Tattoo Therapy

Oh God how I miss getting tattoos. It’s been one year and just over two months. And yes I do know to the date when my last one was. I spent the last four years getting tattooed.

Tattoos are my therapy, and I could use some right about now…. Now I know you are shaking your head, asking how it can be therapy. The pain, which is relative. The constant drone of the tattoo gun.

Let me explain…..

First I’m a Gemini, yeah I know who cares. But it comes into play here. My mind is always going. I’m analyzing and re over analyzing everything. Looking at every side of each thing. It feels sometimes that it never shuts the fuck hell up. It always takes me forever to get to sleep. I’m always going over the day. This is not good when you have a child, who is a boob hungry monster at night.

I came across mummamayhem’s post today. And I found myself cursing this woman. I don’t even know her, and I hated her today. She just got this amazing tattoo on her foot. And I was screw you and your new tattoo. I want one, I need one… Damn you breastfeeding child (whom I love dearly) This is what got me thinking about how much I miss them.

I had an appointment to finish my right sleeve. It was all planned out, I was super excited to finally get it DONE. Then I found out I was up the duff with my wee one. And of course they wont tattoo the pregnant lady.

But… But… I protested. technically I was pregnant when I got my last one.. No amount of begging and pleading worked sniff sniff. So appointment cancelled.

Back to why it is my therapy… It really is the ONLY time that my brain just stops. You really can’t think of anything else… My artist use to hate me. I would fall asleep on him. When clearly I was supposed be entertaining him. Sure there are a few spots on the body that do make you cringe. But I love getting tattooed. I actually like the pain. Read into that what you will. Every one of my tattoos mean something. Or came at a particular time in my life. It’s art and beautiful, and tells a story.

So until the wee one decides that I’m no longer the milk factory. The therapy will wait, the arm will stay unfinished. As much as I miss it, I have a greater duty right now. To feed my lovely wee one

So all of you that are getting tattoos, send pictures and let me live through you.

 

Home is where you……(insert what you feel here)

Home is where you…. I can’t say where I live. Sure I do love it here, I moved here for a reason. And can’t say where my heart is, because it’s in two places. My daughter is my heart, and of course she lives with me. And there are tiny pieces of my heart scattered across this world. I believe that each person who has truly touched your heart, or played some deep role in it. Carries a tiny piece of your heart with them… Anywho I’m getting off topic.

I will always and forever call Calgary my home. And I’m really missing home today.

Bump in the tower

This picture was taken the last time I was home. It was July last year, and I was just over 30 weeks. Its seems like forever ago. Granted I was in Edmonton for Christmas, and got to see some of my family. But about half of my family hasn’t even met the wee one yet.

I do admit I’ve loved these almost 10 years, 12 hour drive away from the drama that is my family. But since I’ve had the wee one, I find myself dreaming of home.

It’s hard always having to go and take the wee one to visit his family, and do things with his family. Yes I know she needs to know his side too. I’m not saying that she wouldn’t and shouldn’t. It just makes me sad that she doesn’t get to spend as much time with mine.They see bits and pieces of her. Her image in a photo, or through the computer screen. But that is not the same as holding her. I want her to be able to recognize them, and not play strange. Because she only sees them once or twice a year. This is not how I wanted it to be.

It was great when she was born. I think I had over two years worth of my own family visits in the first two months. And I loved it, or shall I say WE loved it. My parents were here for a week, they came two days after she was born and stayed for a week. But they normally come in September anyway, so they got an added bonus that visit. Then my oldest niece and her girlfriend came for a few days. Then my brother and my oldest nephew came for almost a week. My brother comes out about once a year, well he has started to anyway. And my nephew has never come out before. And the one that has meant the most to me. Was my sister and one of my other wonderful nieces came for a week. Neither of them have ever come out since I moved here. And it made me so happy.

So I guess you could say I’m going through family withdrawal. My next visit, as far as I know. Will be in June, my parents always come out for my birthday. Sigh that is so far away. And not to forget the wonderful spectacular friends that are there. I’m missing them something awful too.

Someone… Anyone…. Come see us soon we miss you

 

The invisible woman

I’ve just realized that there is only one picture of my daughter and I. And it’s a grainy one taken on my sisters iPad. It’s funny how you do end up being the person behind the camera. Capturing all the tiny memories. Or the faceless, leg less, body less entity. I think moms get the raw end of the deal sometimes.
I guess when for 99% of the time it is just her and I. I really can’t expect the ghost she keeps looking at to take the picture. Thankfully on the 27th as part of midwifery month, there is a photographer doing free 15 min mini shoots. I like free and I like to support my midwives. I wasn’t going to pass that up. And it’s a good way to have a few nice pictures of her and I.