Friday, March 30, 2012

Fan Favorites: Jiggles and the Truffle Shuffle, All to Prove a Mom Point

Another post pulled from the archives! Enjoy!!

My daughter came to me last night, after dinner, and said, 'Mom, I'm fat. Just look at my belly.' She proceeds to lift up her shirt slightly, where all I see is a belly button surrounded by skin and muscle. She's almost 9, and it has already begun.

I'm not going to sit here and blame society for my daughter's developing self-consciousness, though with the way she has been raised for the last almost 9 years, I do feel it's a huge part of what's going on in her head. My daughter is not fat. She's not even remotely fat. The child almost has a six-pack because she's a little tomboy that gets outside, plays catch, plays tennis, loves sports. But for some reason, her post-meal belly was a cause of concern for her.

So, I pulled on my Mom big girl panties, and decided to take one for the team. I stood up, pulled up my shirt, and showed my daughter what fat looks like. 'See, honey. Fat jiggles' and I proceeded to shake my belly and my love handles. She fell onto the floor in laughter. Sheesh, sweetheart, don't kick Mommy while she's down, please, especially not when she's sacrificing some dignity to prove a point to you.

Finish reading Jiggles and the Truffle Shuffle, All to Prove a Mom Point...





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Thursday, March 29, 2012

10 a Day???

Disclaimer: Before reading any further, I must let you know that, if you are not a woman, it would be in your best interest to click onto another page now. Seriously, guys, this is women talk stuff. So go... Bye... see you for tomorrow's post... If you didn't click away, then don't say I didn't warn you.

Yes, this is technically a mommy blog. I write about motherhood, my kids, the crazy things that happen in this house. Above all, though, before I was a mom, a wife, a homemaker, I was a woman. With womanly problems. And sometimes I like to shed the mommy thing for a post or two, and be just me.

So ladies, today's post is like something I used to do in the past- Women's Talk Wednesdays. Only, today isn't Wednesday, and I haven't done it in a while, but I feel like just venting about stuff that only other women would understand. Here it goes...

I had one of the largest scares ever the other day. In telling my sister about it, I found out that apparently this is a common womanly problem. It was that time of the month for me, and I ventured to the bathroom to

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Kids and Cell Phones

How young is too young to buy your child their own
cell phone?
My 10 year old has a cell phone.

No, I am not one of 'those moms', so please, keep reading before you judge. In fact, I'm quite the opposite.

When the kids and I moved 2000 miles away from their dad, I allowed him to buy her a cell phone. That way, he could talk to the kids whenever he wanted, without having to call me or have the kids use my phone. I was completely for this, and it was a relief a few times when I was on my phone and The Girl wanted to call her dad. But her dad, and her grandmothers were the only people she was allowed to call on her phone. No friends, and she was not to give the number out.

Then, around Christmas, when her dad came to visit, The Girl lost her cell phone. Though I was pissed about the lack of responsibility with keeping up with her phone, it wasn't such a huge deal because Hubby and I decided to get back together, so if he wanted to talk to the kids, I could just hand the kids my cell phone during one of our nightly conversations.

Lo and behold, during a massive clean out of the kids' closet this weekend, she finds her cell phone.

"Mom, can you tell dad I found my cell phone."
"Okay. Sure. Why?"
"So he can add minutes to it."
"And why would he do that?"
"So I can use it again."
"Why?"
"Because I found it, and it's mine, and it's a cell phone, used for calling people... if I have minutes."
"But, your dad and I are back together, so if you want to talk to him, go use my phone. We don't have a need for your phone anymore."

With this, she huffs and puffs and storms off to her room. End of story?

