Indigo Girl

11 Hours

Most nights when I am home, I read picture books to C while A reads a chapter of a bigger book to L and E (currently A Little Princess). C and I go to my room to read and we curl up together in my bed. Sometimes we get done early and snuggle or tickle or just talk. I'm drowsy by the time A is done reading and I often think, "What would it be like to go to sleep NOW?" I did it last night! I fell asleep at 8 pm and slept until 6:30 this morning. It was GLORIOUS. My work schedule rarely leaves me feeling well-rested, so this felt like a beautiful indulgence. 

Monday night I told L to go take a shower and she did it. I had to go help with conditioner and then make sure it was thoroughly rinsed out, but that was it. She did everything herself - turning on the shower, adjusting the temperature, washing her hair and body, drying herself . . . I honestly didn't believe this day would ever come. E could probably do it, too, but I don't remember if I ever taught her how to turn on the water. Will be remedying that shortly.

I realized the other day that I probably should teach my kids to swallow pills. Any tips? I did a little research and most people use tic-tacs or mini M&Ms with a favorite usually-not-allowed drink. 

L had grapefruit somewhere and is suddenly a grapefruit FIEND. (C calls them Fruitgrapes. FRUITGRAPES OMG.) I bought a bag and A let them dig around and try to eat one. Then I showed him how to cut it in half and cut around the edge and next to the membranes and he said, "Huh." I asked, "Did you really not know how to do that or were you just torturing them?" He replied, "I guess maybe if I thought about it, I might have had a grapefruit at a restaurant or something and thought, 'Oh, this is easier to eat' in passing, but no. I had no idea." He is FREAKISHLY SMART, you guys. HE IS. And yet.

I find myself cutting grapefruit a lot in this L-Loves-Grapefruit phase and I wondered if there is an easier way. The internet told me to cut around it or to peel it, but those options do not appeal (pun not intended, but appreciated). Both those options end with my hands coated with juice. My method necessitates squeezing the last of the juice into L's bowl so she can lap it up, but it's not nearly as messy. As she finished it the other day, she sighed, "I wish there was grapefruit juice." I told her there was and blew her little mind. I love when that happens.

This morning I dropped off C early with our carpool friend and the rest of us went to school for DONUTS! and also to watch E and L receive some award. I mean, it's great that they are scoring so well in school, but the important thing is that they are doing their part to keep me and A supplied with donuts. I kid! (But only a little!) They were two of sixty kids in their school who scored in the 90th percentile nationally on a standardized test. Go them! (Donuts!) One of my favorite fellow moms told me that she was watching them and noticed that L was more excited to see her sister get a certificate than she was for herself. Then she said, "I love those girls. You're doing a great job." SERIOUSLY. CAN YOU GET A BETTER COMPLIMENT THAN THAT?! No. You can't.

Post Tattoo Thoughts

I am two weeks out from my tattoo. It's 95% healed and I'm done with all the post-procedure care. The only complication I experienced was a horrid allergic reaction to the tape that was used to hold the original dressing. That dressing only stays on for a few hours, but I developed an ugly thick red square around my tattoo. It itched like a son of a bitch, but distracted me from any actual tattoo itching.

The tattoo itself felt like road rash for the first few days, like a big scrape, but never hurt unless someone touched it carelessly. I didn't have any ink bleeding (apparently that's normal) and only a bit of redness around the thickest lines. I tried washing it twice a day in the sink, but your shoulder blade is really hard to wash and rinse without getting your pants wet, so I ended up hopping in the shower every evening to wash it. This wasn't a hardship. I'm usually cold and a hot shower felt nice. The thickest lines are still slightly peeling and raised. Everything else is smooth and healed.

I forgot to tell you that there is no submerging in water until it's healed. I didn't know that and am glad I'll be healed before we go to the water park in February. It's something to think about if you get a summer tattoo.

 I had one episode of "OMG I'VE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE AND IT'S WAAAAAY TOO BIG WHAT AM I GOING TO DOOOOOO?!" I think maybe this is normal after a hugely planned and anticipated event? It lasted for a few minutes until I actually looked at my naked back in the mirror and realized that I still love the design, I love the placement, and while it's large, it's quite proportional to my body. I'm not a small person. And maybe I would feel like that about ANY tattoo? Going from no tattoo to any tattoo would be a big change - a tiny little tattoo is HUGE compared to NOTHING.

