Fortune Teller. Chapter 2.

You know how my left foot is covered with a giant tattoo of the ocean, all done in black and grey, and then there's that pink floating lotus flower on my outer ankle and a snow flake on my inner ankle??? Of course when I got it, it had plenty of meaning, but I never knew I was getting a tattoo of the future.

I had absolutely no clue my snow flake was the tip of an iceberg. I had not an inkling my dark waves were going to be the waves of constant struggles and emotions my future son would endure. I had no idea what my lotus flower was going to withstand, holding it's form and color no matter what. 

If everyone knew the future and what their personal journey of parenthood embodied for them, they might never take the plunge. ALL I can remember worrying about in reference to parenthood was losing precious sleep. That's it. I never considered a single other struggle that could come my way. It makes me chuckle just to think about that.

I am brave. I am strong. I am a mama bear. 

Dillon has a really good grasp on language now (yay). It's been a year since the last time I counted how many words were in his sentence, or sighed because the only brief sentences he muttered were scripted or a repeat of what I had just said. He still scripts some and repeats himself a lot, but he also has plenty of original thought language, great functional language, can process and express his emotional state with language, and even cracks a joke every now and then.

Patrick and I laughed so hard at the beach when I was stretching on the sand, and Dillon came up to me, squirting me in the head with his water gun while giggling and saying, "Oh! Sorry about your hat, Mommy!!" It was such a totally normal 5 year old boy thing to do, I couldn't even be mad. 

He doesn't always want to, though; it takes so much more effort for him to think in words. Often he just wants to completely zone out and watch his favorite show, Oscar's Oasis (that has zero words.....it's kinda like a modern day Roadrunner and Coyote). He can reenact every scene down to the tiniest detail from any show he watches (as he does all the time), and do a puzzle in record speed (especially those really hard slide puzzles), but it takes bribery to get a detail out of him about his day, and the detail is usually such a strange or small piece of information that I don't know what do with it.

As a word oriented person in a word oriented world, this is difficult for me. 

It's not countable the amount of times I've heard, "I'm frustrated" and "I can't do it" lately. It breaks my heart to hear him say this so many times a day. How terrible is it to have so many negative emotions all day long? I know his brain is working overtime, that all these "typical" moments take extra effort, and he gets tired, but what is he going to remember about these days?

As an internal optimist and someone who always has the feeling of "I can totally do that", I don't understand. 

He worries. Oh, he worries and frets. His latest worry is about his teeth. He saw Llama Llama lose a tooth on t.v. and now he's been holding onto his teeth for the last 3 weeks, to make sure they aren't falling out.....not in a funny way. Even when he's having fun, he may stop for a few seconds to hold onto his teeth and go deep in thought about it.

I've never been a worrier. I don't worry about much. But now this kid has me mulling over things all the time.

Every single month I ask myself, "Am I doing the right things? Am I doing everything I can to help my children grow up to be happy, thriving adults? Are they happy today? What school should Dillon go to? Do I further complicate our lives for quiet childcare that he loves or send him to a place everyone else goes to that he might hate? Do I keep him in all his therapies? Am I scaring him for life with this whole feeding therapy thing? Should I change the times of everything so he doesn't miss any school? How the heck am I going to get him everywhere? Am I being selfish or unfair for not wanting to send Mabel to school yet, even though I had already sent Dillon somewhere at her same age?"

The hard days hit really hard, crashing on everyone. No one goes emotionally untouched by them. And then the good moments come and they're joyful- even the most mundane of things- and I think, "Ah ha. Is this what it's like to be normal??" We get to feel almost normal so much more than we used to, and I'm utterly grateful for each savory minute. But that doesn't stop me from wanting more. Wanting more is what's gotten us this far.

I hope I saw the future when I got my latest tattoo. You know, that one with the vibrant geometric Mama bear and her happy buzzing busy bees working hard to pollinate and do their part in the world? Ya. That one. Like Dillon says with great confidence and excitement in reference to a chocolate glazed donut behind the glass counter, "I want THAT one, please!!!!"

Time Heals All Wounds

Me: Ommigod, that really hurts. I always forget how bad it hurts!

Patrick: How in the world could you forget how bad it hurts to get a needle gouged into your skin a million times?

