Our outdoor thermometer currently reads 98’F. Being that it is not even 12:30, one can only assume this is not the high point. There is a large part of me that wants to put on a bikini, lay in our hammock, read, and brown myself up. Unfortunately, slowly and sneakily, there also now exists a part of me which warns against melanoma and what I commonly refer to as ‘Old Face’. This part of me did not exist in my early 20’s. In my mid-20’s I began to apply SPF 8 or 15. Which is basically… lotion. I now own SPF 50. It makes me a little sick honestly. Just not sick enough to want to trade lovely brown skin for Old(er) Face. So what’s a 30 something girl to do?
You spray on some SPF 30, trust that your skin will adapt like those foundation creams that match your face as you rub them on, and know how to block the *&$% out of melanoma while simultaneously allowing your pasty, pasty skin to darken enough to at least MINIMALLY hide the spider veins on your legs which are by FAR more depressing than the SPF 50 calling to you from the closet. Then, you take your kid outside to the blue plastic pool filled with a mixture of hose water, pee, dirt from the dog walking in it, and dead gnats, and tell yourself that sitting out in the sun is just a sacrifice you have to make to be an awesome mom. Tanning is just a BY PRODUCT. Obviously.