This is a story about vanity. And about one very sweet husband who helped me through it.
The other day while shopping in one of those big box stores, I was picking up some baby bath products when I decided to check out the different brands of hair dye a few aisles over. Yup, I was finally fed up with the skunk streak in the back of my head that with every sleepless night and stressful day was just growing bigger. It was time to cover up those silver threads with an $8 box of soft medium brown L'Oreal Preference.
As I was trying to decide how dark I needed to go to bring back that youthful head of hair, I felt like everybody was looking at me. Ah, the poor woman, they were saying, she must be . . . old! Of course they were minding their own business and probably struggling with their own vanity issues, but I felt like all eyes were on me as I perused my choices.
Now mind you this box of L'Oreal sat on a shelf above my bathroom sink for nearly three weeks because I was still in denial about having a "graying" problem. But last night after the kids had gone to bed I asked Tim if he wouldn't mind being my hair stylist for the night. I thought he'd balk but he surprised me with a "sure, why not, I have nothing else to do." Cool. With the solution mixed, he went to town meticulously turning gray back in to brown.
Having my scalp massaged and my tresses tendered, gossipy talk for my "new" stylist just naturally oozed out of me. Usually Tim hates Hollywood hoopla or any details about the drama going on in my friends' lives but because he was in his zone if you will, he joined in.
Before I knew it, I was ready to rinse, condition, and dry my hair. When Tim grabbed the blow dryer from me because he didn't like how I was drying it out, I had to laugh out loud. "Oh my gosh Tim, I think you're enjoying yourself!"
We were both pleased with the results. I feel grateful to have a husband who wants me to feel beautiful inside and out and who is confident enough in his own virile masculinity to show me his feminine side.
(I haven't broken the news to him that from now on, he'll have to dye my hair every six to eight weeks!)

I waited on two older ladies the other night at Augustine Grill. They sat at table 9 - a pretty two-top table by the corner windows. I introduced myself and per usual, they commented on what an interesting name I had. In turn, one of the women told me her name was Freddy and that like my short name, hers was not a nickname either. We immediately clicked.
I took good care of them throughout the night. I noticed that they splurged on dinner, not holding back on calories and decadence. And when I suggested a dessert they said they shouldn't but then they went ahead and ordered our delicious homemade butterscotch bread pudding and ate every last bite. They stayed long after their dessert was finished engrossed in conversation like best girlfriends do.
But it was after they had gotten up to leave that I learned from Evelyn why they were out that evening. While Freddy was primping in the bathroom, Evelyn shared with me that they had been friends for nearly half their lives. She told me that Freddy's husband was living in a nursing home and that he was dying. And then as her eyes welled up she went on to say that she had lost her husband five and a half years ago to pancreatic cancer - the cancer that kills so quickly. She explained that years before he had battled melanoma which had moved to the lungs, surviving it and living another 20 odd years. But the pancreatic cancer got him in his late 70's leaving this lovely lady widowed and devastated.
I realized that this dinner was for Freddy. That night she needed her friend's sympathetic ear. She needed Evelyn's love and support and mostly she needed a friend who would understand what it was like to be loosing a husband.
Freddy came out of the restroom unaware that I had been filled in on her story. Here was this spunky older woman still hip with her choppy blonde haircut and red leather jacket obviously in very good health herself about to be widowed and on her own. Through her spryness I could see the sadness. It was there underneath her red lipstick smile. I just wanted to give her a hug but I didn't want her to know we'd been talking. Instead I laid a hand on Freddy's shoulder, telling them to take good care and to come back to see us again soon.
After they left I felt overwhelmingly sad. I went and sat down at the bar with my boss Anna who I knew would want to hear about this particular table. We talked about how no one is immune to death and dying, that we will all experience it with our partners. Depressing. But as I explained to Anna, even in this very dark time for Freddy there was one thing that was light and beautiful and uplifting - her dear friendship with Evelyn.
It made me realize how much I need my girlfriends and how lucky I feel to still remain close with so many of them. It's my girlfriends who pick me up when I'm feeling my saddest. They have been there to empathize and analyze and to help me sort through the messy chaos that is life.
Whenever I get off the phone with Annie or Corinne or Emily or Holly or Faith or Kate or Susan or Dawn or Julia or Nik, or Anna, Carole, Lisa, Melisa, Wendy or Sally, I always feel rejuvenated and clear-headed and mostly, I feel like I can face whatever darkness has come my way. I'm healthier and happier to have these women in my life. I don't know where I'd be without them. I'm pretty sure Freddy and Evelyn feel the same way.

Here are a few more of my favorite things:

For babies: I just discovered the BEST diaper rash cream. It's called Dr. Smith's Diaper Ointment with zinc oxide. It's sold at Walgreens. Bye bye Butt Paste, Mustela, and Desitin - this one tops them all.

For toddlers: Dax has been loving a series of books called, An If you Give book including If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, If You Give a Moose a Muffin, If You Give a Pig a Pancake, etc. by Laura Numeroff and illustrated by Felicia Bond. They are so much fun and they teach kids full-circle reasoning while picking up the concept of cause and effect. They capture how a toddler thinks and responds and to them, it all makes perfect sense all the time!

For mamas: Ok, I'm loving the new Revlon Just Bitten lip ($7)stain in Frenzy. I'm not a lipstick wearing girl so this has been perfect for having color that actually stays on for hours and hours. I just reapply the chapstick end and it brings back the luster. And I'm also not a foundation wearing kind of girl but I've now discovered the perfect tinted spf 15 moisturizer that goes on like a light foundation and evens out my ruddy skin. It's called VitaZing by Origins and it blends with any skin color. As soon as it goes on, it starts matching ones own unique skin tone. I'm hooked. ($37.50)

I bet everyone of you reading this blog knows someone who has a "doctor's complex", right? You know the type. They freely dish out unsubstantiated medical advice they read on-line and because they got it off the Internet, well, it must be true. Or worse, they try to cure your head cold, skin rash, or heart condition with herbal tinctures and high levels of one vitamin or another. (Now we're treading in dangerous waters.)
Really, moms are the biggest culprit. We spend so much time trying to make our babies' boo boos go away that we think we can cure cancer too. I'm the first to admit that I appreciate an old fashion panacea to make whatever I have go away but when a friend or a family member is adamant about how much Vitamin D I should take or how I should treat full-blown mastitis, I quickly start to tune them out. Because I know what they're doing. Most often, they're regurgitating information they found on a random Internet website or an article they read in Town & Country. Thanks but no thanks. Because the web is right at our fingertips and because we've all gotten so good at surfing it, we are starting to see ourselves as experts in fields we know absolutely nothing about and that's scary. We read and then we pass these unsubstantiated bits of knowledge on to our peers. But who says what we read is medically sound? The thing is we're bias ourselves. We read what we want to read from those who we like the most.
So during this horrible cold and flu season, I've learned to take others' unsolicited doctoring with a grain of salt. I smile and say, hmmmm, maybe I'll try that, and then I pick up my cell phone and call my internist.