditioner, face wash, razors) under the sinks and swap out our normal towels for “pretty towels” (which I interpreted to mean The Guest Towels, because I am not buying new towels for the sake of aesthetics). All of our chargers have been relegated to the nightstand drawers. Makes normal day-to-day living a little awkward. 

Never have I been so thankful for my zooper. It is getting SUCH a workout. Potential buyers seem to completely ignore the sign we put up inside the front door that says “please remove your shoes or wear these foot covers.” I can tell because none of the shoe covers have been used (although I suppose people could be removing their shoes). And there is constantly grass and bits of dirt and other debris all over the floor. I am zooping all the time. Plus, I shed CONSTANTLY. I knew this about myself, but now that I have to tidy everything ALL THE TIME I am newly aware of how hairs seem to leap off of my skull every time I move. Thank goodness that my beloved zooper seems to have no problem sucking up the rogue hairs. 

It is also good at sucking up gravel. Yes, gravel. I picked up our paper towel holder (similar to this one, if you want to picture what it looks like) to move it from the counter into the pantry where all the shameful things go and the bottom sort of dropped out. Later, when I told my husband what happened, he said, “Oh, that’s probably because I dropped it the other day.” The weird thing was: it was full of gravel. GRAVEL. Like, that’s the weight that the manufacturers used to fill the base. I guess it makes a sort of sense? Maybe gravel isn’t particularly expensive, and maybe it’s easy to access, and it is heavy. But what a weird thing to put inside a paper towel holder, amirite?!?!?! And the gravel got all over my kitchen. Everywhere. Fifteen minutes before Carla and I were supposed to leave for a showing. 

One of Carla’s favorite birthday gifts was a dinosaur mask. I can’t remember if I told you this already? If so, you will just smile and nod through the retelling while you think of other things, yes? My husband and I got her these Therzinosaurus claws because she had specifically requested them. I guess a friend of hers had them? And she was excited to have them, but kept asking, “What about the mask?” (This friend apparently had the mask, too.) So we went to Target and she was able to spend some birthday money on the matching mask. The mask and claws come as a set, too; not sure why we didn’t get her the whole set to begin with. To be completely honest with you, I thought it was kind of a dumb present. But she asked for it, and I’m not sure how much longer she will want to play with toys, so we indulged the request. And I was WRONG. It is an awesome gift. The mask attaches to your face in such a way that the jaws open when the wearer’s jaws open. And the claws go on over top of the hands, so your fingers are still free to do things. It is VERY cool and I think any dinosaur loving kiddo would love it. 

I need to find a new favorite hot sauce. There has been a sriracha shortage for more than a year now, and I ordered a few bottles of my favorite sriracha sauce (Huy Fong) every few months while they were still available online, hoping to wait out the weather conditions that devastated chili crops and stopped production. But I am now on my last bottle. I am finally coming to terms with the fact that I will need to find a new favorite hot sauce. It’s sad, because it is really the perfect hot sauce. Sriracha is by far my most-used condiment. I eat it on tacos and salads and put it in stir fry sauce. This doesn’t convey just how dependent I am on sriracha sauce. We eat tacos pretty regularly, and I cannot eat a taco without hot sauce. Hot sauce is an essential ingredient. Although I haven’t been looking very hard for a replacement, I have tried some store brands of sriracha with no luck. Now that I’m on my last bottle of the real thing, I need to step up my search. I think that I need something that is not pretending to be sriracha.  El Yucateco is my go-to hot sauce for enchiladas and nachos, but it’s too intense for me to put on tacos. Cholula is wonderful on burritos and black beans and rice, but I don’t like the way it tastes with ground beef. The Ortega and Old El Paso taco sauces are okay in a pinch, but not my favorite. Before sriracha came into my life, I used La Victoria hot sauce on my tacos. I suppose I could return to that, even though it’s not as spicy. But maybe this is an opportunity to try NEW hot sauces. I have read a few “There’s a sriracha shortage, try these alternatives” articles and none of them has been helpful. (It turns out that I am extremely choosy about hot sauce. Chile crisp and sambal oelek are textured, not smooth; Tabasco is thin and vinegary. None of these are adequate sriracha substitutes, even if they have their place.) But hot sauce is expensive and it’s hard to know where to start. Do you have a favorite hot sauce? 