She's 10. Of course that's not the end of the story.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

New Inspiration = New Meat for Readers

So, I've gone and done it. Decided to start a personal journey blog. Yesterday's post about feeling like I've lost myself again completely inspired me to document my journey to find those parts of me I feel are missing. Here's a few of the questions I've been asked about it...
  • Is it another Mommy blog? Well, I'm a mommy, and it's a blog, but I wouldn't say this one is a mommy blog. It's a 'me' blog.
  • Is it going to be serious? Hell no. I'm still person that finds the humor in life, so it will still have my quirky, randomness that makes Inklings so damn funny. It will have serious moments, just like Inklings does, but I can't be serious all of the time- it's not in my nature.
  • Are you promoting it as much as Inklings? No. Both blogs will have my time and energy, but this one is more of my online journal. I will not be hooking it up to voting sites, or asking readers to pass it on or vote for it at voting sites. If you want to read it, then read it. It only has email subscription enabled right now, because everyone has email, so bookmark it or sign up for email if you want to keep up with it daily, but I'm not going to have a facebook page for it or anything like that.
  • Are you continuing Inklings? Hell yeah. Wouldn't stop writing Inklings at all. And, to share a secret (dont' let I've Lost Myself... Again know), I'm going to continue to devote the same amount of time to Inklings as I did before the new one came along. I still love both blogs equally, but (shhhhhh), Inklings is my first baby, and will always be my favorite.
So, here it is... I've Lost Myself... Again. Enjoy!!







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Monday, March 26, 2012

I Lost Myself Again, Damnit

This always seems to happen. Just when I think I've found myself, really living how I want to live, being who I know I am, I go and lose myself, again, damnit.

It's getting quite frustrating. I need one of those keychain alert systems where you shout out the secret word and it beeps so you can find your keys... one of those, attached to my soul. (I'm thinking multi-million dollar invention right there- Soul Tracker)

Since December, I really feel like my life has been on track. My husband and I rekindled our marriage after almost 4 years of being separated, I found an amazing shop to work at and got back into tattooing, I started reading again, I picked up the pace with writing for Inklings, I was keeping the house straight, the kids fed with amazing meals, was baking, getting out and doing fun things with the kids on my days off, started doing yoga again, and quit smoking. Sure, Hubby and I had no idea who was moving where so we can get our family back together (a huge life decision left to be made), but we didn't worry too much because we knew we were finally together.

Then, as it's proven to be true in the past, something comes along to knock you down a peg or two. In my case, 3 peg knockers came along, all within 2 weeks of each other.
  1. My Car. $900 for a full brake overhaul, flushes, oil change, etc. What does that get me? A busted transmission. Well, it was busted before, but doing a transmission flush just confirmed it was busted. So, I have now been without The Bus (yes, I drive a bright yellow SUV, so it looks like a mini school bus, which means yes, my family rides around in the short bus- makes sense now, huh?) for going on 2 weeks now while one mechanic here in town thought he could have his way (with no lube, by the way), with a pretty little girl whose hubby is 2000 miles away, at a cost of $3500 to fix my transmission. I did my research online, pricing parts and stuff, and found out he was trying to charge me $120 an hour for labor. When I brought this to his attention, he became speechless. I may not have been laid in a while, but sorry, you can zip your pants up- I'm not getting screwed today, especially by you. I had my car towed to another mechanic, who is doing the job for $1000. Fingers crossed I'll have it back in a few days. I miss my short bus. 

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Top 5 Most Used Apps on My Phone

Today's post is inspired by the fact that I am always on my phone, so I sat back this morning and wondered why. What is it about my phone that keeps me on it so damn much?


My apps. Seriously, I love my Droid. There's an app for everything, and when I find one I need, I add it.

So, I wanted to share with you all the 5 apps I use the most on my phone. Now, please keep in mind that these do not include games (that's a separate list all in itself, for another time). I've included links with some of them, in case you'd like to download them, but keep in mind they are links for the Droid phones. And also keep in mind that this list does not include the basic apps like email and text messaging. I use those more frequently than anything, of course.

Top 5 Most Used Apps on My Phone

  1. Facebook. This is probably a huge 'duh'. Between my personal facebook and running Inklings' facebook, I'm always on that sucker. I can upload pictures to either my page or Inklings' page, update statuses, stalk people see what my friends are up to, and check in anywhere I want, if I want people knowing where I am, that is. The downfall of the facebook app? You can't 'share' on it. If there's a link, or picture, or status, you want to pass onto your friends or fans, there's no way to just click the 'share' button, like on the actual facebook site. Something they need to fix, in my opinion.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Fan Favorites: My Rights as a Mom


Pulling another fan favorite out of archives today. Hope y'all enjoy!! ~Tatted Mom