Me: Shrugs shoulders. I dunno. I guess time really does heal all wounds.

I started the day with an ankle and ended it with a cankle, but it was all worth it.

For 7 months I starred at flat black outlines and imagined what they would transform to when it was done. No one else could ever make any sense of the swirlies, but I knew it was going to be a masterpiece.

There's another old saying that rings true. "You can't rush art."

I said that about 3 times to the young miliatry fellow who twiddled his thumbs in the room for the last 1.5 hours, watching and waiting, and waiting some more. He came to get a sleeve started, but Germ opened the shop early, just for yours truly, and no one was pushing me off that pleather table until my sock was finished.

Most of the time I was smiling, but after 3.5 hours of the self-induced torture, my nervous system was rebelling.

It's the stages that cause the most brutality: all over black, then all over black-gray, then all over gray, etc. After each traumatic experience the tissues start to swell and bruise, becoming more sensitive and tender, making it more difficult for the ink to take.

By the time he got to the finishing touches of the white outline, I was making up excuses of needing to pee......but Germ caught onto my childish scheme and denied me bathroom privileges.

After a long debate on the best way to cover my caduceus, I'm pleased with the results.

The darker pedal next to the heart of the flower is in remembrance of the loss of our first baby, one of the most difficult grievances I've ever suffered through. Although it seemed appropriate for a part of the lotus to be a few shades darker, it still thrives on and remains vibrant. Because life goes on, and time really does start to heal wounds.

After some really serious swelling, the itching process has now set in. If my foot feels anything like a snake's entire body does before his shedding process, than I have a new found sympathy for those creepy serpent creatures.

28 years of life experiences + 4 hours of drawing + 1 hour of outlining + 3.5 hours of shading = one magnificent piece of body art.

As we lay in bed together, a couple of nights later..........

Patrick: So, what tattoo are you getting next and where will it be?

Me: Hmmmmmm......

Word for the wise: Don't wear skinny pants to get a massive tattoo on your foot. It's less than fun taking them off later.

Update: I Survived and I'm Okay

I may have been a little difficult Tuesday morning when I got sick of answering the same questions to 4 different people, 2 days in a row, even after filling out a history form about myself. I may have seemed a bit high maintenance when I refused to sign my Anesthesia consent until I spoke with the actual Anesthesiologist in person who had to convince me to undergo general anesthesia, only under the conditions she wouldn't give me enough to require intubation and the bill wouldn't be any more than any other type of sedation. And I may have gotten a little frustrated when the pre-op nurse didn't let me help her with starting my IV. But let's just blame it on my fasting induced edgy coping mechanisms. Then they came back in my room and asked, "Why didn't you tell us you were a nurse?" Egh, I really don't like to pull that card.

Patrick sat next to me the whole time and held my hand. He was refusing to eat or drink until I could (saying he got to wet his whistle when he brushed his teeth and he would be fine when he knew I was fine), but I convinced him to get something while I was in surgery so he didn't pass out, since he was my designated driver and caretaker. 

I got my push of Versed, managed a drive by kiss to the Hubby as they wheeled me to the OR and remember scooting on to the table. I thought briefly about how weird it would be for someone to cut my underwear off, and then next thing I knew I was waking up in recovery. The night before was completely sleepless, besides the one very vivid and frightening dream I had about my uterus and 3 pig fetus' falling out of my abdomen before I made it to the hospital and when I told the doctor he said that wasn't good news and my kidneys were failing due to the stress and I needed to be on a diuretic for a while. I woke up in a panic and realized the dream was just a reaction to the medicine I had to take in real life, before bed to make my cervix dilate, which really did make my uterus feel like it was falling out. Ouch. But I'm glad I gave in to the General; I woke up feeling the most rested than I have in a long time, minus the feeling of my arm catching on fire from the preservatives in the Morhpine push. 

I got to have my favorite hospital Ritz peanut butter crackers and CranGrape juice with crushed ice, and have my favorite person sit with me until I was released from recovery. My recovery nurse was so wonderful and sweet, and sent me on my way with a prescription for Hydrocodone, so I don't have to deal with the cramps anymore. 

Anytime I'm feeling a little melancholy, I look down at my feet to remind me of who I am. 

