My Ship, My Tattoo

Not just the Spanish Main, love. The entire ocean. The entire wo'ld. Wherever we want to go, we'll go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship needs but what a ship is... what the Black Pearl really is... is freedom.  - Jack Sparrow

This journey started when I was a teenager - but instead of going through all that again, just read this:   

Ever since I was a child, I have gotten a thrill when I see a ship, a large one. I have been on boats before, small sail boats - not really meant to hold more then 10-12 people (that is the closest I have come to being on a true sailing ship) and I felt completely at home on them. I don't get sea sick, I love the sun, I have a terrible sense of balance on dry land, so why not add the shifting of waves to it all! Being on a boat, on the ocean, it fills me with a sense of calm, of freedom, adventure, peace and wild joy. It fills me with a sense of home.

At 30 years old I started researching. I had, by that time settled on a ship. I knew I wanted my kids names on there somehow, but had not figured out how yet. Then one day after a trip to the library I was reading my children a story with beautiful illustrations and actually stopped reading in order to just sit and look at a picture. The book is called The Great Kettles: A Tale of Time and I am excited at the moment because I just spent 15 minutes online, tracking it down and I found it! And now I may have to buy it because I remember liking the book and I feel it deserves to live in my house. So here is the picture I first saw:

I snapped a photo of it with my phone and sent it to my sister so she could draw it up for me, with a few changes of course. This is what she created:

 

I loved it, and immediately started researching artists.  It took me close to a year to find an artist I truly loved. I wanted a clean style, creativity (I wanted the artist to use the base drawing and make the picture his own, without losing the magic of it) I wanted it to have a bit of a sketch feel, almost like a slate or even charcoal drawing, be done completely in black ink and be a good size so it took up a large portion of my upper back. I chose to put my girls initials on the flag and to make the "pirate" aspect of it more subtle, no blatant flag. 

So I had the drawing, I had my ideas - all that was left was to make the appointment and get the tattoo...and I started getting a little scared. I knew I could handle pain, after all, I have had three children with no medication. I can handle pain! But actually paying someone to do that to me went against my human nature. So I decided to go back a few steps and start a little smaller.

I love 3 children's books so completely and utterly that it brings me to tears and laughter, (often at the same time) to read them. Those three books are Winnie the Pooh, as is demonstrated by this blog. Peter Pan, as those that know me know WELL. And Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (as well as Through the Looking Glass).  One of my most well loved quotes from Alice is her simple statement of "Curiouser and Curiouser!" It makes me laugh every time. Here her world is falling entirely apart, the most bizzar creatures are popping up left and right and her reaction is a simple "Huh, now isn't that odd!" No fear, no panic, just "Curiouser and Curiouser!" I want that attitude in life. I want to look disaster in the face and shake my head and laugh. I want all my steps in life to be as bold as Alice. So I started small:

Not the most flattering angle for a foot I know, but I wanted to get all of the words in the picture. 

After that tattoo was done, I started to get excited for the next one. I had handled the pain just fine. (Aside from an almost fainting spell that I am saying was a lack of lunch that day...once I ate something I was just fine. I did not faint, no matter what the tattoo artist may tell you!) I gave them my picture, we talked through it all and made our appointments.

I wish I had gotten some pictures of the sketches the artist did as we decided on the final picture, it took some time to get it where I wanted - but finally we got started! By that time I was technically 31, but no one is really counting right?

The beginning sketch:

 The only issue I had with getting the tattoo where I couldn't see it, is not being able to watch and know when the pain would start. You just hear the buzzing of the needle and you know it will come, but you don't know exactly when! The first sesson took four hours. One hour to finalize the design and prep, and 3 hours for the first phase of the tattoo:

 

I was very pleased with how it was turning out. He had changed it to look a little more like a real ship, and less like a children's book illustration. Which was good, I wanted it to be all it's own and not just copied. About a month and a half went by between sessions, and I finally got it finished this last weekend! The second session took another 3 hours, but was well worth it in the end.

My finished Pirate Ship Tattoo!

 I am VERY well pleased with the final product. It is exactly what I had in mind, and it is now very fun to look back on the journey and be nothing but proud. As you can see, I couldn't resist adding the "Second star to the right" so Peter Pan is represented.   

As of right now, I do not plan on getting any more tattoo's. Though I hear they are highly addictive and almost no one stops at two. So we shall see - I have been asked several times WHY on earth I would ever want a tattoo - and perhaps that is a post for another time. But I think it is simply a part of my story. I have always wanted it, and in a weird sort of way it makes me feel more complete. Like I have been walking around without hair for most of my life and I finally realized what I was missing.