Rights are found everywhere; human rights, civil rights, animal rights, child rights, patient rights, criminal rights... but what about Mommy Rights? I actually googled 'Mom rights' before starting this article (see, I do research for my blog), and the only thing that really came up were rights that single moms had. There are 'parental rights' out there, but they are more for making sure the kids are taken care of and what happens if they aren't. When I think Mommy Rights, I'm not thinking legal mumbo jumbo, what my core job as a parent is to my kids, and the consequences that occur if I don't fulfill that job. I'm talking about the added perks that we get for carrying a child for 9 months, gaining weight, getting stretch marks, living on virtually no sleep for years, never having personal time- not even in the bathroom, living on coffee, and constantly having to wipe butts and noses, tie shoes, turn shirts around the proper way, break up sibling fights, cook, clean and worry, a.k.a. the Joys of Motherhood.

As a Mommy, I have the Right to:
  1. Protect My Children By Any Means Necessary. This includes, but is not limited to:
    •  Threatening a school age bully myself, in a non-restraining order manner.
    •  Making sure that when my children leave the house on a cold day that they have on underwear, thermal underwear, pants, a T shirt, a long sleeve shirt, a turtleneck, a sweater, 2 pairs of socks, a hoodie, a thick jacket, gloves, a hat, ear muffs and boots. Sorry if you can't move very much, it's for your own good.
    • Killing an individual that lays a hand on my child in an inappropriate manner, a.k.a. a pedophile. Knock on wood this never happens, but if it were to occur, this right covers Mommy getting a lawyer that will try his or her best to stack the jury with sympathetic moms and dads to where Mommy comes away as 'Not Guilty' and can continue to protect my babies from outside of a jail cell.
  2. Know What Is Going on in My Children's Lives At All Times. This means I will talk to my...

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Thursday, March 22, 2012

Trying to Pass My Whoring Onto My Kids

Hi. I'm Tatted Mom, and I'm a Book Whore.

Man, it's freeing to get those words out.

I love to read. Just as much as I love to read, I love to acquire books that I think I'll read in the future. Many of them I do actually get around to reading. Many of them sit on my bookshelf for ages, and I swear that one day, I'll read them.

My book whoring started when I was a kid. My mother is a Book Whore, too, so I grew up in a house full of books. I spent my summers as a kid volunteering at the library where my grandmother worked, which means I was the kid who would reshelve the books after they were checked in, or sort them and put them on the carts, or leave the back room with a cart full of books to shelve, find a secluded section of the library (usually in non-fiction; no one read non-fiction 20 years ago), and sit in the floor and read the books on the cart before shelving them.

Yeah, did I mention I was a nerd as a kid? Proud nerd here, thank you!

Anyway, growing up, I read all of the books I acquired. I don't think the book buying but not reading starts until you get out and have your own house. My book buying addiction isn't too bad, though. I'm not one for getting books at yard sales (unless it's good as hell), but I do frequently shop the bargain books section at B&N, and recently purchased a few from Goodwill. Most of my non-fiction collection is leftover from when I owned my store a few years ago- everyone needs reference books on witchy spells, Buddhism and healing crystals, duh. Can't get rid of those.

As my kids get older, I've been trying like hell to pass my book whoring onto them. I buy them books from the book fairs at their school, from the Scholastic newspaper flyer they bring home every few weeks, from the bargain section of B&N. And what's the result? No book whores in the making, sadly.

In this day and age of video games, TV, Netflix, 3D movies, computers, tablets, etc, kids don't want to read anymore. They want to be entertained, visually. They don't want to sit still and read a book, and allow their imagination to create a movie for them. It's sad, honestly.

When I was a kid, I LOVED it when my parents got a new washer or fridge, because the box they gave me

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The New Girl in the Neighborhood

There's a new family in our apartment complex; moved in across the street. From what I know of them, there's a daughter who is The Girl's age, a son who is a little younger, and I think another one that's not in school.

The new girl is weird. And, not in the type of weird that my family says 'Hell yeah' to; the kind of weird that even makes us raise an eyebrow.

I know it's cruel as hell to say that about a 10 year old, but it's true. I have no idea what her past is, or what her current life is like, but she's weird. Like, extremely loud and obnoxious, never shuts up, and talks in a voice that sounds like a 54 year old man, kinda weird. And when she bangs on the door to see if my daughter can come out and play, she bangs on the door... like zombies are behind her and she needs inside... now, or like the cops are trying to do a raid. Then, when we fling open the door, she's just planted there, shoulders bent over, and she must think we're deaf or something, because she screams, in a deep voice, 'Can The Girl come out and play?'

