Friending Your Mom on Facebook is a BAD Idea When You are Talking About Tattoos

Yes, I am a Suburban Housewife who wants to get some ink.  It’s trendy. It makes me feel not quite so homely.  The tats are for me, my self-expression.  (Although I ain’t gonna lie, Hubby thinks it’s HOT.  And well, anything to keep the fires going is probably worth pursuing.)  So Hubby and I attended the DC Tattoo Convention this past weekend with the hopes of meeting some local artists and preview their portfolios. 

I returned home very excited about the prospect, thinking about the work I want done and what it symbolizes to me.  Of course, it’s not official until I post it on Facebook.  My post:

Sorry, Mom! But I'm one step closer to getting inked. Just got home from the DC Tattoo Convention. Butterflies, dragons, and a lil crab. ;)

I got a few likes and comments from my friends.  And then my Mom weighed in with

You are not JOLIE and ERIC is not PITT. KEEP YOUR SKIN FROM INTENTIONAL BLEMISH. WHY GO THROUGH THE PAIN. LOVE YOU MUCH. BE CLEAN...

I am nothing but amused.  And yes, she did write in ALL CAPS.  But it gets better.  My sister chimes in with

            LMAO! (at mom's comment) I'm next...Shhh! I'm thinking a sleeve..

Mom’s reply:

What does LMSO mean? just voicing my opinion. You are adults who decide what is best for you, whether I agree with you or not, you are in control. MY love is always with both of you.

Oy!

When I called home for my weekly check-in, I got an earful.  After her 20-minute tirade, she ended it with “But it’s your body.  You are old enough to do whatever you want.”  You think?! 

I got nothing but love for my mother.  But I am still building up my patience reserves for when she sees all the tats for the first time.

Teething Baby = Cranky. Needy. Insomniac. Up every 2 hours.

Teething Baby = Cranky.  Needy.  Insomniac.  Up every 2 hours.

Mom Tending to Teething Baby = Exhausted.

Last night was a rough night for both of us.  Victoria was only happy as long as she was touching Mommy in some way.  When she is feeling miserable, having me within sight is not enough.  She needs cuddle time. Which  means it was decision time for me.  Let her cry it out--my least favorite option (too grating on my nerves not to mention the psychological damage the experts are now spouting off about).  Carry her around while I finish up cleaning the kitchen (It’s like an extra workout – carrying 20 pounds around.).  Attempt to hang out online with her on my lap (Too much interference -- As I type one-handed, she is on my lap, cooing, playing with a teether, and is a snot bucket.)  Or go into cuddle mode.

Cuddle Mode wins out, primarily because I had been trying to get her to sleep since 7:30 and clearly at 10:30 with an awake, fussy baby, my other attempts had failed.  I anticipated there would be many interruptions to my sleep, so I set up camp on the living room floor with the baby corral.  The baby corral covers a large enough space for me to sleep in comfortably while giving Baby Girl enough freedom to explore and play safely with slumbering mama near her side. I know she’s safe and I can get my much needed zzzz’s.  The good news about this set-up is that when she wakes up crying, I can nurse her and tend to her needs half-asleep. 

I think what is so bewildering about Motherhood is that so much of it is just Attempting and Hoping that you are doing right.  So before bedtime, I attempted to give her Motrin and hoped that she ingested enough to actually  make a difference.  That little stinker puts everything in her mouth EXCEPT the things that will make a positive difference.  And forget the Orajel.  She had her mouth firmly clamped shut with that attempt!

As predicted, we were up every 2 hours.  So needless to say, when Little Man came bounding into the living room this morning, I was less than thrilled to be up for morning duty.  I got through it but without coffee!!  I was too tired to figure out why my Keurig wasn’t working.  I’m sure it’s a simple fix but sleep deprivation does me no favors.  Thankfully, as soon as the Boy was off to school, Baby Girl and I headed back to our beds for nap.  That is the perk of being a SAHM with no set schedule.  Whenever I seriously consider going back to work, those long nights of fussy baby, interrupted sleep patterns, and tiredness, while infrequent, makes me reconsider.  Some type of Work Outside the Home will always be there, right? (I hope!)

Two hours later, rested and regrouped, Baby Girl and I are ready to face the day.  We haven’t left the house.  It’s a Domestic Bliss kind of day.  And now it’s about that time to go meet the bus.

P.S. I dislike cleaning out the fridge. Ugh!