When I was a youngster, I loved sunbathing. Forget sunscreen. I’d slather baby oil head to toe, comb lemon juice or Sun-In through my hair, and proceed to spend the next 4 to 6 hours baking like a potato in the hot summer sun.

Twenty years, 7 benign biopsies and a bunch of wrinkles later, I stand here in the CVS sunscreen aisle staring at SPF labels like I’m solving last Tuesday’s 2nd grade common core math problem.

Not only am I unsure what brand is “okay” to use, I’m not sure if I need the “water resistant”, or “sweat resistant”. I do want to resist sweating, but do I want to use a product that resists my sweat? Isn’t sweating good for me? Sweat helps regulate my body temperature, I think. Right? Okay, now I’m panicking. And sweating.

When did picking out sunscreen for my family become so challenging? When did all the warnings about chemicals and “bad stuff” become a thing? I’m just going to bite the bullet, pick a sunscreen and get out of CVS before I end up in the shampoo aisle and lose another 25 minutes staring down “curl control/leave in conditioner/anti-humidity” products.

In the mood for a lil’ science? Here’s a short Youtube video explaining UVB, UVA, sunscreens and all that jazz.

So anyway, I grab a bottle of Coppertone (you know the one, with the dog pulling on the little girl’s underpants) and run like the dickens to the checkout line.

$46.82 later, (I also needed diapers and new EOS chapstick, oh and I caved and got hair products), I was home free.

Now it’s the main event. The sunscreen application. I don’t care if you apply sunscreen to small children for a living. No one is good at it. No one enjoys it. And if they say they do, they’re either lying, or drunk.

I don’t know about you, but every time I attempt to apply sunscreen, my kids decide it’s time to do anything but stand there and allow me to apply sunscreen. Something that should take 60 seconds per child, takes me anywhere from 8 to 25 minutes. That’s just unacceptable. But, I’ve found that the timing fluctuates based on the following:

• Their level of enthusiasm.
• My overall attitude and have I had less than 2 cups of coffee.
• Was a special treat offered for good behavior?
• Are they wearing their favorite bathing suit?
• Do they have to pee?

It could be any of these things that speed up or prolong the sunscreen application duration. However, most of the time they’re pretty much just fucking with me.

I’ve accumulated the following strategies for applying sunscreen to my children

The Go-Go Gadget
For some reason, my kids LOVE to stand as far away from me as possible. I have pretty long arms, but I can only stretch them out so far. My kids ALWAYS manage to stand an inch and a half beyond my furthest arm reach.
When this occurs, you need to Go-Go Gadget yourself and make up for that inch and half.
Good luck with that.

The Chase
My son HATES sunscreen application. I get through a shoulder and half an arm before he darts away. Then the chase begins. Now it’s a game. He’s laughing at me. And I’m the asshole chasing him around my couch like cat and mouse. With every turn of the corner, I’m able to swipe another limb with protection and by the 15th or 16th lap, he’s covered and ready to go outside.

The Handoff
This only works in a situation when you have your spouse, grandparent or caretaker available. But I find it to be the best method.
If you can, always be the one to do the pre-sunscreen work. Get their swim diapers on. Get their swimsuits on. Get the snacks and drinks prepped. And then, when it’s time for sunscreen, tell the caretaker, “everything is done. They just need sunscreen.” Then walk away.

Whatever method you select, just know moms around the world are working really hard to apply sunscreen on their children.

P.S.: Don’t forget to apply sunscreen on yourself, too!

P.S.S.: Heading to the beach or pool? Get our book!