I also told myself, quite sensibly, that I had thought about this for years, worked on it for months, and there is nothing to be done about it now so stop freaking out.

Christine asked if I came up with the design and how to get tattoo studio references. I found the design on the internet - I cannot tell you how many variations of mother daughter art tattoo I put into google - but it was in color. The artist redid it in black, changed the hair and some lines, and added the names.

For studio references, I asked people who I knew had tattoos or people who were under 30 (how's that second one for stereotyping?). "Do you have any tattoos?" was my opening line. One of my coworkers had been showing off her tattoo last summer, so I asked her, too. The first three people recommended the place I went to, but I got over a dozen recommendations. I checked out their website and looked around when I went in. If anything seemed off, I would have kept looking. If you want, you can find lists on google that tell you to ask about their autoclave temperature records and where they dispose of needles and so on. 

Rebecca L asked how I decided where to put it. I AGONIZED over this for YEARS. I already have a tattoo on my hip - my idea of the perfect place. My other potential place was my ankle, but I think the shoulder blade is easier to hide. I don't think it's necessary to hide a tattoo, but it was a personal decision and I want the option to keep it to myself. I'm old enough and confident enough that I don't care what friends/family/strangers think or say, but there are times when I need to be professional, so I didn't choose my upper arm or wrist or ankle. Those are harder to cover. 

Currently, I wear scrubs at work and am covered from toe to neck to wrist, but my hospital does have a policy stating "No visible tattoos" and that seems pretty standard. I took that into account. I suppose someday I might be a poolside waitress or stripper in Las Vegas, but I couldn't come up with any other profession where I would be mandated to wear a bathing suit or spaghetti straps. I think I can work in a variety of professions and I don't have to reveal a shoulder blade tattoo unless I choose to.

The girls love it and will gasp, "YOUR TATTOO!" when they see it. They all like to find and trace their names. L told me, "I'm SO GLAD my name is in cursive! It's so pretty!"

August, September, October Twitter

STOP MUMBLING.

Lady cutting C's hair: "She keeps giggling!" Truer words, man.

Admitted a patient this morning for a suicide attempt. I offered him a drink with his meds. He turned down juice b/c of the HFCS. 

C said to me, "This is how chinchillas dance!" and then she danced the chinchilla dance. I have no words to describe it.

C & I put on her seatbelt together. Her: "Good work, Team!"

Read an article on school lunches that suggested packing sushi. Obviously, they have never met L, who only eats PB sandwiches.

She does not want your wraps or your salads or your soups or even your freaking mac-n-cheese in a thermos, let alone SUSHI.

L, with a calculator, is quizzing me on my multiplication tables. I am knocking it out of the park and she is quite impressed.

I am SO TIRED of being corrected (INCORRECTLY) by little people today. YOU ARE SEVEN (or FOUR). YOU KNOW NOTHING. SHUT UP.

I stayed up late last night, worrying. I did all YOUR worrying, too, so you can cross that off your list.

C: "Unpleasant aromas are yucky." Me: "UNPLEASANT AROMAS?" Her, knowingly: "Yes, unpleasant aromas. It means bad smell."

C:"God knows what our house looks like?" Me:"Yes!" Her:"Even what it looks like INSIDE?" Me:"Yes!" Her:"Even that it's a mess sometimes?"

Bumper sticker at school: "When Jesus said love your enemies, I think he probably meant don't kill them." #mynewbestfriend

You guys, I've eaten the new Oreo Triple Double cookies and I can never go back.

C:"Excuse me! I pooted!" Me:"You're excused." Her:"Do you smell it?" Me:"No." Her [walks over to me]: "NOW do you smell it?"

The lady behind me in the checkout lane does NOT have the same personal space boundaries that I have. BACK OFF, lady.

I had to do L's hair around her ninja swords this morning.

I am washing the blinds in the bathtub. C: "You're giving them a BUBBLE BATH?!"