I am the lotus flower that keeps it's bright colors no matter how murky the waters. I am strong, loud, and yet still soft, like an ocean wave. I am beautiful and unique, like a snowflake. And I am the the bird that trusts in the light through the darkest of nights with the power of faith.

Then I raise my head high, because the difficult times not only mold us, but show us how to rejoice in the good. 

Thanks for sticking with me through my struggles. I promise the posts will be back to their normal silly  selves next week.  

Can we talk about how amazing these one size fits all mesh boxer brief underwear they gave me feel? They are surely the least sexy thing I've ever worn, but someone needs to find a way to recreate and patent these things to sell in stores, because they would be used to restock my underwear drawer!

When are you feeling down or lost, what do you do to help reorient yourself to who you are?

Braved the Pain

Who says Friday the 13th has to be unlucky? 

While other people in the world dealt with their irrational fear of the superstitious date, I decided to make it transformation day.

 I've had mixed feelings about getting my second sock done. Not because I didn't know what I wanted, or didn't look forward to it's beauty. My fear was aggravating the nerve pain that I've battled since I broke one of my metatarsals almost 2 years ago. It randomly radiates down my foot and through my toes, less now than before, but often still makes a nasty appearance after I've worked a few nights in a row. 

I decided to suck it up and go for it. That's what I did when I registered that for the half marathon while knowing it would be a battle with my knee pain and everything worked out in the end, right? Sometimes you just have to brave the pain to earn a gain. 

I've known exactly what I wanted for some time now, I just needed Germ to help me fit it all together in a fluid design. I think he was probably wishing he had someone to help him put it together in a design, because I literally laid on that table sweating bullets, with my foot as a canvas for 4 hours before the drawing and erasing came to a halt. After all, I can't do anything simply, and I presented him with a highly difficult project, knowing he is a talented enough artist to pull it off. Every artist needs a solid challenge every now and then, right?

1. Waves as the main focus. No one ever does that, I was informed; water is usually used as a fill in. Instead of trying to convince me to do something else, he kept at the drawing board until he was happy with the design.

2. Incorporating a snow flake into the scheme. So many snow flakes come out flat, or dull.....but we found a way to give it interest. Creating it using negative space (like with my starry night on my right foot, so the two feet will have a common artistic style).

3. To cover up my Caduceus. Not that I don't like it anymore. I do, it has special meaning to me, but it is in an extremely odd position, and more often than not, people just recognize it as a Doctor's symbol instead of representing the medical profession in itself. 

4. I wanted all of this on my foot. I guess it's a tad obvious that the foot is not the most flat or symmetrical of extremities. If that one factor isn't enough to deal with, certain parts of the foot don't hold ink well due to the nature of the skin, so the art has to flow around that.

Meaning:

For as long as I can remember, water has been a huge part of my life. I grew up on the river, never went a summer without spending hours at the lake, spent my honeymoon, and the year after, listening to the waves of the ocean, and couldn't live through a Texas summer if I didn't constantly stay submerged in agua. It is one of my lifelines.

There are many meanings to a Lotus Flower/Water Lily, all of which are positive beliefs, surrounding purity and beauty. It remains clean and vibrant, even in dirty ponds. And I take it as a duty to myself to always stay positive and smiling, vibrant as the lotus, no mater how murky the waters in life may get. Eventually a new tide will come. Oh, and did I mention I would die without the water, just as the water lily?

My snowflake has so many memories behind it. Not only is snow beautiful, every flake special and unique, it falls abundantly in the mountains.....where I was engaged.....where I spent so many family vacations......where I long to live. It's made of water, and it's tied to my happiness. 

Germ was, gingerly put, pressed for time......considering how many hours he spent just perfecting the design of my foot sleeve, AKA "sock", so he could only complete the outline work. (I guess it was an "unlucky day" for all his clients that got their appointment times pushed back a few hours at the last minute, on a friday night!) It's very abstract as of now, and I'm dying to see the finished result, but patience is a virtue..........so I hear.
I get a great deal of compliments from random strangers on my owl; I know my waves are going to be just as beautiful.
The good news is the 1 hour of needle-work didn't feel half as painful as I feared it would, and I only have a little swelling/bruising to deal with, as opposed to the post result of toughing out 3.5 hours of needle-work in my very first session on my right foot!