We, as humans all have a story. We all dress/talk/behave in a way that broadcasts our stories in one way, shape or form. There is a part of us that we want known, that we need understood right away.

Some people tell their story by wearing loud jewelry, or fancy shoes. Trendy clothes or a cute, styled hair-cut can answer a lot of questions about a person in seconds flat. It shows what they value, what they want to represent. Who they want to be.

Some people you will never, not in a million years, ever see without make-up and/or hair done. That is the part of their story they want seen. Perhaps it is protection against fear of rejection or a shield against getting too close, too real. Either way, it answers questions in seconds. It helps life to be a little bit easier.

Some people always have dirt under their fingernails, paint on their arms, glue on their hands or oil and grease on their clothes. That is their delight, that is how they wear their stories. You know a part of who they are instantly without ever having to ask. Before they even begin to speak.

For those of you that know me, you know I don't do things half way. I am not always an easy person to be around. I have faults, I have scars. I am rough around the edges. I rarely say what is right or proper in any given situation, but I am loyal and will fight for what I believe in. I have an unquenchable sense of laughter, adventure and more then a little bit of stubbornness. I am a writer, I am a storyteller. I am a wife and mother. I am a rebel, I am pirate, just ask my kids. I am a sailor, and now I have a ship!

This is my story. I am proud of my story. The process of getting to where I am now often hurt, it was rarely easy and I don't expect it ever really will be. But the story is MINE. And there is joy in the journey.

This - life, stories. This is my art.

My Superhero

“If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person.”
― Fred Rogers

I have been watching people a lot lately. As most of you know, I love watching people, perhaps even more so than anything else in this world. People are amazing, truly amazing. So unique, so REAL, they have so many levels, intentions, so much to give, and they need so much. Things that are palpable as well as metaphysical.  And those needs, can change at the drop of a hat. So it never gets boring!


I had the privilege of sitting in on the selection process of a jury recently (first time I had ever actually been called in). I say 'sitting in on,' because I was in the second group and never brought foreword because they filled the box before I was given the opportunity to answer any questions. But I got to watch and listen, so that if needed, I could come foreword and fill a seat. I LOVED it! Here everyone had told me how boring it was and all the ways they thought best to get out of it. (Isn't that what you do when you have jury duty? Try to get out of it? I had in my head this miserable process, because everyone constantly just wants out of it!)


But no, it was fascinating! I got to hear about peoples lives, what they did for a living. Their kids, what they loved, what made them angry. What they considered important enough to change their view of justice, right and wrong - what helped to keep them un-biased and what lines they drew as far as prejudice was concerned. Fascinating!

I have been working hard to change my attitude about people lately.  I find that I have been very focused of late on all the ways I feel that people regularly let me down. My last few posts have been a perfect example of that. I can get overwhelmed by the sheer volume of brokenness that it makes me want to give up hope. "Why bother!? Eventually they will let their humanness shine though - or they will see mine which is even worse. Eventually they will break a promise, say sometime offensive or take something I say in the wrong way and then it will take energy that I do not have to spare. Better to hide in my house, see only a select few people marked 'safe' in my book and shut the rest of the world away." But as much as I would like to give in to my reclusive nature, when it comes down to it, I need people. I need people a lot. So that means I need to see the good, or at the very least - I need to not focus on the bad.

I love watching people, I love seeing what is different and unique. I try hard not to judge styles and choices (unless it personally hurts someone else) but I have very little energy. So while I love seeing people be themselves, if it takes energy to be with someone, I will avoid it. Because my kids come first. They need my best, I can't waste energy. I feel like a wimp, truly.  Because I know some truly super moms that have physical struggles FAR surpassing my own.

I have a dear friend with the cutest 4 year old little boy, and she has dealt with physical hardships for her whole life, and she is amazing! She doesn't pretend it is easy, but in the midst of daily pain she is a truly spectacular mom to that baby boy. She laughs with him, she shows him off. She asks questions and finds what will work best. She takes life head-on, even in the midst of all kinds of struggles - she sees the beauty and the art in pain. She has such a heart for all those around her and creativity and passion flow from her unabridged, leaking into the world around her. That boy is so very lucky he has her as his mom. She makes me want to create something beautiful, because she is beauty and creativity - even when the pain makes it hard to move. She is so very beautiful. She inspires me so very much. I talk to her and I get so excited about life, about art. She is my superhero.