Such a good discussion with my kids re: religious diversity/tolerance made more awesome by E calling Allah "Hollah."

L was sobbing violently when I picked her up from school. I thought she was injured. Turns out she dropped her Laffy Taffy in the dirt.

Oh, grief that is seeing your moldy squashed pumpkin, thou face is L.

Trick-or-treating is way better after 2 glasses of mulled wine.

E, whispering,"I think that lady is rich. She has TWO CHANDELIERS."

At the party. Me [frustrated]:"I can't hear anything anyone is saying!" E:"I think it's because of all the noise and yelling."

Preschool teacher commented to me, "I think you're my best Scholastic book order customer!"

Flannel sheets x4 beds: check. One of my favorite parts of winter.

I get to observe C's ballet class today. She's at the barre! 1st position! 2nd position! I want to be a ballet dancer!

L says E drew a mustache on her while she was sleeping. She washed it off before we could see it. E confirms this story.

More Mosaics

So these mosaics that I bought on recommendation from Swistle because I needed one more small Christmas gift have been a huge hit and now I have a dragon set on the wish list for me. What? Maybe I'm coming to crafts late in life. C works on hers all the time and finished all five! I bought another kit to keep in my closet for a reward (um, I'm not sure what for, but I like to have a couple small gifts around) and I gave it to her today because she's had so much fun doing them. She was giddy and immediately started working on it.

L keeps calling them "mesozoics" and that is great. NO ONE CORRECT HER.

Here are C's, one of L's, and one of E's. You can see how much harder the older kids mosaics are. I think C could do them, but I prefer independence in crafting. I might let her try mine when they arrive, because she told me confidently, "I'm ready for the harder ones now."

I was talking on Twitter with Amy and Arwen about how we love our kids in different ways. It is a confusing concept, in my opinion. I'll think, "Oh! I love C! She's such a sweet and happy kid!" and then immediately, "Oh, L! She is so brilliant and awesome! I love her!" and then "E! What a hilarious sense of humor she has!" and so on. If you have multiple kids, maybe you remember when you couldn't imagine loving any kid as much as your first? And then you had another and that love expanded? It's bizarre. I love each of my kids the most.

I love how C gave me (and everyone else in the Meijer's bathroom - sorry!) a play-by-play yesterday: "Mom! I hung up my coat! Now I'm pulling down my pants! Now I'm pulling down my undies! I'm sitting on the toilet! I'm peeing, Mom! Can you hear me? Are you peeing, too? Now I'm wiping!" and etc. I love how they were all playing outside and I saw E teaching C to ride her bike on our icy driveway. She can be so thoughtful and patient (maybe not very foresightful). She totally gets my sense of humor and responds in kind. It makes me want to gobble her up. And then L with her constant questions and follow-up questions and amazing awareness of details. She said to me, "Soon Daddy will have to take his allergy medicine so he doesn't sneeze!" A said, "That shows a million times more awareness than I had about my parents when I was an adult."

My mind flits from one to the other and I love them and for different reasons and in different ways. It boggles my mind.

Wednesday I went on a field trip with E and L's class while my recently retired FIL took C to her ballet class and then, in her words, "I ate jellybeans and watched Ariel! AT THE SAME TIME!" The second graders and I listened to the local symphony while the local ballet company performed Little Red Riding Hood. It was so very good and the kids were incredibly well behaved. The bus ride there and back was hell on earth (SO LOUD even when people are speaking normally!), but I survived.

Wonky Eyes

If you are new here, you might not know that E wears glasses because of congenital esotropia. She kind of has two alternating "lazy eyes" (although that is a different diagnosis). My MIL had esotropia, too, and her eye muscles were corrected with surgery when she was young. E had surgery when she was 15 months old. We were at the eye doctor every three months for a few years, every four months for a few years, and we've been going every six months for a couple years now.  

Every time we go, I hold my breath. Our surgeon was quite clear that even if we made it through the first few years after surgery, she will always have a 10% chance of needing another surgery in her lifetime. We might come to a point in time where her crossing is not corrected by her glasses.  Her eyes have always crossed more when she's tired or not wearing her glasses (normal), but I've noticed her eyes crossing more often when she is NOT tired and she IS wearing her glasses. I have been saying "E, your eyes are wonky. Can you fix them?" more frequently. They had changed her prescription last time, so I thought maybe they would change it back, but instead we are patching her eyes. The patching didn't work the first time around (OMG, her CHEEKS in this picture! Little pumpkin!), but okay. It's worth a try.