My daughter was scared of her at first. No, she's not this huge, glandular problem, of a girl. She's smaller than my daughter (who, keep in mind, is only a few inches shorter than me and shaped like a bean pole), but her personality, and her attitude, is that of the giant at the top of Jack's beanstalk.

But now my daughter has embraced her. Which I'm cool with, as long as sleepovers are done away from this house. I'm not sure if I can take the loud, frumpy, giant-like, 'Excuse me, ma'am, can I have a glass of water' at 10 at night when I'm trying to relax.

It made me think, though, about how tough it is to be the new girl, for your family to move in the middle of the school year, and how much my kids have bounced around in the past few years. That's when it hit me that there are 2 types of new kids:

  • The kind that keep to themselves, blend in, and let the locals come to them.
  • The kind that try, a little to hard, to fit into their new surroundings.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

10 Things You Should Not Do When Going to Get a Tattoo

This *might* be me tattooing; or, it
might be some gorgeous random
female tattoo artist with bright red
hair that I found after googling
'awesomeness'. (It's me.)
During the day, I play a tattoo artist on TV. Okay, I really am a tattoo artist (not to be confused with my night job of a ninja assassin), and I love my job. There are certain things about my job that seriously make me want to head home and crawl back into bed, though. And, it's not just me; I've talked to the guys at the shop- they have the same pet peeves.

So, I'm going to help y'all out and give you the hook up from an insider source... me.


10 Things You Should Not Do When Going to Get a Tattoo
  1. Be Drunk or on Pills. Should go without saying, but you wouldn't believe the number of people who do it. And we've heard everything. 'It's just pain pills to help because a tattoo hurts so much,' or 'I'm sober, I swear, I just had a shot to take the edge off of getting this tattoo.' If you don't want your tattoo artist drunk or on pills, then we don't want our customers drunk or on pills. And, while yes, you do bleed slightly more when drunk, the real reason we won't tattoo you while you are intoxicated is because drunk people don't sit still. And they are loud. And annoying. And have a tendency to not remember things in the morning... like going to a tattoo shop and getting Tweety Bird on your ass. We don't want to put up with that crap.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Man Philosophy: When Did Women Stop Cooking?

It's time for another installment of Man Philosophy, written by Hubby. This one is a doozie- have fun, y'all! ~ Tatted Mom


What's up Ink people? Its Hubby again.  I was asked to write you guys another blog post and I'm always willing to help out the wife, especially when I've been promised certain things! She won't pay up 'tll I write this so... As Tatted Mom has told you all before, she and I have spent the better part of the last four years with our heads up our asses.  It was a learning experience in some ways, so I can't say it was all bad.  But, in this time, we both dated other people.  I think what we learned the most is that "other people" suck and Tatted Mom and myself are made for each other.  Now, throughout my stint with "other people", I learned some things about a lot of women that I didn't think was a big deal at first but it blows my mind now.

When did women stop cooking??

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say that the kitchen is a woman's place and you should be in there barefoot and pregnant.  But every woman in my life growing up, in my opinion, could handle herself in the kitchen.  They knew how to feed their family.   In the years I was seperated I dated a broad range of women.  I wasn't a man whore, but I met a few.  I met people through friends and met people online.  Do you know how many of them cooked?  None.  It was a trait I looked for!! Many of them had "I can't cook and hate the kitchen" written in their profiles.   This is one of a countless many reasons why I love my wife to death, she can cook!! (I'm glad I have you back baby.) 

Saturday, March 17, 2012

My Epiphany and How Badly it Sucks

I've had an epiphany. A pretty huge one. I've had that moment where you realize you absolutely love what you do, but then realize you've fallen in love with (what might be) the wrong thing.

It is amazing and sucks at the same time.

This post today will require some background, some pure unadulterated honesty, and some general rambling at times because I'm trying to figure all of this out. This is probably the largest decision my husband and I have ever had to make.

