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.

You Don't Always Get What You Want

The other day I admonished my preschooler in the car for whiningly demanding yet another trip to the toy store.

“Son, you might as well learn this now and save yourself a lot of heartache. You don’t always get what you want.”

I then ignored his whining for the rest of the car ride. Eventually the catchy tune on the radio diverted his attention or he simply gave up.

A few hours passed, and the toy quest had been forgotten. But now the tables have turned. I’ve been researching online for our upcoming relocation, and this spoiled mama has been whining to her best friend about her desire to live in a trendy urban neighborhood with a short commute. And drum roll, please….I literally just realized that I really may not get what I want! (Best Friend already knows this, but knows better than to point out the obvious when Spoiled Wifey is still working things out in her head!)

I’m flabbergasted. Yes, and this is what makes me a spoiled wifey. We have to relocate to a major US city for hubby’s work. We are fortunate to receive a housing allowance. I just assumed that we would live in the same city as he worked (and that’s with the assumption we would be downsizing from a roomy suburban setting to a space-conscious urban setting). My harsh reality is that we cannot afford to live in said town on a single income with our present obligations. There are tough choices ahead to include the “W” word.

Spoiled Wifey Moment: I’m pissed that I might have to go back to work to pay for an empty house in a suburban town that I HATE (especially considering that if this obligation would go away, we just might be able to live where we want!)! I’m doubly pissed that I have to even consider going back to work prematurely, especially since this is my last year with the preschooler before he officially starts school.

There is nothing like parenting to make you experience IRONY first-hand.