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Okay, maybe I was a little spoiled in the sense that as a freelancer, I woke up whenever my body wanted to. I enjoyed indie matinees with carefully curated coffee from La Colombe and brie sandwiches from Breads Bakery. But giving up all of that superficial (a.k.a.: absolutely spectacular lifestyle) was a small price to pay for motherhood. I'd sometimes spend all day Saturday sourcing the best, cheapest, messiest Japanese haircut. The treatment uses a YAG laser, which deeply heats the skin, temporarily shrinking the oil glands. The next step is an IPL (intense pulsed light) laser, which helps improve skin tone and boost collagen.The lasers prickled a little, but it was relatively pain-free. After four sessions, the zit disappeared, never to appear again. Now that I've stopped worrying about pimples, I have the mental real estate to start obsessing over something new — anti-aging! not just for turning me on to a lifetime of scruffy boyfriends but for setting off a recurring volcano of a pimple.As a journalist, I was assigned to interview Ethan, my ultimate celeb crush. "I see it all the time," said Anne Chapas, MD, of Union Square Laser Dermatology.The week before the gig was stressful, between work, dating, it — so I went for help. She told me that inflammatory pimples — like the one on my face — have a talent for coming back, as they're often triggered by hormonal changes.
I definitely wasn't up for surgery and wasn't sure about a prescription just yet, so I held off. Granted, my daughter doesn't give me much to complain about. It's not in their blood; it's not in their blueberries. They made me feel empowered for walking a different path. My boyfriend sometimes sleeps on a fold-up mattress on the floor. To love me, means loving Hazel; to love him, means loving Maine. But that's where my relationship with complaining got even more complicated. His amazing, attractive, overflowing family, with farms and gardens and dogs and flowers and meals to make Martha Stewart cry, never complains. The three of us are leaving for Bermuda on Tuesday so that I can write about pink sand and sailboats. I am also writing this from my one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, where Hazel has the bedroom and I sleep on a daybed in the living room. Anyway, after only a few weeks of dating, the now "boyfriend" took me home to Maine. ) And I miss tending vigorously to my first baby, my work. And that she loves cats and motel rooms, which I just can't get behind.