Before we get to all that, we'll go back to my epiphany. I'm a tattoo artist by day. Spent years as a tattoo artist, then went back to being a stay at home mom for a little while, now back to tattooing. And I love it. I love creating art for people, for decorating people's bodies, for creating memories that will stick with them forever. I love the shop I'm in, the people I work with, the money I make- it's all good. But two things happened this week to cause my epiphany:

  1. We had an 80 degree day outside. The first this year. Absolutely beautiful, and I had to go to work. That sucked. Not because I wanted to go joy riding or sun bathing, but because I wanted to spring clean my apartment. Seriously. I wanted to open the sliding glass door, let the warm, fresh air in, crank up some tunes, and get this apartment clean. And I couldn't, because I had to head to work.
  2. I had my biggest appointment of the week not show up. What's that like when you work a commission job? Imagine working 40 hours a week and getting a paycheck that might differ slightly week to week, but is relatively the same. Now, imagine working the same 40 hours, and making $150 less this paycheck than you did last paycheck. Yeah, sucks, right? Now imagine that you blocked off 4 hours of your day for that project, and now you have 4 hours that you could have blocked off for someone else, and still made that $150. Thus is the life of a tattoo artist.
It was with these 2 things that I realized what I'm truly in love with when it comes to my life...

My family.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Fan Favorites Friday- Kids and Cussing 101

This week I pull from the archives from over a year ago.

Kids and Cussing 101



I'm a cusser. Not the best thing for a mom to be, but hey, we all have our vices. I worked as pretty much the only female in a male dominated shop, company, and industry for 3 years; I've heard it all, participated in just about every dirty, nasty conversation there is, and, quite honestly, had to hold my own as the only female. So, I learned how to have a quick tongue (figuratively speaking), blast back insults at the men, and developed a thick skin when it came to raunchy conversation. And let me tell you, now that I've left that life behind, I've had a few people tell me they miss my ability to stand up and put people in their place.

Now that I'm back to being a stay at home mom, the cussing is a flaw more than an asset, as it was in my old life. My 8 year old knows what cuss words are, and knows not to repeat them. My 6 year old, however, will repeat just about anything for a reaction- at home, at school, on the phone with family... yeah, that was a fun one to explain. And, while it's sometimes hilarious when a kids cusses (you can't tell me it isn't, depending on how they use a word, the context, and if it was even used correctly), the hardest thing to do as a parent is to not burst out laughing when you are trying to get the 6 year old into the bath, saying 'How about you just go get into the bath?' and out of nowhere he says, 'Yeah, how about I just go brush my balls?' True story. I couldn't make that up if I wanted to. (That little saying apparently came from daycare, by the way, not me. His sister ratted him out on that one.)


Continue Reading Kids and Cussing 101 here....





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Thursday, March 15, 2012

10 Ways to Know You Are About to Spend an Ass Load of Money

There are words you can look for when you go shopping, or go out to eat, that let you know immediately that you are about to just hand your wallet over to the business. And, forget the common words of 'gourmet', or 'handmade' or 'unique'- I want to tackle ones that sound absolutely amazing, and you are glad to pay the extra amount for them... because you have no idea what they really mean.

Not anymore, now that you have Tatted Mom's dictionary handy.

This list is of 10 words that, when you see them, you should automatically think dollar signs. Some of them are warranted for the extra money (like 'fair trade'), and some are just ways for the company to get money out of you. The list today is comprised of food words.


Artisan- usually found before 'Bread' or 'Sandwiches'. Means it was made by a "skilled person", i.e. the pimply faced 16 year old virgin in the back, making minimum wage to save up for the latest edition of World of Warcraft.

Arugula- it's lettuce. Don't let them fool you, or charge you an extra $5 for it. They went outside the back door, picked whatever weeds were there, and threw it in your salad.


Asiago- fancy word for Italian cow's milk garlicy tasting cheese. The origins of asiago cheese are shrouded in deep mystery, meaning only Italian monks, who have sworn a vow of silence, who live as hermits in the remote Italian countryside, and are protected my ninjas, know where asiago cheese really comes from. My guess? Unicorn poop.

Bistro- defined as 'a small restaurant', understand that by calling themselves a 'bistro', they are going to jack

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Helga Needs to Go the Hell Home

See? Helga is laughing at me- the bitch!
Helga has visited me once again. (Helga was first introduced about a year and a half ago; her full story can be read by clicking her name, for those not familiar with her.) This time, it looks like she's staying for a little while, and she has just happened to come at a very inconvenient time.

