What tattoos I have and what special meaning they have

Tattoos have always fascinated me. They speak to my rebellious, artistic side. Loudly!!! I don't remember when I first decided to adorn myself with ink, but it had to have been fairly early in my life. It seems that I was always in trouble for writing and drawing on myself and my clothes.

I remember talking with my father about getting my first tattoo done. I had gone with a friend and watched while she got her first one done. I was entranced and I wanted one, too. I had no clue what I wanted and we discussed the options. It was decided that when the time came, dear old dad would accompany me to get it done. Unfortunately, that day never came. He passed away before I could get my first tattoo done. It wasn't until after the insurance company had settled out his life insurance policy did I get my first tattoo done.

The day I received my check was the day I decided I was finally getting my tattoo done and it was to be in memory of him. His favorite color was blue, so I chose a blue rose surrounded by Celtic vinework and leaves. It was excruciating for me to sit still and wait as the needle rhythmically placed colored ink beneath my skin. Not because it hurt, because the pain was almost nonexistent, but because it was torture for me to still while it was being done. Afterwards, as I inspected my new artwork in the mirror, I felt a tinge of sadness as I remembered who was supposed to be with me at that moment. It hurt me deeply that my father wasn't there, but at the same time, I felt there was no higher honor than choosing my first tat in his memory.

My second tattoo also holds a very special meaning for me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I suffer from BPD (borderline personality disorder). One of the symptoms, for a lack of a better word for it, is cutting. I have been a cutter since junior high school and my arms bear numerous scars from my turbulent past. I haven't cut into my flesh in nearly 3 1/2 years, but there have been a handful of times that I wanted to. As a way of reminding myself to be stronger than my illness, I got the word "fighter" tattooed amongst the scars on my left wrist. It is my way of telling myself that I am able to fight through the pain in my head and my heart and inflict more pain on my body. So far, it has served its purpose perfectly. It has the added bonus of being a conversation starter. Numerous people have asked me its significance and I am not shy about admitting my illness to anyone. It is a part of who I am, and if my tattoo can help someone else come to terms with themselves, it is worth it.

In addition to the blue rose honoring my father, I plan on getting a similar rose in honor of each of my children in their favorite colors. Pink for Emily, purple for Abby, orange for Chris and yellow for Michael. And to honor myself, I am planning on getting a chef sleeve done. Yes, I know it pretty much seals my fate as being a cook for the rest of my life. But I'm OK with that. Its what I do and its what I'm passionate about.

Someone who fascinates me and why

There are so many people who fascinate me for so many

reasons, but today's post is about my children. So it's not just about one person in particular, but the four most important people in my life. Ever.

Michael
My older son Michael turns 16 in less than a month. It is so very hard for me to fathom he is a teenager, let alone 16!!! already. When he came out for spring break, the inevitable happened. He is finally taller than me. *sigh* Anyway... Michael fascinates me on so many levels, but particularly how emotional he is. He is not your typical macho, rough, tough I gotta show the world I'm a man now kind of teenager. He feels the world differently than most, I can hear it in his voice when he talks. He questions me about a lot of things, and while I applaud his curiosity, sometimes it drives me to the point where I snap. After a long day of work in a hot kitchen, the last thing a mother wants to come home to is a round of 20 questions. I see his emotional side as both a blessing and a curse, as I am the same way. When I'm "on", I tend to over feel and over think and I see that starting to emerge in him. When I'm " off", I will shut you out in half a heartbeat. I am seeing that emerge innhim as well. I'm hoping I can teach him how to cope with his emotions instead of letting them get the better of him, as mine often do.

Emily
Emily, or as I usually call her Emmy, is the older of my twin daughters. Older by 19 minutes, but she lauds those 19 short minutes over her sister's head like a trophy! Emily fascinates me for the beauty that is beginning to emerge from her. Physically, she isn't built like her father or I, but if you had to choose a parent that she favors, it would be me. If she continues to grow as she is, my daughter is going to be tall and willowy. I am tall, but I'm solidly built. Miss Em is long and lean and all flowing arms and legs. She also has beautiful long, straight sandy blonde hair, grey eyes and her facial features are taking on a delicate doll like appearance. I love watching her when she plays or when she's dancing because she is just breath taking to behold. I sit back in wonder and ask how I made something so delicate and graceful looking when I am anything but delicate or graceful!

Abigail
Also known as Abby, she is my younger daughter. She absolutely hates being the younger sister and rebels against Emily whenever possible and often complains that she never has any privacy or space to herself. What fascinates me about Abby is the force behind her personality. There is no halfway with my babybgirl-she is 100% all other time. If she's angry, everyone knows it. If she's happy, everyone knows it. If she is feeling particularly proud of an accomplishment, everyone knows it. She has a fire that burns in her that I'm going to have to teach her how to control before it causes problems. When she feels she has been wronged, she will not back down. That includes her arguments with me! I am a strong willed woman, Abby sometimes makes me look weak.

Christopher
Aaahhhh, my baby. My "baby" is going to be ten this year and I simply don't feel that that is possible.  I always felt that Chris was going to be the class clown when he stated school. There isn't much this boy won't do to get a laugh out of me and his siblings. Sing silly songs? Check! Tell knock knock jokes? Check! Play practical jokes? Check! But what he truly excels at is his ability with physical comedy. He can control his falls and trips like no one I have ever seen outside of Hollywood. This hold is either going to be a comedian or a stunt person! But what truly fascinates me about my youngest is his impeccable timing. He seems to intuitively know when a perfectly timed burp will get the most laughs or when to loudly proclaim "whoever smelt it dealt it". When he erupts in a fit of giggles, know that no one is saferom his shenanigans. And those shenanigans are nearly always infectious!