Laser Hair Removal: The Approach You Should Avoid...

My sister just got a laser hair removal machine. As in, zip-zap-zappo and the leg hair is gone. And we're talking one of the big, fancy, commercial kind that spas use, not some dumb little diy at-home model. Can I just say how exciting that is? Especially when she says things like, "Hey Jenny, your pasty white skin and dark hair just happen to be perfect for laser hair removal. Would you mind growing out your leg hair so I can take before pictures of it and then letting me zap it ALL AWAY FOREVER?"

I had to think about it. For about a millisecond. Then operation grow-out-my-leg-hair commenced. (Of course I already had about a week's head start on it. It's like I'm psychic or something, because I'm sure I never went that long without shaving my legs before...)

That was about a month ago, and today was the big day. My sister has a friend who is training people to use the machine, and I was to be the practice subject for today's student. I admit that I wasn't crazy about the idea of someone 'practicing' on me, but if the end result is no leg hair, sign me up. So this morning I took my hideously hairy legs over there for a little laser action.

I arrive, and she (the trainer/friend) takes a few pictures of my lovely legs and then tells me to shave. See, a laser burns the hair out of the follicle, and the more hair you have above the skin the worse it hurts. Cause it burns. Unfortunately, being the optimistic person that I am, I disregarded the implications here. You know how pamphlets for stuff like this always say things like, "You may experience some minor discomfort," or "The sensation is something like a small pin prick,"? Yeah, as a matter of course I always assume these things to be gross exaggerations made for the faint of heart.

You know what assuming makes you, right?

And so, with my usual disrespect for such precautions, I whipped out my little electric shaver. It's true that the batteries were low, but that didn't worry me. A quick (and not very close or thorough) shave later, and I was ready to have my hair follicles burned out by a high powered laser.

Have you ever smelled burning hair? Have you ever heard the sound of hair follicles popping as they're disintegrated by the beam of a laser? Have you ever seen wisps of smoke coming off your own legs in the aftermath of said disintegration? Let me tell you, it may sound bad but it feels much, much, much worse. And the whole time the teacher and trainee kept saying things like, "Wow, that whole patch really popped, didn't it?" and "It's starting to smell like burnt popcorn in here," (chuckle, chuckle, chuckle). (I was not chuckling.)

The ankles were the worst. Especially because the 'trainee' didn't seem to get the part about keeping the laser pressed straight down on the leg. You see, if you tip it or lift it THEN IT ARCS. You know, like what lightning does when it causes a building to burst into flames? Or like a 50,000 volt electric fence will do if you get too close to it? Yeah, she couldn't seem to get that memo despite the fact that I kept saying  things like, "Um, I think your TIPPING IT!!!" (This last would come out as a shriek as the arc of the laser made contact. Popping and wafts of smoke would generally follow.)

Finally, however, it was done. Over. Finished. Kind of. Because I'll need at least one more treatment, and probably two or three to get rid of all the hair. Is it worth it? Definitely. People get their hair ripped out with hot wax repeatedly, so I think I can take little laser arcing and follicle burning in the name of hairless legs. But will I shave, and then shave again, and then shave again before I go back for round two? Uh, yeah. And I recommend you do the same if you ever get a chance to get any of your hair lasered, because the amount of 'slight discomfort' you will experience will be significantly more if you fail to pay heed to that one, simple, and vastly important step.

The things we do. All in the name of beauty, right?

Armpit Hair, Anyone?

So, as a general rule, body hair is not a very desirable thing. Unless you are a nine year old boy. Then, apparently, it's fascinating, and you really, really, really want some. Especially if your friend gets some first.

Liam, my nine year old, has a best friend. We'll call him B. B is a hilarious kid that is a kick to have around. B is seven months older than Liam, and is not what you'd call a skinny kid - but this totally adds to his charm. I have been hearing for a while about B's "armpit hair." Liam is completely awed by the fact that a kid his age could have already acquired such a thing. Several times now he has asked me to inspect his own armpits - just in case.

The other day I took the boys and B to the lake. They had a fabulous time swimming around and playing in the sand. Finally it was time to pack things up, and we got in the car and headed home. Niall, Liam and B are all sitting in the back seat as I hear (and watch via the rear view)the following conversation.

B: I have armpit hair.

L&N: Can we see? (in their "like totally cool! No way, dude!" voices)

Rear view mirror shows B proudly thrusting his armpits in the direction of my children's scrutinizing faces.

N: Wow, cool!

L: I think I'm getting some armpit hair!

Rear view mirror shows Liam hopefully displaying his armpits.

Some general conversation follows about different people and their armpit hair, until someone says:

"I know a kid who has armpit hair on his face!" followed by oooohs and ahhhs at the coolness of this statement.

How exactly do you follow a such a statement? I'm at a loss. I laughed all the way home. Since then, Liam has had me inspect his armpits, chest, and face. I had to disappoint him on all three accounts by describing the difference between "hair" and "fuzz". He rallied right back, however, and informed me that he has some "pretty good arm hair." I don't know, it looked pretty fuzzy to me. But he swears that when he gets out of the shower and rubs it with a towel it looks "Sooo hairy Mom!" Again, what can I say? Goooo Liam!

P.S. I told my mother this story, and like the fabulous grandma that she is, the next time she saw Liam the first thing she did was ask about his arm hair. He was thrilled.