What non-essential-for-nutrition-or-life food item, if suddenly unavailable, would leave you feeling most bereft? Sriracha is mine, I think. My husband would probably choose peanut butter. My daughter would probably say ketchup – I don’t think she could live without ketchup. Do you have something you use ALL the time, or love so much that you would feel lost without it?

Speaking of food, as I usually am, I have reached the stage of packing where food preparation is becoming slightly tricky. I have been trying to pack away non-essentials, and have already put together several boxes of kitchen items. This came back to bite me this week when I tried to make paprikas and realized that I had packed the potato peeler. Hmm. Why did you do that, Past Suzanne? True, this is probably the one meal (besides Thanksgiving) that requires a potato peeler, but still. So I had to peel potatoes with a knife and it was not nearly so easy. Then I decided I was going to make muffins for my writing group. (One writing friend has moved to the city for the summer, so my regular writing buddy and I invited him to join us.) But… I had already packed away the muffin tins. THEN I looked for Carla’s dinosaur taco holder for taco night, and… I had already packed it. Womp womp. I wonder what essential non-essential cooking item I will need and be unable to use next. 

My hair is driving me bonkers. It’s been nearly four months since I last had my hair colored, and boy can you tell. The grey is really insidious, creeping in around my ears and in patches at the crown of my head. The worst part, for me, is that the way the grey grows in, it makes me look like I am balding. My hair parts naturally on the right side of my head, kind of at the outer edge of my right eyebrow. But the hair on the bottom side of the part is so pale that it looks like scalp. I don’t think it IS scalp, although it could be that my hair is also quite thin in that spot (gulp!), but whatever is going on, it doesn’t look good. I have been increasingly self-conscious in photos, to the point that I have begun parting my hair on the other side of my head. This is WEIRD. It looks weird, it feels weird. My hair flips up where it shouldn’t. But at least I look less bald, I guess. 

In other aging news, I have a new wrinkle. Wrinkle is kind of a charming word – that bright cheery i, the fun tongue-trip of nkle. But the object it refers to is less charming. This one is kind of like a double frown that bridges the inner corner of each eye over the top of my nose. I do not care for it. Also, I can’t figure out what facial expression is CAUSING it. If I knew what face I was making to develop this wrinkle, I would STOP DOING IT. I have sort of decided that it has something to do with my daily 3:00-5:00 am wakeup, because the wrinkle sometimes stretches over my eyelids into the portion that is swollen from lack of sleep. But I can’t correct THAT, lo how I’ve tried.

My husband and I have discovered a sad truth: we should have done a lot of these home improvements EARLIER, so we could ENJOY THEM. We have been enlisting a lot of professional help to get our home into selling shape, but we have also pulled out the old DIY artillery as well. He and I are GOOD at DIYing, and by “he and I” I mean that I am good at persuading him we can do a thing and then he is good at executing it. (DIY projects require a lot of skills that I lack, like patience and the ability to paint/cut/hang a straight line.) (I am, however, extremely good at driving to Home Depot and buying supplies.) One thing we did this weekend was to replace nearly all of our window screens. I am embarrassed to tell you the state of our screens, but they were ROUGH. And I have no idea why we never even EXPLORED the option of fixing them. Never! I mean, four or five years ago when I was determined to replace our windows, I guess I figured we’d replace the screens too… but beyond that, I never once thought about them except to lament the fact that if we wanted cool, fresh air in our bedroom at night we would also have to welcome a few bugs. The thing is, replacing screens is SUPER EASY. And inexpensive! I have gotten many, many quotes for screen replacement and they range from $42 per screen on the high end to $25 per screen on the low end. But we did it ourselves and it took maybe three hours and about $60 to replace seven screens. This has been the case for EVERY IMPROVEMENT we have done. Why did we wait until the literal last minute?!? When we move into the new house, I have vowed – to my husband, and now publicly – that we will fix things right away, not let them fester for a decade or two until we plan to move out. 

