Home > Humor, Nerd, Parenting > Dances with Facial Hair

Dances with Facial Hair

“You’ve got a few hairs going on there,” Anthony, my then-fiancee, pointed out while peering at my chin.

“Just a few? Well, that’s better than it could be, then!”

Our son joined in the conversation, asking, “Why does Mommy have hairs?”

“Well, son, when women have babies, their hormones change. So your mom had a baby and she started growing hair where she didn’t have it before . . .”

This statement caused me burst in to laughter then, and my shoulders are shaking again recalling it now.

“You’re so cute,” I told Anthony. “See, ’cause I’ve always had that hair. I just don’t have as much time to take care of it now that I’m a mom.”

This revelation seemed to surprise him, so I added that I’ve always been hairy. Even when I was a teen, my mom used to inspect my face, shaking her head and saying, “All that hair! It looks like you took after your dad’s side of the family.”

Based on my mom’s facial hair reflections, I find it eminently possible some of my forebears were gorillas. We’ve got the hair. We share prominent foreheads and chins. We are nothing if not sturdy.

Pregnancy me: "Tired but so much to do!" | Original photo courtesy Maggie F (hagaki-mawari.blogspot.com)

Pregnancy me: “Tired but so much to do!” | Original photo courtesy Maggie F (hagaki-mawari.blogspot.com)

Yes, my mom’s marital choices have left me with a legacy of hairiness. I’m more or less okay with it, and with people knowing about it, as long as they can’t actually see it with their own eyes. Or much of it, in any case.

It’s only times like now when I start feeling a little self conscious about my gorilla heritage.

You see, I’m waiting to wax. I’d gotten into a good cycle before my energy levels took a plummet, making a 30-minute trip to the spa seem like a climb up Kilamanjaro. I opted instead for a daily “worst offender” tweezer attack instead of taking time out one day to wax. This was gratifying in the short term but meant everything was growing out way out of synch. Which meant more time tweezing, or roughly fourteen hours a week I will never get back.

Now I have to wait. For the long-term appearance of manageable hairiness, I must embrace make peace with several days of hairiness.

mustachioed

My fingers are itching to tweeze. Just itching. But if I do that, I’m going to keep on doing that, and frankly, it’s a waste of time. I have meals to make. Monster commutes to undertake. The Good Wife episodes to watch.

So if you see me the next week or so, feel free to gaze deeply into my eyes instead of at the forest on my face. I won’t find it weird or creepy, promise. (At least, not if that’s the only unusual thing you’re doing. I’ll probably run if you’re licking your lips, or naked, or pausing in the middle to show me your iPhone library of knife collection pictures.)

I’ll simply take your eye-gazing as a sign you’re wishing me well on my short-term dance with visible hairiness. For some ladies, that dance starts at 45, or 50. For the lucky gorilla-descended few, that dance started around 12.

Maybe motherhood marks the hairiness horizon for some, but my son should know this gift was one I’d already been receiving a couple of decades before he came into me life–no matter what his dear, dearly misguided dad–bless his heart!–says to the contrary.

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  1. February 5, 2014 at 6:08 am

    Haha. My husband walked in on me with the white hair cream all over my mom beard the other day. Poor guy didn’t know how to react.

    • February 5, 2014 at 6:10 am

      I’ve been using that, too! Li’l D told me yesterday, “Your beard is pretty.” Hee.

      I’m using the super strength stuff, but I think I need the extra-super-duper strength stuff. I just don’t know where to buy it.

      • February 5, 2014 at 6:12 am

        I think you have to get that from North Korea. Pay cash… as I believe it’s illegal in the states 🙂

  2. February 5, 2014 at 6:15 am

    Cute, cute, cute. Your post and your hairs. :-p

    • February 5, 2014 at 6:28 am

      Thanks! After yesterday’s gloominess, I hoped I could start out today on a different note. So far, so good. 🙂

      • February 5, 2014 at 6:55 am

        I keep thinking we need another video chat session. Every now and then I impulsively pull up AA.com to look at flights. Time to visit again, methinks.