It's only for an hour a day around the house in the afternoon or evening. She picked out a cool dragon patch and wanted to wear it immediately to school. He'll see us again in three months and we'll have a long dilating drops appointment and he'll try to tweak her prescription. Fingers crossed.

In other sad - but less serious - news, we tried to go snow tubing last night and failed. It finally snowed last week and we were all geeked to take advantage of cheap family night, but it warmed up enough that the hill had big slushy patches. We watched people slide slowly halfway down and then stop. Our kids - especially L - were SO disappointed. They had been counting down the days and then hours and finally the minutes until we arrived. However, despite the disappointment, all three kids did GREAT. There was no whining or complaining. We all agreed it sucked and we were really, really, super-duper disappointed. We brainstormed another fun thing to do with our friends and ended up having a great time sledding on a regular hill. We'll try tubing again later.

Snow Day

It snowed here significantly for the first time this winter and the schools celebrated by having an unnecessary snow day. I told L and she immediately burst into tears. "But we were going to do a fun math activity with cookies and it's Celebrate Success day and Emily was going to get her 100 point AR club t-shirt!" Shortly after she added sadly, "It was the world music assembly today." DORK. I comforted her and she asked me, sniffling, "Will you take us to school anyway so we can play on the playground?" OMG NO. E was much more normal: "YAY!" and then "Why did you make me get up and get dressed?"

C still had preschool so we picked up our carpool buddy and I dropped the two of them off. The rest of us headed to the Y where we saw the VP of our school - the one that I have a little crush on. He waved cheerfully at us and I made the brilliant comment of, "Oh hey! You have the day off, too!" and he said slowly in that is-she-stupid? voice, "Ye-es."

We came home, I showered, and then the girls played outside. C was dropped off shortly after they went out and she joined them. I put a stew in the crockpot, did the dishes, and made lunch and hot chocolate with pink heart-shaped marshmallows. 

It's awesome to have a snow day on Friday. Instead of hurrying C through lunch and a few books and then trying to cram in a couple hours of sleep before school pick-up, I could take my time. We had a leisurely lunch and I left them watching Spy Kids and slept an extra hour.

Three Little Birds

I got tired of our current car music, so I put together a new CD with child appropriate songs I like to sing. (Sadly, no Sexy And I Know It by LMFAO.) It's been fun to listen to the girls sing I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) (The Proclaimers) or Obladi Oblada (The Beatles). We were getting ready for bed and all of us were singing Three Little Birds (Bob Marley) together. It was like a musical except for the fact that only one of us can carry a tune.

Tuesday morning E came downstairs and I could see her ankles and the butt of her uniform pants was super tight so we went back upstairs together. I took those and three other pairs out of her closet and moved them to L's (nice to have a slightly shorter/smaller twin). That left her with ONE pair plus whatever was in the laundry. 

I went to the consignment store and it's all jeans, no pants. I did, however, look through the bookshelves and found this awesome series of hardcover "Ask Me" books. I can't find a link to them online, but they look brand new. They have titles like "Do Rivers Ever End?" and "Who Lived in Castles?" with easy to read information inside. I'M going to read them. I love books like this. I bought the whole series (there were 11) for $1.50 each. 

C and I hung out at the pet store today and I happened to look through the sale Christmas items. I may have bought $1 Christmas cat jester collars for our cats. These cats are going to eat me in my sleep.

 I took them off and told the girls that Bailey (the black cat) will probably eat the collar (she eats EVERYTHING) so they can only wear them under supervision. E said, "Oh! We can put them on when we give them catnip! Then they'll look even funnier!" I think she's meant to be in a fraternity.

 When E and L spent their saved allowance at Claire's (feather earrings!) they also bought sleep masks that I thought would be gone/forgotten within days. Maybe because I wear a sleep mask when I nap before work, but they are consistently wearing sleep masks at night. I bought one for C because she doesn't get an allowance yet and politely asked to borrow her sisters' masks, but never asked for one. Hers and L's have creepy eyelashes that look like closed eyes. E's is satin and says "Sweet Dreams."

