Adventures in Motherhood – Sara & Jeannie Get Tattoos

For our first official Mother’s Day blog, Jeannie and I wanted to share a special story about one of our adventures that is permanently inked in our memories as Moms. It’s funny because our kids weren’t even there with us. But it’s something that we shared as moms, as women, and as friends together.

For quite a while I had wanted a tattoo. I love the way they look and they can be really beautiful and meaningful pieces of permanent art. I knew Jeannie had gotten one when she was younger. She even designed it herself, so it was one-of-kind and personal to her. But that word ‘permanent’ is scary. Really scary. First of all, what would my own Mom say? Second, how do I pick something so important and meaningful that will be with me forever? Forever ever. Forever ever? I just couldn’t land on one thing that would stand the test of time. I was sure that I might totally regret it in a few years. Plus, I had to really consider how I’d feel as an older, wrinkled (albeit fabulous) lady with a sagging tattoo. I was so sure that I’d probably regret it in only a few years. So, that’s probably why I couldn’t seem to commit on anything. I kept putting it in the back of mind to think about another day.

The Cool Mom

Years went by and my fear of commitment kept me from doing it. By now I’m over 30 living in suburbia with a kid of my own. You’d think that by this time if I hadn’t gotten a tattoo, it was never going to happen. And that’s where I like to prove people wrong. Who says moms don’t get tattooed? It wasn’t until that point in my life that I knew I finally had something worth engraving on my body.

Jeannie and I both had our kids about 9 months apart. And she was in a similar situation. We both wanted to get something done to commemorate our kids. We talked about it for months and months. And it was really with her encouragement that we finally made an appointment. We’re really good at embarking on new, crazy adventures together.

 

Decision Time

I went back and forth on what to get. I knew I wanted it to be for my son, Will. I dedicated two Pinterest boards to ideas that ranged from his birthday in Roman numerals, his name or zodiac sign to Tinkerbell (one of his first favorite Disney characters). In the end though, I went simple. I chose a simple, script letter “W” so that when I look at it from my point of view, it’s a ‘W’ that stands for William. And when he looks at it from his point of view, it’s an ‘M’ that stands for Mama.

Jeannie really took the reins which was probably a good thing or I’d still be putting it off. We scheduled a consultation a month or so out with a local artist who came highly recommended by people with some serious body art. I have to say it was incredibly intimidating walking in. Two yuppy moms who look about as hardcore as a Taylor Swift video sitting across from a huge guy just covered in tattoos with a ZZ Top beard. I have to say, he was actually really great. He didn’t balk at all about being asked to do the world’s simplest tattoo that was no larger than a quarter. He was actually totally cool and worked with my ideas to come up with a delicate design that would fit the size and space that I wanted. He really made the whole experience way easier.

 

The Big Day

It was October 28, 2015. I can still remember because Halloween was just right around the corner and I was dressing up as Veruca Salt for a work thing. We made a whole night of it. We met for dinner and Tylenol. Apparently drinking beforehand is frowned upon, so we didn’t get to do that. But it was still nice to chat beforehand. We drove to the studio and there was really no turning back at this point. I decided to go first. I’m a “let’s just get this over with” kind of person. Luckily I had to be at such an angle that I couldn’t see a bit of what he was doing. I was lying down with my arm sort of pinned to my chest while he worked. The whole thing only took a few minutes and Jeannie talked to me the whole time. I distinctly remember Snoop Dogg being on repeat the whole time. It really didn’t even hurt too bad. It felt like a hard scraping and was really more uncomfortable than painful. When it came time for Jeannie, I sat next to her and talked to her through it too. I really have to recommend having a friend there for support. I honestly wouldn’t do it any other way.

An “E” for Emma	A “W” for William

It’s been a few years now and I’m so glad I got it done. I have zero regrets and I think my Mom might even be coming around to the whole idea. I don’t think I’ll be able to ever convince her to get one done too. But how awesome would it be to be the bada$$ grandma getting tattooed! (I know she’s reading this right now laughing at that one). I’m proud to report that we even went back again. This time we both chose something personal that reflected ourselves. Jeannie with a cute little Hello Kitty and I chose a crown because…princess. Obviously.  I will admit my second one hurt a lot more than the first. I chose to have it put on the back of my neck, which I wouldn’t really recommend to anyone. The harsh vibrating was just so close to my brain, that I swear I can still feel it. They say you can’t remember pain. But they’re wrong.

What’s Up Next?

I know you’re wondering. Will there be another tattoo in the future for these two mamas? Who knows. I know Jeannie would have to commit to at least a few more since she can’t have 4 of anything (it’s very bad luck). I’m just not sure what I would do. I have seriously thought about having my large surgery scars covered with a long flower or possibly a feather. But something that big would be a bigger commitment and recovery time. I couldn’t wear a bra for about a month and since I’m not Kendall Jenner, that probably isn’t going to happen. But I will stay open to the idea of another one. Afterall, they say that the best women get a bit wilder as they get older.

Love,

Sara