Wrinkle that Forehead Proudly!

I don't mind telling you, I no longer strive to be Superwoman! Or Wonder Woman either, though I like the bracelets. Right now I can name probably 20 women I know who do more than any one human being should do on a daily basis. Among the duties are driving kids in carpool, working full time, cooking meals, grocery shopping, caring for aging parents, home and/or car maintenance (whether or not there is a spouse), accountant, nurse, fashion consultant, the Dear Abbey of her circle, Sunday school teacher, travel planner for the household, and the list goes on and on.Which brings me to my day's topic. Why is it that for some, all of that accomplishment and service is not enough? Now the pressure is ON to inject poison into your forehead and inflate your lips like an innertube. And don't be happy unless your teeth are blue-white and all curvular areas of your body are symmetrical.No offense to the board certified plastic surgeons out there. I am grateful to the ones who carefully removed my previous skin cancers and saved my life. And I'm especially grateful to the ones who are skilled at healing the disfigured and helping to restore their confidence. I do believe there are very good reasons for plastic surgeries and would like to go on record as saying so.That said, it is a peeve of mine to see stars on television whose eyebrows don't lift when they laugh, or who have to cover their mouth when they smile because their lips don't move. (Anyone see Priscilla Presley recently?) And if I never saw another puffy mouth again, my life would be no less rich.The other day as I was putting on my makeup and dabbing it here and there with wrinkle-filler, I came to the conclusion that my looks are not as distinctive as they once were. There seems to be a phase of life from about age 3 to the late 30's when we each look very uniquely "us." Think about it. Newborn babies look very much alike, and continue to look alike until around 6-12 months. Oh yes, you can tell them apart, but they generally all have smooth skin, button noses, little round faces, little to no hair whose color is yet undetermined, they don't walk and they all dress alike. Then there is the other end of life. Elderly people all have gray hair, most wear glasses, the skin is wrinkled, and they dress alike. If God had a reason to bring us into the world as look-alike babies, I trust that he has an equally good reason to take us out (should we live long enough) as beings with the experience of life written on our faces.
I'm not a Jamie Lee Curtis, cut-all-your-hair-off and let-the-gray-hang-out kind of earth mother. On the contrary, my philosophy has been and will continue to be that if you can spray it on or rub it in, it is fair game. (Thank you, Miss Clairol!) But when I think of my precious grandmother whose wrinkled smile and hearty laugh could light up a room, poofing the lips and pulling my face up into a knot seems far less important than bringing light and encouragement to other people. I would rather my epitaph say something like "She was really neat!" than "Her eyebrows never moved!"
So to all of the Wonder Women out there who feel any less important because you may have circles under your eyes from lack of sleep or your lipstick feathers more than it used to, I lift my bracelets in salute! You earned every bit of it and I hope you will wear it proudly! (Unless of course there is something you can easily rub in or spray on...) ;-)