Me? My thyroid is a little low (tsh was at 35, even while on medication, last it was checked, for those that know what the numbers mean - so I have to go through the process of balancing medication again). So I'm tired. All the time. But really, that means nothing. I have it easy, oh so easy! I can get to the point sometimes where I feel so sorry for myself. I shouldn't. I have no right. I think that is the time when I need a good knock on the head or a slap in the face. I have it easy! 


I love watching people.

I got to hang out with a lovely friend today, one I don't get to see very often. She has 5 beautiful children and she is so encouraging. She makes me want to be a better mom. She speaks so openly about her struggles and triumphs as a parent and her home is so surrounded in love and warmth. As we were leaving today my Ayla says "Mama, I wish I could live here." She knows! Even a 5 year old knows a happy and healthy home, without even knowing why. Not to say ours is not happy,  I know Ayla just loves playing with her friend and she has no intention of moving out of my house. What kid doesn't dream of getting to live in the same house as a fun friend. But she recognized pure joy in a home, and she loved every minute of her time there. Sure parenting is hard, but this friend embraces the challenge instead of fighting against it. How easy it can be sometimes to become bitter because we are overwhelmed as moms. But she is so inspiring to me, she makes me feel honored to be a mom. Because it means I get to be counted in the same category as she. To be in her presence is to be with Joy. She is my superhero.


People are amazing!


My sister in law went through years of yearning for a child. God said wait. Now I have a wonderful nephew, who is no relation to her or my brother in law by blood - but there is no question in our minds that he is their baby boy. Sure there are challenges that come with adopting an older child. There is pain, there is grief, there is struggle. There is so much learning, but oh he is such an amazing kid! She was made to be his mom. To care for imaginary injuries, to give hugs and answer millions of questions. To get dizzy watching him zoom from room to room, to laugh at the crazy things he says. To make up for the years where he hadn't found her yet by giving lots of lots of cuddles NOW. To show off his spectacular skills and enjoy rare quiet moments of rest. It has been, and continues to be so inspiring to watch their journey. And she is so spectacular! She is so good at playing with that kid - whether it is throwing a ball for hours, going on bike rides or playing candyland 12 times in a row. She makes me want to be a better mom. I laugh at her stories, and feel such motivation to just get down and dirty playing with my kids. To see a family learn and grow together, when they started out as strangers. Sure it is not easy. But it is so right! Like the pieces of a puzzle. Sure they don't look alike (though I think he has my elbows) But they are so very right for each other! She is my superhero.  


People are works of art.


I knew several moms of special needs kids. Wow. Just, wow. There are no words for how amazing you are. I want to give you a medal, bake you a cake. Throw you a party! I want to clean your house for you, cook all your meals for a year, give you a day at the spa - or even better I want to watch your kids so that you can go to the bathroom all alone for a whole entire day!  I want to give you a hug and tell you that you are doing an amazing job. Because you are. Every single one of you. You love those kids so very very much. I can see it. Sure you are tired, probably way more tired then me! Yes you are overwhelmed. The everyday things you struggle with are magnificent. The things I take for granted that you strive towards so hard...I have no words. All I can say is that you are my superheroes. I am in tears because I want so much for you to know, you are SUPERHEROES. Every one of you. And I see how hard you work because you love your babies so very very much. I know there are tears, I know there is grief, I know there is much frustration. But it is paying off. Every drop of sweat, every tear. You are superheroes.


People are spectacular.


I know many single moms. Being both mom and dad, working to make a living and coming home to a house that won't tend itself. Growing and raising strong kids all on your own, without a break. Without a chance sometimes to even breath. I see you, you are doing such an amazing job with those kids, they are flourishing. You are my superheroes.


People are resilient.


I know so many moms that have to do it alone for 6-12 months at a time, working more than overtime so their husbands can be out defending our freedom. I see you. You are spectacular! You inspire me, you are truly my superheroes. 


People are magnificent.


Mom's with empty arms. Whether the desire was there, but never full-filled or whether your arms were full - but only for a moment. I see you. I have not forgotten you. I want to hold your hand, look into your face and let you know that I remember you. I remember your little ones. I see the sorrow, the joy, the grief. I don't fully understand it, but I remember and I see you. I know that even though others forget, and move on - that you still think about your babies all the time. And that is good. It means you are a mom. You are still looking out for them, no matter where they are. You inspire me so much. So much. You are my superheroes. Don't ever forget that. You are superheroes.