Spa

I played Spa with E and L this weekend and here is what I have to say: BEST PRETEND PLAY GAME EVER. I reclined on the couch and E would massage my feet and L would massage my hands and after a while one would yell, "Change positions!" and then someone would be playing with my hair and someone else would be stroking my back. It was fabulous. 

It's all because of this Fancy Nancy book that we checked out of the library, so if you are interested and you have suggestible children, get thee to the library! E and L set up a spa in our office with blankets and pillows all over. They asked me a million questions about real spas (like I frequent those often?) and now I am toying with the idea of getting them pedicures as a birthday present. (Not till May, but I like to remember ideas as they come.) A laughed at my excitement over the idea of mother-daughter spa experiences, but it sounds SO FUN. L was fascinated at the idea of a facial and someone doing your hair and wanted to make sure she could have cucumbers on her eyes.

(I love Fancy Nancy in general - she's quite charming, not at all bratty, and I enjoy her parents' good-natured acceptance of her love of fanciness - but I adore her big vocabulary words. As I was reading it, I said "Au revoir!" and C said, "That's fancy for goodbye!")

We've had several recent instances of E bringing out some very adult communication. I picked them up from the Y kids area after ZUMBA! on Monday and I arrived just as they were starting a new game. She looked sad, but she didn't cry or whine. She said,

"You came back at a very inconvenient time. We were going to play Octoball and I was really looking forward to it. We just finished [some lame game - I forget] and I don't really care for that, but I wanted to play Octoball."

They know that I can arrive at any time - we've gone over that since the beginning when there were tears/tantrums - and I'll often wait a few minutes while they take their turn or finish their projects. I rarely feel bad, but I actually did feel bad this time when she stated her feelings so clearly and appropriately. If it hadn't been a school night, I would have found something to occupy myself with for 15 minutes while she played Octoball. 

A reports he heard her telling C firmly: "I don't like when you do that and I want you to stop it." So mature!

AND YET. SHE WORRIES THAT WE WILL ALL MAGICALLY DISAPPEAR AT NIGHT. Children=walking contradictions.

L complained that the music we've been leaving on to comfort E keeps her (L) up. A thinks she's full of it - and she might be - but she was always the one who turned off the white noise machine when we had one. I think she does like quiet. E says listening to her own music "isn't the same" and books don't make her feel better either. I told her we'd play the music one more night and come up with something else for tonight. I was going to suggest we check on her regularly and have A look for our baby monitor. (Today Wendy made the suggestion to use a reverse baby monitor. A suggested - tongue in cheek - that we record ourselves for one evening and then play the same evening over and over again; she won't notice.) 

But! Since A is way more creative than me, he suggested that we tie a string to her and then extend the string downstairs to where we are. I could immediately see her strangling herself on it. He suggested it to her and we tied some yarn around her large Spiderman and put him on the floor next to her bed. The yarn goes out the bedroom door and down to tie around the doorknob at the bottom of the stairs. This works for her. Let me repeat: THIS WORKS FOR HER. That is incredibly dumb, but I didn't tell her that we could be GONE beyond her bedroom door with the string simply vanishing into the nothingness. If it works for her, it works for me, as long as no one trips over that yarn.

Tattooed!

I got my second tattoo today! I got my first one when I was 18 and now my second at 35. I should be getting a third in my early 50s, I think.

When I described the pain to L, we had this conversation:

L: Did it hurt?

Me: YES.

Her: But they did everything they could to make it NOT hurt, right?

Me: No.

Her: [confused look]

Me: There isn't any way to make it NOT hurt. You are paying them to put ink under your skin in a design using needles. It's going to hurt.

Her [protesting]: But aren't scientists working on a way to make it hurt less?

Me [trying not to bust a gut laughing]: I don't think so, but maybe you can grow up to be a scientist who works on that!

 E was hoping that I would get a full dragon all along my upper and lower arm.

