Tattooed Mama

Getting a tattoo is painful and liberating at the same time. At least that's been my experience. You see, I am a tattooed mama. I haven't gotten a new tattoo in many years. Not actually, since I got my first tattoo. My first tattoo was of my son's name, and was meaningful to me. I've never had the urge for another one, though I've thought about it.

I love tattoos. Not all on me, necessarily, but I'm someone that will stop people on the street to admire their ink. It may seem odd, but I've found it an incredible expression of individuality and a beautiful way to display art. All of the sudden, however, I'm craving a new tattoo for myself.

I'm having pregnancy dreams about surrounding Reagan's name on my back with vine work that would have the children's names worked in. I'm dreaming about getting Sarah's footprints on my back. I'm dreaming about a Celtic cross on my arm, or on my shoulder. What brought this on? I have NO clue.

So, is it weird to be a Jesus loving, tattooed mama? Maybe. But I'm okay with it. After all, my focus is where it should be, on loving God with all my heart, and caring for my family.