Do you have a tattoo? Would you ever consider getting one? Why or why not? If yes.....what would you get?

Permanently Made-Over

When I was a little girl I wasn't much different than I am today.

One: I was a bit stubborn.

Two: I had a vivid imagination.

Three: If it seemed scary at the time, I know I'd think it was fun after I did it, so I didn't hesitate. This is probably why, despite my mother's many warnings not to walk on the back ledge of the couch, I did anyway. I vaguely remember pretending to be an acrobat and walking the tight rope. The only problem is, there was no net to catch me when I fell. And I did. Three days later my parents finally took me to the doctor, where it was discovered I had a broken arm that required a hard cast.

Four: I was one tough cookie.



I took a road trip to visit my Nana and Cousin Allison last week and got my first sock completed. (It only took me 5 months!) You can click here and here if you don't remember every single word or detail of when I first started.

The experience was a little different than any other tattooing adventure I'd ever had before, since I have been taking antibiotics, and therefore couldn't take a couple of preliminary shots to numb the senses. My starry night background only entailed shading, so I thought the lack of outlining would cut down dramatically on the amount of pain involved. That was until I found out about a little technique called "blood lining". Basically he outlined all my stars with water, to cut into my skin the way a real outline would (just without ink), so I would bleed enough to show where to start the shading process. Barbaric technique.

We were all very nervous about the results, but it all turned out awesome! A few days of swelling and bruising down, and the itching phase has really set in today!

I WILL NOT scratch, I WILL NOT scratch............

"Faith is the bird that trusts in the light through the darkest of nights."

     Five: I've always loved Mexican Food. Cousin A and I went to eat some fajitas at a little place in Temple after my inking event was over. It was such a strange dinner. You know it's authentic when your waitress can't even speak enough English to understand what you ordered and there's club music and disco lights with a D.J. yelling "ugh!" & "yeah!" every few minutes, in the adjacent room.



They had the audacity to insult our intelligence by warning us our fajitas were "caliente" when placed on our table. Really? So that's what steam and a sizzling sound means?





It's officially my Birthday week, so I kicked it off early having sopapilla's with my honey (not to be confused with "my Hunny")

Six: My mom always kept my hair short. I don't blame her really. I was a huge tom-boy and always in to everything. It was only a problem when everyone thought I was the boy, and my brother with the blue eyes and long blonde mullet-locks was the girl.



The very next day I went to my hair stylist for the first time in ages and had a little something-something done to my head. I was ready for a change. So, I showed him about 6 different pictures of completely contradicting hair styles and said, "Chopped it off!" I always have a case of naked-face-syndrome when I do that, but it grows on me after a few days.

Do you have any similarities between your current self and your childhood self? What's your favorite kind of food?

Deeper than Skin

What does my first sock mean to me, you ask?

Hoot Owl: Standing for my earned wisdom and wisdom to come, also representing that I could "give a hoot" about what others think, and I'd rather stay up late than get up early.

Cherry Blossom: To represent my own individualism, strength and beauty.

Celtic Cross: This one's an oldy, already residing on my ankle from when I was 18. It represents my Savior and will always be one of the first things I got to do as an "adult" to express myself.

Stars as background: (This part won't be finished until I go back after my first session is healed.) In remembrance of our time living in Hollywood on the walk of fame amongst the stars, where our hearts stay, and that KpLove will always be stars of our own life.

 

Outline complete 





Shading complete, with my fuzzy cross in view. You already can't see my ankle at this point, with the wimpy swelling, not it's hardcore.





It's almost done! It took hours of research, 1.5 hours of drawing in the shop to put all my favorite things together and then to design it on my foot, and 3.5 hours of needle time, but I now have a beauty to show for it.

I can't wait to appreciate it more after my extreme swelling and bruising subsides, and am even more excited to have it completely finished. Until then, I already can't stop looking at it (partly because I'm amazed at how stretched my skin is right now without bursting open, and partly because I love it so much). I'm also especially happy that Germ, the artist, fixed my old cross for me. It now has the swirly detail back that I initially loved it for. Thanks Germ!