 Okay, so here is the finished product:

Here is a comparison of design #1 and #2 and what I ended up with (a combo):

I read over all your suggestions (which I seriously loved getting even if I didn't agree with all of them) and asked him to:

1. tone down the daughter's left shoulder so it didn't look like she lifted weights

2. move E's name

3. add more of a suggestion of hands with the daughter's right and mother's left hands

4. use a standardized font (which I supplied)

After looking it over, I had him move E's name back. I asked her if she minded and she said she liked being up above everyone. I liked the line of the dress more (it looks like they're twirling/dancing) when her name wasn't there and I liked the triangular symmetry of having the names like that.

It was a bit of a cluster-eff to get everything done and I almost started looking for another studio. I thought that I would ask for my revisions and then someone would get back to me, so I waited two weeks before calling to check. I have no idea about the artistic process and wasn't in a particular hurry plus it was the holidays PLUS I hate the phone. Then I found out that in their move/construction (they bought/renovated the building next door), my second design was lost. I was a bit peeved that I wasn't called when that happened, but I've moved before and know how stressful it is and had gotten so many recommendations about this place that I decided to give them a conditional pass. 

I re-sent them the original design and they still had my revisions and I got all that back within a week. I did decide to stay a bit more on top of things and emailed twice in that time. Maybe the client is supposed to be more involved? I don't know how this works. All the phone calls and email exchanges were very courteous, by the way, on both sides.

I had to call the make the appointment and I told her that I wanted to revise the revision and she said that was fine. I took the first appointment today (at noon! Oh to be a tattoo artist!). I went to my normal 10 am class at the Y and then my friend took C home with her for a play date. I showered and ate lunch and tried not to shit a brick in the car while I was waiting to go into the studio. I had a little bit of uncertainty and texted A to make sure he would still love me with a second tattoo. He said yes. 

I am not the type to ever be 100% certain about something - I hate change and permanent change is stressful! - but I have been thinking about and planning this for a year or more, so I told myself with cold logic that I was as close to certain as I was capable of being. I agreed with myself and then told myself to NOT get nervous tummy because I didn't think I could recover from that embarrassment. 

The studio itself was full of gauged-ear employees (100% with n=5) and a lot of different people. If you are hesitating about a tattoo because you think you'll stick out, you won't. There was a group of 40-ish white women and a young heavily tattooed white man and an older black woman in the waiting room with me. When I left (about 2 hours later) there were totally different people, but a wide variety still.

My artist was quite nice and frankly, if he hadn't been, I would have left and happily forfeited my $50 deposit. I'm okay that they lost my redesign during a move, but if he made me the least uncomfortable, I would have booked it. He went over the re-revisions with me and then I had to come back to his room. I was wearing a t-strap bra, a spaghetti strap tank top, and a sweater. I took off the sweater and pulled the tank top strap over my arm and hoped that the bra would be okay. One of the straps was in the way, however, so I had the slightly uncomfortable experience of pulling my bra off while he was in the room. I had prepared for the possibility, though, and that's why I wore the clothes I did even though it necessitated an extra load of laundry to wash the tank top last night.

I also kept reminding myself that he is a professional and he's certainly not ogling me or thinking of me in a sexual way any more than I do with my patients. UGH. NO. We all feel awkward when we have to show our bodies to a professional, but honestly, as one of those professionals, I am not critiquing you. 

He applied the stencil (?)(I don't know what it was but it was paper that he got wet) to my shoulder and then I looked in the mirror to see if it was placed right. I had him re-do it and move it down an inch or so. It seemed easy for him to do and he said he could keep moving it until I was happy. Right before he started the tattoo process, I stopped him and got up one more time to check the placement and the name spelling. He was totally cool with that and it made me feel better. Better safe than Lamebook, right?

I had a trashy romance novel on my Kindle, so I read for a while and tried to ignore the pain. Ah yes. The Pain. It hurts, I won't lie, but I found it entirely tolerable except for a few short instances when I grimaced and forced myself to not withdraw. I have a high pain tolerance (I think - unmedicated labor has been my only true test) and I can mentally talk myself through short periods of Pain With Purpose. The tattooing is not a sharp pain to me, it's kind of like someone taking rough sandpaper and scraping you with force. It hurts abruptly at the beginning and then fades to an irritation with occasional forays into pain again. There was a lot of stopping and starting and I think those regular bouts of pain-free seconds helped me tolerate the whole experience more. It took about an hour of total tattooing time and he also took a ten minute break to let his machine cool down/smoke a cigarette.