Do companies ever listen to their own hold music? This question is brought to you by being on hold for 26 minutes with the electric company as I waited for a human to help me transfer our service to the new house. My local hospital system has a pretty decent hold line – music, regularly interrupted by brief ads for critical health services, like “make sure you get your colonoscopy!” or “regular skin checks are a great way to identify skin cancer early!” That kind of thing. But the electric company’s hold music is NOT good. It vacillated wildly between normal volume and way too loud. When it got loud, it was full of static. And the “song” that kept playing on repeat would stop abruptly as though a customer service agent were finally going to answer my call, and then start playing again from the beginning. 

Have I mentioned how much I hate the idea of strangers TOUCHING my THINGS? Every time we get home after realtor showings, I feel like I should Lysol every possible surface people might have touched. Yuck. 

Okay, that’s it for now I think. What’s on your mind today?

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Monday Randomosity: Internet Advice and Thought-Dogs Edition

It is rainy, I am grumpy. I don’t feel like making a list of things to make for dinner. My brain, these past few days, has been like one of those dog walkers you sometimes see in big cities, you know – the ones that can walk like six or ten dogs at once? Except my brain is not doing well with the dog walking, and all the thought-dogs are, like, chasing after squirrels, or biting each other, or wagging their tails hopefully at people trying to pass, or lying down because they Just Can’t anymore, or winding their leashes around their own legs until they are all tangled up, or sniffing at trees, or peeing on things. What I’m trying to say is, there’s a lot of chaos and distraction, thought-wise. And, yes, the thought equivalent of excrement. 

So let’s try to untangle some leashes and return some of these overwrought metaphors to their owners, shall we?

