Worry wrinkles

I'm worried that I'm worrying too much.
Someone once said to me, "I would never have had kids if I knew how much I'd worry".  At the time I didn't grasp the concept, but after some big illnesses with our kids, and having seen other kids break their bits, I now would quite happily sit at home on the very soft lounge with three little mounds of cottonwool-formerly-children.
And worry is not good for our beauty mummy ducks. 
During a rather major stint of worrying my hair decided to join the party and zap the living colour out of itself.  But I didn't go grey with some funky slick spouting out right at my cowlick at the front, nor did it ease me into it with a little smattering of nice evenly streaked looking grey. Nooooo. One nice big fat patch at the crown of my head, in the shape of a rugby ball, and another slug, smack bang on the side of my head, like a flippin' koala's ear. 
To add to the downward Giant Slide, I came out of the same experience with about 8 years worth of wrinkles, particularly prominent at the frown mark area. And "what were those cracks in my eyes?" as my boys so eloquently put it.
Worry.  Not worth it.  Doesn't get you anywhere (except UP the age ladder).
Someone suggested Botox for a quick fix, might lift my spirits after all the worry. But if Botox makes you not frown because you've bazookered the muscles therefore getting rid of the frown lines, then maybe, umm, well I just won't frown.  Rocket science.
So, because I don't stick needles into myself unless medically necessary, my new aim is to stop worrying.  And start smiling, because I want to look like these smiley, worldly women when I'm 70. 

I want smile wrinkles. Nice big crows feet which say I have laughed hilariously with my family and friends.  Permanent grin marks around my mouth, bright happy eyes and a big old relaxed look to my beautiful wrinkly noggin.
So from now on I'm going to close my eyes, look away and don't wait for it to never happen. I'm going to go a little Buddhist and try and live in the moment - 'oh look, Big Bad School Dude climbed to the top of the LIQUID AMBER!  Don't think about it.... ohmmmmm......'
Then I will find that, guess what - he's still there (ignore the fact that he's waving to me with both hands). And I have survived the experience without the worry and without the grey hair.
So I tell myself.


  1. You'll always be beautiful Felicity. It shines out of you from within and is just the way you are. So don't worry about that!

  2. You're a knockout missus. Besides, if we look at things from the glass-half-full perspective; at least your hair didn't fall out! That is harder to fix.