  3. February 5, 2014 at 6:19 am

    Mine definitely started after child birth. It might have been a coincidence, I’m not sure. I’ve never waxed and so far, the “worst offender” tweezing approach has been adequate. It started around my chin but I’ve started to notice some going on up the jaw. And it looks like the hairs above my lips are getting darker (but at least staying soft). I might have to look into bleaching them or something. It makes my husband laugh when he sees me plucking: “Shaving?” he’ll ask. Of course, he’s getting his own consequences. I have to shave his ears when I trim his hair and his eyebrows need a trim as well. Some of those hairs could almost reach his nose if you pulled them the right way!

    This was one of those shocking “why didn’t anyone tell me this was coming?” parts of womanhood for me. I felt like I was surely the only one until I got the nerve to say something to folks. This and incontinence when jumping or sneezing. My daughter will not go into adulthood unaware of such things. 🙂

    • February 5, 2014 at 6:30 am

      Reading your comment reminds me of a discussion I had a week or so ago with my also-pregnant younger sister. She commented it’s been much worse during pregnancy, and I got to thinking about how pregnancy sites tout how magical and luminous hair becomes during this period. What they fail to mention is that it’s not just the mane atop the head that’s impacted–oy!

      So, you know, I’d wager it probably has gotten worse since, though in my case it was pretty bad before.

      (If my next one’s a girl, she too will know what to expect!)

  4. February 5, 2014 at 6:27 am

    We might be related. My childhood nickname is monkey for reasons you just described. Yay hair-club-for-women!

    • February 5, 2014 at 6:30 am

      I’m glad it’s not just me! My sisters never got the “oy, how did you get to be so hairy?” questions from our mom. Just me. 😀

  5. Kay
    February 5, 2014 at 6:48 am

    I’m with you! My boyfriend just laughs and grabs the tweezers sometimes… it’s nice he cares! lol.

  6. February 5, 2014 at 7:23 am

    This made me laugh because I identify! I’ve been doing the “pluck a few everyday” routine for several years. This progressed to one of those little battery-operated trimmers. At least for a couple of days I am smooth. Then right before Christmas I bought one of those Emjoi Erasers that plucks in mass. Yikes! They said it would hurt the first time but would get better with use. I’m still waiting for that miracle to occur. It feels like all these little bee stings. It works fine on my legs. The face is another matter. It says it can be used on bikini area. Can you imagine???

    • February 5, 2014 at 7:38 pm

      The thought of that alone is terrifying! I’ll skip on experiencing the real thing. Ai ai ai . . .

      Your “waiting for that miracle” comment made me chuckle. I know that feeling, if not (yet!) in this particular scenario.

  7. February 5, 2014 at 7:24 am

    I was about to write “Sad, but true” but I’ll change it to “Silly, but true.” Forget the hairs, humor and silliness become you.
    At my house, tweezers disappear like water going down the drain. My excuse, anyway.

    • February 5, 2014 at 7:39 pm

      Why, thank you kindly! It’s nice to take a break from feeling frazzled and let loose something lighter.

      Speaking of tweezers and drains? There’s another reason tweezing isn’t happening right now . . .

  8. February 5, 2014 at 7:37 am

    Ha. Excellent post. I have a lot more hair post-pregnancy, too. Who has time! Love your gorilla pregnancy photo 🙂

    • February 5, 2014 at 7:40 pm

      In the ideal world, I’d be able to tend to that and everything else that ideals prefer done! In the real world, I’m glad to make it to the end of the day intact and with all household members fed. I’m sure I’ll get into the new swing of things before long, but that new swing probably won’t include big blocks of time for hair management. 😀

  9. February 5, 2014 at 8:03 am

    I have a scar on my upper lip from a DIY waxing incident. I tell people I cut myself shaving to deflect the story, because it seems so implausible. If they only knew…

  10. February 5, 2014 at 8:21 am

    My daughter caught me with white Nair on my face and was in total shock. Then she asked me why I don’t just shave like daddy does. I might have to start soon.