People are broken. We are human. We are faulty. But we are superheroes. All of us. There is art in the sorrow. There is joy in the journey. There is peace in the storm. We are superheroes.

I'll end with a quote from the Doctor - come on, was bound to happen eventually!

 "You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I've never met anybody who wasn't important before.”

You, are important. You are inspiring. You are a superhero.

Prune your roses for God's sake!

 “One of the new things people began to find out in the last century was that thoughts—just mere thoughts—are as powerful as electric batteries—as good for one as sunlight is, or as bad for one as poison. To let a sad thought or a bad one get into your mind is as dangerous as letting a scarlet fever germ get into your body. If you let it stay there after it has got in you may never get over it as long as you live... surprising things can happen to any one who, when a disagreeable or discouraged thought comes into his mind, just has the sense to remember in time and push it out by putting in an agreeable determinedly courageous one. Two things cannot be in one place."
                                                                 ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden


Alright parents, I am going to level with you.

Something has been bothering me for several weeks now and I need some answers. So I am going to be perfectly honest with you, and I need an honest answer in return.  I will preface this post with saying that special-needs parents are completely and utterly exempt from these questions. You are all super-hero's in my book.  I direct these questions at parents with children that do not have any social challenges beyond just learning to grow together.

In the last month or so, I and my children have had the privilege of being a part of many, many birthday parties/school functions and/or other social gatherings that have involved lots of kids running around like crazy - a mix of kids. All ages, all different school-styles, all different home lives. Usually lots of sugar and/excitement has been involved, so there is a certain amount of grace I am willing to extend.  But please, hear me out. You see, I am an observer by nature. I have often talked of this. I watch people. A lot. I watch interactions, re-actions and general social habits of all sorts of people, young, old, parents, kids and everything in betwen. And something lately has caught my eye. A re-accuring theme that is popping up right and left and it is leaving me confused and bewildered and I will admit, more then a little angry.

So I have some questions. And I want honest answers.

1. When did it become perfectly acceptable for kids to yell at their parents? And I am not just talking about little ones, all kids. From the very young, to the young adult. And maybe I am just missing something here. But parents are responding to these...I can only explain them as "angry summons" with a mild, humble "yes sweetie pie?" as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

I am honestly asking this question. Why is it acceptable behavior? Why are parents rolling over, presenting as doormats and allowing their children to speak disrespectfully to them?  Is my standard simply off somehow? Am I the only one that see's this as wrong?  Please and Thank You are gone, "Mom! I'm Hungry! Get me some food now!" has replaced it. And yet, no one is saying anything about this being not ok.

2. When did it become acceptable for children to destroy property that does not belong to them? To walk into another person's house and trash it? To rip things off of walls, to knock over furniture, to break items...I don't care how old the child is. When your kid is being destructive, whether they are 6 months or 6 years (and I saw both in the last few weeks), you stop them. You remove them from the situation, you apologize to your host. You make amends for the items that have been destroyed...but no, I am wrong again. The answer is...you look on blankly as it happens right in front of you. You don't notice, and when it is pointed out, you shrug it off as if it was bound to happen and don't even lift a finger to help make it right. "If I don't acknowledge it, it will go away" seems to be the attitude.

Why is this ok? I truly need an answer. I am completely appalled and confused. I saw this time and time again and I really don't understand. I wanted to say something, and perhaps I should have. But when the host, and the child's parent are both sitting inches from me and no one says a damn thing...who am I to complain? It left me confused and disarmed.

3. When did it become acceptable for children to scream. And I don't mean just the "kids are having fun" happy yelling of outside play. I mean SCREAM. Yell, shout, screech- sounds that would make a banshee blanch. A complete disregard for those sitting very, very close. Now, I suppose this question may not be fair. I have very sensitive hearing and suffer from tinnitus. So for me, everything is amplified. But for heaven's sake! (And now I sound like an old lady) Can we PLEASE keep our voices at a reasonable level? I tell my children that the purpose of screaming is to alert me when something is wrong. You know the boy who cried wolf? When kids scream (and I mean scream) as a part of normal play, it takes away that alert that parents naturally have to jump up and act at a sign of danger. It all becomes noise. And it makes me want to stick forks into my ears! I truly cannot handle it. And yet "she is just a screamer" seems to answer the question. Of course she is a screamer, she has never been taught how to control her voice! Is this normal? Am I the weird one? I am asking honestly. Why is that ok?

