“Tattoos. You either love ’em or you don’t. I love tattoos…as long as they’re on someone else…”
I’m not a fan of needles…or pain.
But, I do admire the grit and steel nerves it takes to have one applied. And I’m in awe of the dedication required to commit to just the right tattoo. But even more so, the devotion it takes to embrace a true passion and announce it to the world in the form of a skin billboard. All the while knowing that true passion will be a commitment that outlasts most landfill plastic bags.
Now that’s devotion!
Tattoos are great conversation starters.
I could be wrong, but I figure if someone has a permanent message on their body that I can read while I’m standing in line at Walmart, then they probably wouldn’t mind if I ask them about it. So…I ask.
And what I’ve discovered is there are countless reasons why each person gets their tattoo. And for each of those reasons, there’s an equally unique and interesting story to go along with their “dermis-art.”
Now even though I love tattoos, like I said before, I’m not a candidate for the process. My annual flu shot is plenty of needle pain for me, thank you. But, I have to confess, there was a time when I considered getting one tattoo in particular.
As you may already know…
I raised three boys. No big feat for anyone who has parented multiple children…I know.
But if you add to the mix a super-hyper-uber-energy-filled-busy-impulsive-unfocused-forgetful, sweet and funny ADHD child…well, then we’re talking a whole new level of parenting. And trust me, this level of parenting deserves its own special reward.
Yes, I’ve put some thought into this and I feel certain there will be a few extra jewels placed in my crown once I get to heaven. I earned them. Anyway, we’ll see.
Now you may or may not know that when dealing with an ADHD child, they’re generally much easier to handle at home. You know, like a familiar environment, routine, predictable schedule. All the necessary stuff to make raising an ADHD child a little less chaotic.
But I want to talk about another arena altogether — the public arena. Where chaos abounds and a roll of the dice determines how the trip will turn out.
Every week I’d grab my kids, load them in the car to do my weekly grocery shopping. And each week without fail, as soon as we entered through the store doors…LET THE CIRCUS BEGIN! Trying to keep the mayhem, bedlam, and pandemonium to a minimum while out in public…that was the chink in my armor.
And it showed!
So, I needed a plan.
A plan to help get my shopping done. I simple plan. I figured all I really needed to do was to stay focused, make my way through the store with my kids, groceries, and pride sanity in tack and try to avoid drawing any unwanted attention. Easy! Right?
No!
Even with that plan in place, we (actually I) still got the stink-eye from shoppers when my ADHD son, the master of ceremonies, would put on a show-stopping performance as I would try to rein him in.
Usually, in the middle of one of these wrangling, cajoling and pleading session with my son, I would invariably see a customer or two looking in my direction. Without failure, each time, I would feel the need to apologize or explain my situation as they stared and tilted their head as if questioning my parenting style.
Yup, this was my “normal” in public.
Searching for a new normal.
Listen, I was trying. I really was working hard to find a way to bring about the kind of normal that you see on TV ads and in magazines. The kind of normal where you don’t have to worry about what others think when you go shopping with your kids. I seriously needed some type of a sweet assurance that there could be such a thing as normal.
So I came up with another plan.
This plan would be the guarantee I needed to take me beyond the embarrassing chaos, the curious eyes of shoppers and bring about tranquility and calm. This would help me cope and rise above those moments when I felt the need to explain my child’s behavior. This would be the thing I could use to help me on my journey to find “normal.”
And no, by help, I’m not talking about the kind of help where you pay an expensive, private therapist $150 an hour to tell you “this is normal” while they listen to your motherhood woes.
Save your money. I got a better idea. No…it’s not wine.
It’s a mom tattoo!
You know…a soothing, gentle, peaceful, permanent affirmation!
The perfect reassuring reminder whenever the crazy kicks into high gear on outings.
I could simply look down at my arm and be quietly calmed by reading — “This moment of chaos will pass and everything will go back to normal.”
Then I would just smile, sigh and relax knowing I’ll get through the tense public moments with that perpetual comforting thought…
Pfff…Seriously?!… NO!
I need something that will really help me get through the rough patches in public.
The perfect mom tattoo!
A special tattoo that comes from the heart and has true passion. A little something to help me move beyond the occasional embarrassing moments. Something that makes a statement and explains it all without saying a word!
A tattoo that people can read when they’re standing in line at Walmart. And…has a great story to go along with it!
“Don’t judge me. You try raising an ADHD child!”
If you’ve been there, I’d love to hear how you get through those crazy moments with your kids. Share how you make motherhood manageable.
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