    • February 5, 2014 at 8:22 am

      Oh, I forgot to add I have sideburns now. Yep. Granted, it’s very light blonde hair but still. I’m thisclose to saying screw it and growing it all out because it’s the “in” thing now to have a beard.

      • March 12, 2014 at 6:31 pm

        *grin* I like your take! I’ve gotta say, my beard drawing looked a heckuva lot cuter than I expected it would. 🙂

    • March 12, 2014 at 6:30 pm

      If only shaving didn’t have to be done so often! So much faster and less obnoxious . .

  11. February 5, 2014 at 8:35 am

    Love your gorilla photo! My two grandmothers lived to be in their 90s. I must admit, the more adorable (warm, honest, generous, humble, funny, amazingly intelligent) one had more hairs for more of her life. Just saying….

  12. February 5, 2014 at 9:18 am

    Haha this is awesome! I always have to tweeze my chin and jaw and neck and it sucks! I’m always self-conscious that someone will see how hairy I am. I’m glad you posted this so I don’t feel so alone!

    • March 12, 2014 at 6:33 pm

      Definitely not alone! Five weeks since my last appointment and I am already wishing I could fast forward to my appointment this weekend. The situation was bad-ish last weekend but somehow amplified over the last couple of days. Aaargh!

  13. February 5, 2014 at 11:45 am

    I feel comforted by this. Also like how you called it dances instead of epic battles. A much more friendly metaphor. I have hair growing everywhere that I’ve been fighting for years. My friend and I began waxing our bikini lines ourselves at age 13. Since then, I’ve been waxed, lasered, poked, Naired, threaded, you name it. And I’m still a hairy beast. Making peace with it though.

    • March 12, 2014 at 6:35 pm

      Me, too. Laughing about it helps, but the laughing part is definitely taking some practice. 🙂

  14. February 5, 2014 at 2:13 pm

    Very much love your photos, too funny! I never knew about the female facial hair thing until in college when I started living with my friend, I was stunned to learn all about that whitening cream, I can’t remember what it’s called. Anyway, love the excuse of the pregnancy. The only thing i have blamed on that is going up a 1/2 of a shoe size. As always, enjoy your posts!

    • March 12, 2014 at 6:38 pm

      Can you believe I forgot about the shoe size thing?! I just had to buy a pair of dude sandals which shall be my sole paid of shoes for the next many weeks . . .

  15. February 5, 2014 at 2:27 pm

    Wow! Deborah. It is good that someone is cheering for the ‘very hairies’. We need to make sure that the DNA for hairiness continues and for that matter the snore gene should be a protected biological ingredient. Where would we be if there were to be no hair and no snoring? The world would be far colder and bears would sneak in. So cheers to you Deb, and nice pictures too. B

  16. February 5, 2014 at 4:23 pm

    Yay! About time we hairies came out of the closet! You rock on Deb! 🙂 Keep on pluckin. lol

  17. Koa
    February 5, 2014 at 8:56 pm

    haha. Happy gorilla mama…

  18. February 6, 2014 at 6:31 pm

    I stopped coloring my hair and wearing make-up a while back. I think people at work noticed, but they didn’t comment to me about it. And I think you make a beautiful bearded woman, not that there’s anything wrong with beards on women. It just seems you’re a little concerned about it. Smiles!

  19. February 9, 2014 at 12:44 pm

    Oh how well I know this one. I am my fathers daughter! When I met him I just knew. It is fine my friend, love will see past the forest till you can get to the waxer!

  20. February 10, 2014 at 12:05 pm

    I don’t have the patience to wait for waxing, so I tweeze. But I do try to squeeze in a few underarm waxes before it gets super hot.

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