It didn't occur to me quite away because, frankly it wasn't needed. It occurred to me when Bar Mitzvahzilla went from being a smooth-faced twelve-year-old several years ago, into a raging, hormonal thirteen-year-old. And then the pimples came.
It was a normal night. The kids were up too late. The husband causing a ruckus in the house because those same kids had managed to mess up the house in the most minute ways; ways that seemed intended to drive us to the brink of insanity. I was hiding in my office, trying to get some writing done and wondering - lamenting - why my office didn't have a door. Oh yeah, I know. Because it's the living room.
Then Bar Mitzvahzilla marched in for a goodnight kiss. No knocking because, of course, there was no door. He presented a face full of pimples for me to kiss. And I, of course, kissed the pimples.
It's not like I spent my life purposely kissing pimples. The common wisdom when I was heading into high school was that you could catch these things if you made out with a boy who had them. Since I already had enough of them to send makeup counter ladies running in horror from their stations in the mall, I wasn't going to purposely rub faces with someone who had worse pimples than me. There was also all the other stuff we believed about our skin right then: chocolate causes pimples. Rubbing alcohol will cure pimples (topically, not as a drink...). Use a blackhead popper on your pimples (hello, scarring!). We even believed that one day soon we'd grow out of them.
And, just like my nascent belief, as a teenager, in the fact that a ten-pound weight loss could change my life, I also believed that if I strategized just right, I could declare war on the pimples, and fix my social life.
I don't think Bar Mitzvahzilla was philosophizing quite as much as I had, as an adolescent girl. But he did march into my office for a kiss. So here's my motto, reiterated in case you missed it, used in the fullness of loving parenthood: Kiss the Pimples. And then get that kid to a dermatologist.
Any horrible acne stories from your youth? Archaic beliefs or practices? Any experience with this situation? Anyone else spend a lot of time in the dermatologist's office and not for Botox and Juvederm?
Linda Pressman, Author of Looking Up: A Memoir of Sisters, Survivors and Skokie
available on Amazon, Kindle, Barnes and Noble.com, libraries and other retailers
Just this year, Awesome Stepkid R. has been afflicted with the dreaded acne. It's gross! And yes, I immediately took him to a derm. Life's too short to live with spots!
ReplyDeleteI had a wonderful complexion until the migraines set in. They are caused by a hormonal imbalance. So... now ~ as an adult ~ I have troublesome acne. Uggghhh.
ReplyDeleteIn college I had horrible acne. Scarring, physically and emotionally. At the first sign of zits I rushed my boys to the derm but fortunately neither got my bad skin genes:)
ReplyDeleteTKW, my son's on his 2nd course of what's supposed to cure it, but I'm happy now they don't have to suffer the consequences of the scarring (just the side effects of the medication...)
ReplyDeleteI didn't have acne issues, but my husband did..My grandmother told me to put toothpaste on the occasional blemish that would appear. I am fearful of what awaits me with three boys...Adventures in dermatology?
ReplyDeleteRobin, That brings to mind how old you can actually get and still have this stuff! Why does everyone act like it's a symptom of adolescence. Hormones are right. I think mine are safely gone now!
ReplyDeleteKaren, the one time I used my sister's "magical" blackhead popper I ended up with a hole in my face! I'd say overall there's a roughness to my face that you wouldn't see on a kid now, but it's a little terrifying when I look at my son's medicine and there are skulls and crossbones on it. Let's put it this way: I'm glad he's a boy and not able to get pregnant...
ReplyDeleteMaria, toothpaste, hmmm. I guess as far as specialists, it matters how bad it is. No kid should have to scar anymore and there are a lot of things we started off with before the scary meds, like special soaps and ointments that would have worked on, um, lesser zits! First rule (like I lecture my kids) cleanliness!
ReplyDeleteHa! I didn't have acne issues as a teen, and my kids have been (relatively well) spared. But I will say - kissing a face speckled with teen stubble is a surprise... (And they're quite entertaining when they decide it's time to learn to shave...)
ReplyDeleteNope, no one helped me with my acne other than being reminded to to wash my face and my mother buying Sea Breeze by the buckets (which STINGS like crazy!) And when I hit my twenties I was ecstatic they went away and when I hit my thirties, they came back again. It's cruel, really.
ReplyDeleteBLW, I don't know where he gets this (Cossack ancestor???) but my son is strangely blonde-stubbled! My husband is in charge of the whole shaving tutorial thing while I do double duty with the female adolescent...
ReplyDeleteJennifer, Sea Breeze? Ouch. I used bottles of undiluted rubbing alcohol... And what's with the resurgence of them as adults? I mean, now I'm looking at pimples AND wrinkles!
ReplyDeleteEvery night I ask the same questions...did you scrub your face? Did you use your Stridex? Then I stare at my son's nose. Poor kid. I am playing the waiting game to see if he gets more than blackheads before I drag him to the dermatologist. But that day is coming...
ReplyDeleteAnon (is that you, Debi?), I'm so blind I thought my daughter had freckles till I looked t her up close! I remember walking around like that too, which makes it generational!
ReplyDeleteI've got pimples and wrinkles, too - life isn't fair!!! But it's nice to know teen-aged boys still want a good night kiss from mom :)
ReplyDeleteLisa, Pimples and wrinkles at the same time is some cruel joke, isn't it? :) And I guess I should be happy that they face was presented to me in all its glory so many times, you're right!
ReplyDelete