I did ask him a few questions after listening to him talk to another artist about a difficult design that a client wanted. I asked if he ever told a client no in regards to a tattoo and he said yes, they don't do swastikas or any gang symbols and then volunteered that he's offered to clean up a piece of artwork that someone brought in only to be told, "My dead daughter drew that" or something similar. Otherwise, he's pretty willing to tattoo whatever, even if he doesn't like the design personally. I think he would have been amenable to more chitchat, but I had to concentrate to control the pain and I need quiet to concentrate and didn't want to interrupt his concentration if he needed that, too.

After he was done, he covered it with a dressing and I left it on till I got home a few hours later. My instructions said to wash my hands (the brochure I was given has EXCELLENT handwashing instructions - this RN approves!) then remove the dressing, wash the tattoo with unscented soap, dry carefully, and apply antibiotic ointment a few times a day for a week. After that, I wash and apply lotion a few times a day for another week. Then I should be all healed. E has a huge scrape on her side so we are in a race to see who heals first. There are various warnings about how the tattoo looks faded for a while or the ink looks like it bleeds or it scabs (don't pick it!) and so on.

Other details: I was at the studio for about 1.5 hours, it cost $100 + an earlier $50 deposit and I tipped $25. It's my birthday (last Nov)/Christmas present. I am having a minor "OMG I HAVE A POTENTIALLY VISIBLE SUMMER TATTOO" freak-out, but nothing major. I'm still very glad I got it. I will now take questions if you have any.

You Guys Are All Very Nice

Like the title says, you guys were all very nice about E's worries. I was sure I was going to get a few comments about how E is manipulating us or something like that, but no one did. The last few nights have been fine. I think the matter-of-fact way we took her concerns seriously but showed no ACTUAL concern about her being taken away magically in the middle of the night was reassuring. I've been trying to notice if she might be stressed about something else - school, home, karate - those are our main activities - and I don't think so. Everything seem to be about normal or better than normal. I've been enjoying them so much lately. I didn't want Christmas break to end. Maybe too much adoring maternal love?

I do remember having silly (to an adult) worries when I was younger. I was TERRIFIED that someone was going to steal my dog. My dog was a mutt that we got for free when we stopped at a house with a "FREE PUPPIES!" sign out front. She was about 50 lbs, mostly golden lab and retriever we think, and dumb as a box of rocks. I loved her dearly from the time I was five until I took her to the vet to have her put to sleep when I was 21. She was the first person I loved who died.

I also worried that her tiny little dog house that was set against our house would be struck by lightening. Obviously I didn't understand the properties of lightening because the LAST thing lightening would strike would be a tiny plastic dog house up against a huge house surrounded by trees. Oh, and I worried that someone would steal her. I worried someone would steal my stupid little mutt that we got for free. Kids are dumb.

I STILL worry about things that I can't control and often find myself fretting about them when I should be sleeping. I find it comforting to imagine the scenario out to the end and figure out what I would do and say and what would happen and make it all work FOR ME. Maybe I should talk that through with E?

I read on Moxie's Fbook status that 2% of people in this poll thought that Mitt Romney's name was really Mittens. I laughed so long and hard at that and I'm STILL laughing when I think of it. Anyway, I discussed it on Twitter and it led to this exchange that made me LOL as well:

C: "What are you laughing at?"

Me: "My friend." 

Her: "What's her name?"

Me: "Swistle." 

Her [incredulous]: "SWISTLE?!"

 To which Swistle replied: "Tell her I'm thinking of changing my name to Mittens." MITTENS ROMNEY, YOU GUYS. I CAN'T EVEN.

Another conversation:

 L: "What should I be when I grow up? A stylist? A pizza maker? A dentist? A teacher?" 

E: "What should I be? A veterinarian? A zoo keeper? A babysitter?"

C: "What should I be? A princess or a witch or SuperGirl?"