  • Overwhelmed: Your advice blew me away the other day. I read each comment on my post intently and took notes and felt, with every comment, so incredibly grateful for you for taking the time to address my silly non-problems. Oh, how I would love to have a girls’ weekend with YOU. We could extend it by a few or ten days so we could fit in ALL the amazing things you suggested. I was so overwhelmed by everyone’s kindness and thoroughness and wonderful ideas that I wasn’t even sure how to respond. THANK YOU. I am so lucky. 
  • Girls’ Trip Update Already: Using as much of your advice as possible, I put together a list of five suggestions for the girls’ trip and sent them to one of the stakeholders of the girls’ trip. She vetoed them all. So. I am kind of thinking maybe it is now her girls’ trip to plan????
  • Disappearing Emails: I keep writing and sending emails… and they disappear. This happened a couple of times specifically to emails I wrote to my father in the middle of the night. (When you wake up at 3:30 am, you write emails to your parents too, right?) But because of the timing, I sort of dismissed the disappearances – maybe I dreamed the emails??? But I sent an email yesterday that I was very much awake for, and it just… disappeared. Not in a draft anywhere. Not in an outbox. Not in a sent folder. Very odd. It’s not like it was even an objectionable email – like, I could see (see, but not approve of) my email becoming sentient and deciding, no, you don’t want to say that. I’m going to quietly step in and stop you from sending something inadvisable. But this was a NOTHING email. A fact email. There wasn’t even any issue with TONE. 
  • Listen, Hug, Advise: I saw this advice floating around Instagram as a parenting technique. Instead of jumping in to help your kid, you ask, “Do you want me to listen? Do you need a hug? Or do you need help?” Great advice, and something I have tried to incorporate into my interactions with Carla. But it wasn’t until a friend applied it to me that I realized this has applications for adults as well. I told her that sometimes I worry that I treat her like a therapist, and it makes me feel guilty – and she said that maybe I felt that way because she sometimes leans toward giving advice. She said that she understands that sometimes a friend just needs to vent, and said she described the “listen, hug, advise” technique to me and said she would appreciate and welcome it if I said I needed one or the other specifically. (She is a very lovely person.) I found this to be such a useful reframing. This is not just a technique for children! Even though I want simply to vent or be comforted 90% of the time, I still tend to jump in with advice when other people share their own problems with me. So I am going to try to do more asking of what people need, rather than assuming they need my non-existent expertise.
  • Skin Drama: I have complained bitterly about my skin here before. Earlier this year, I was diagnosed with a type of rosacea that causes pustules and red, swollen bumps. I have been treating this with prescription cream. Last week, my face positively ERUPTED and I am miserable. MISERABLE. The blemishes are painful and/or itchy, but also they make me incredibly self-conscious. I mean, I have a fairly prominent facial scar that I carry around with me every day, so I’m somewhat used to stares anyway, but this is SO MUCH WORSE. I look like I have the pox. I was very lucky to have very few skin issues when I was a teen, and this makes me feel so full of empathy and outrage for teenagers. At least I, an adult, can use coping thoughts like, “everyone deals with this” and “most people don’t notice, or if they do notice it is in the same passing way they notice your hair color or whether you have jam on your shirt” and “this is temporary”! At least I can be relatively certain that my peers won’t tease me or call out my appearance or give me awful nicknames! How is this an affliction that young people deal with on the regular?! I am having to FORCE myself to go out in public. I had An Event to attend a few days ago, and I did not want to go. But obviously did, because I had made a commitment and because I want to be a good role model for Carla. (It was fine. I wore cute clothes, did my hair, wore glasses to hopefully distract from the state of my face, and put some coverup on the worst blemishes even though I was afraid that it would make them worse.) I have also put in a call to my dermatologist to say WHAT IS HAPPENING and I am hopeful he will have some suggestions. This is mainly a “just venting” post, because everyone’s skin is different and because at this point I will probably only do what my dermatologist suggests, but of course if you also have papulopustular rosacea I would love to hear what has worked for you, and I would love to hear any thoughts about Going In Public When You Don’t Want To.
  • Aging Disparity: Clearly, this skin thing is a result of my advancing age; it is apparently a Known Thing that can develop during perimenopause. It’s just the latest example of my forties not going great, health wise. I mean, I am very blessed with overall good health. I do recognize that. But the plantar fasciitis and the skin thing and a couple of other small things I have yet to check out so therefore don’t know if they are just Regular Things For People Of This Age Group or Things We Should Treat make me kind of disgusted with this decade already. Then there’s my husband, who is six months my senior. He is having NONE of these issues! He is getting better and more appealing by the day. His patients compliment his hair. He has been trying to lose a little weight, and it seems to just fall off. He has been biking a lot and his calves are, well, they are beautiful. He has always had nice legs, but I didn’t even know I found calves attractive until he toned and chiseled them with all this biking. Ahem. Apologies for the tawdry turn. He does have a few more white beard hairs, but of course they just make him look distinguished or maybe a little less like he just graduated from medical school. His feet never hurt. He never has trouble sleeping. His face is handsome and clear. Even the gradual deepening of those little parallel lines between his eyebrows makes him look thoughtful and concerned rather than wrinkled. I am glad he is healthy and thriving (and attractive), don’t get me wrong. But IT IS DEEPLY UNFAIR.
  • Pity Party, Over. 
  • Dinners This Week: I suppose I really should think about what to make for dinner. Even if I really, really don’t want to. This sheet-pan miso honey chicken with asparagus sounds pretty good. I can work up some enthusiasm for this lemony cucumber couscous salad – maybe with some grilled shrimp? How about some chipotle pork chops with some sort of vegetable – broccoli, maybe?
  • Romance Novel: Recently, on the recommendation of Nicole, I read this book… which I LOVED… and immediately decided I want to write a romance novel. Even though I am not even a regular reader of romance novels, which seems like it would be a huge disadvantage when it comes to writing one. Even though I am 83K words into my thriller that I vowed to FINISH instead of getting distracted with a new project. So I have this whole idea for the romance novel sketched out – but the love interest hasn’t quite taken shape for me yet. There is definitely a very hot and intimidatingly smart veterinarian in town that he used to date, but why did they break up? Why is he still single? What is his Big Flaw? What is holding him back from being with our heroine? Also, I kind of need him to be independently wealthy; I’m not sure HOW it came to be that he doesn’t have to work, but it would be nice if it had something to do with why he resists falling in love with the protagonist. She is a widow, but ready to move on; maybe he also lost someone and is NOT ready to move on? But then… how does the main character bring him around? Hmmm. This is the fun part of writing. The thinking part. The part where the story unfolds nearly flawlessly in your head. The part where you have to WRITE IT DOWN is less fun, unfortunately.

Okay, I tried very hard to come up with a tenth bullet, but I don’t have it in me. We’ll all have to deal with only nine. Fortunately, nine is one of Carla’s favorite numbers, so I think she’d say that this was an ideal situation rather than a failure of imagination. 

What’s new with you today, this first day of May?