4. Why is it ok for children to push, shove, hit, slap, and body slam one another all in the name of play? Now, if it is a group of older kids I do understand that a certain amount of physical play is fully expected, that doesn't bother me. But if a mixed group of kids are at the top of a playground structure, and the large kids are continually shoving the small ones aside, running the risk of knocking them off the structure completely...why am I the only one that seems concerned.  When I actually catch a child mid-air that has been knocked down from 5 feet up...and it is not my own child...and the parent of the older kids just sits and laughs...how is that ok!?!  Do you not see the blatant disrespect for another person's body? Their safety? Their well-being? Not to mention waiting your turn to go down the slide! They shrug their shoulders, or mumble a scarcely heard instruction but never, not once did a parent act. Not once did someone remove their child and fix the behavior. Not. Once.

Why not?

And why am I the only one watching? Why am I the only one asking the big kids to be aware of the small ones?  I have to tell my own kids just as much as the others, my kids get distracted and forget just as much as their friends do...but I am there to remind them. But after a while, at several events I found myself giving direct instructions to specific kids who had parents sitting 3 feet away ("please don't throw sand in other kids faces" "grabbing a toy is not ok" etc.). And the parents either nodded along or ignored me entirely...I don't understand.

Why am I the only one? I am honestly asking. When your child is putting other children in danger because they are barreling through and/or not watching where they are going, WHY are you not there reminding? When your child knocks another kid down because they are being reckless, why are you not removing them from play until they have a moment to settle down and re-group? When your kid hits a smaller kid, or grabs a toy or worse, pushes them down entirely - why is it ok to simply not notice? I need to hear the justification. Because I am angry at how these kids are treating one another. I am angry at the hurtful words. I am livid over the disrespectful tones that kids are using when speaking to their parents. And I need to know why.

5. And with this I'll end my rant for now. When did we become ok with our kids being demanding, disrespectful, hurtful and jeering with one another. Especially the girls. Cattiness, insults, one-upping each other when it comes to toys, clothes, shoes, abilities and even worse, friends. It deeply saddens me. And what is worse, I am pretty sure this is a learned behavior.  When we as adults speak disrespectfully about one or to one another, it catches on.

How is that ok? Why do we barely blink as we tear down one another with words. Our spouses, our friends, our families.  It has become so mainstream we barely even notice when our kids do it to one another faces. Not only that, we are not equipping our kids to stand up and tell someone "that was not a nice thing to say." I hear an angry tone, and see a hurt face and then the subject is changed and the words are simply skipped over and forgotten...by the one who said it. While the one who heard it shrinks. It is ok to use words to tell someone "that hurt me" but we don't teach our kids that. Why not? We have this whole "politeness" thing backwards! We don't see the need for "please" or "thank you" but to tell someone "those were not kind words..." Ooh no! We don't want to be rude!

So we shrink.

I am not a helicopter parent.  I like letting my kids figure out things for them selves as much as they can, I do not feel the need to fight all of their battles for them. I want them to be able to experience the lessons that scrapped knees and hurt feelings have to offer. This is not the kind of play that concerns me. I am talking about complete, 100%  disregard for anything and anyone surrounding you. And I'm sorry, but give your kids a little credit. They are not too young to understand, these lessons start the moment the behavior does. At least that is what I have always believed...

That is why I am honestly asking. Because it is midnight and I can't sleep because so many of these scenarios are running through my head and I Don't Understand.

The world is a harsh place. Finding a balance for my wee ones can feel like an impossible task. And again I will be honest with you. I believe in the "it takes a village" parenting idea. If my babies are out of line and I do not see it, please - correct their behavior. Because rest assured, I will do the same for your children. If I see danger or malice around a child I will address it, that kind of behavior will not be tolerated on my watch. If this bothers you then please, let me know. I will stop. I will leave your child be, but be fair warned. If you do not correct the dangerous behavior, my children will be removed from your child. Because it is my job first and foremost to keep my kids safe. As it is yours.

My goal, is to place agreeable determinedly courageous thoughts at the forefront of my children's minds as much as I can, especially when they are small. It is my job as their parent.

For you see...

"Where you tend a rose, A thistle cannot grow.”  -F.H.B.

  Let us tend our roses well. Both those of our children as well as in ourselves. And let us hold one another accountable. I know I need reminders sometimes. The thorns need pruning quite often.

For God's sake, please! Tend your roses well.