As a refresher, Helga is the Fashion Fairy's disgruntled cousin. She sneaks into your closet at night and hides your favorite clothes, or exchanges your clothes for smaller sizes of the exact same brand and style, so you don't notice it until you go to put them on and they no longer fit.

Seriously, this bitch needs to stop visiting me.

She first came (this most recent time) around Christmas, when Hubby visited. You see, I'm an eater when I'm happy. It's when I'm stressed that my body shuts off and I end up getting down to skin and bones, being told that I need to eat a cheeseburger or two. But when I'm happy? I'll eat just about anything you put in front of me. So, if you combine the amazing holiday meals and baking with Hubby and I rekindling our love and putting our family back together- yeah, I'm surprised I could still make it out of the door without turning sideways.

Then came getting an amazing job at the tattoo shop up the street. Relaxing atmosphere, not nearly as much stress as the shop I was at in South Carolina, they work with me as far as my flexible schedule with the kids, the money is good, and I'm doing what I love. So, take the 10 pounds or so I gained at Christmas, and add a few more.

Then a mother freaking Brooklyn pizza place opened directly next door to the tattoo shop. My weakness.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Chocolate Fondant Zebra Striped Cake- Tatted Mom Style

Disclaimer: Please note, the pictures you are about to see are real; the mess is real, the pajamas are real, the wine is real, the tattoos are real, the cake is real. Please also note that this was my first attempt at using fondant icing. I do not claim to be a professional cake maker, and if the cake looks amateurish, that's because it is. But I had a great idea or two, that I wanted to pass on to those who may be able to execute the cake with more precision. Please also note, the cake tasted freaking amazing.

For The Girl's 10th birthday this year, I decided to try my hand at fondant icing. The result wasn't disastrous, but wasn't made for Cake Boss, either. We started the cake making at 11:30 at night, ended at 1:30 in the morning.

Yeah, it was a hell of a night.

Below is the step by step tutorial of a chocolate fondant zebra striped cake- Tatted Mom style, of course.


1. Gather your ingredients: 


Cake mix, boxed fondant icing, zebra sugar sheets,
 exacto knife, etc, and wine- for the baker, of course.
My daughter wanted chocolate cake with chocolate icing, and when we saw the zebra striped sugar sheets, we had to go for it. Note the most important ingredient for baking at 11:30 at night- red moscato wine. Helped me through.

2. Make cake according to directions, and here's the most important step: Lick the whisk. Don't

Sunday, March 11, 2012

The Girl's (Un)Birth Story

10 years ago today, The Girl was born. I decided, in celebration of her birthday, I'd tell you all her (un)birth story.
If only birthing was as
easy as a stork delivering
a baby...

Why unbirth?

Because on other mommy blogs, the birthing stories are perfect- unicorns and fairies helped aid in a painless water birth (no epidural of course) where the child came out not even screaming, but singing a beautiful song, and the mom never even smeared her eyeliner, and 6 weeks later, not only had she lost all of the actual baby weight, but another 10 pounds on top of that.

Yeah, screw that. This is a real birth story, Tatted Mom style, of course.

I was awakened at 4:30 one morning by stomach pains. Son of a bitch, gotta pee every 10 minutes, can't get comfortable, now I'm being woken up at 4:30 to go to the bathroom- figures. After the first trip, which yielded nothing by the way, I climbed back into bed. Then I realized I was starving, so I hobbled back out of bed and made some peanut butter sandwiches (my late night snack of choice) and then climbed back into bed. More stomach pains. They went on for 30 minutes, me getting out of bed, heading to the bathroom, nothing happening, climbing back into bed, flipping through the channels on the TV because, at this point, I had decided to give up on going back to sleep.

Son of a bitch, this is the weirdest case of diarrhea ever, I thought, because, well, there was no diarrhea. Cramps, yes, nausea, yes, but nothing else. Pregnancy is extremely screwed up.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Fan Favorites Friday- Wait, When Did I Become Retro?

Fan Favorites Friday
I've decided to pull posts out of my archives on Fridays, starting with fan favorites, and throwing in some of my favorites as well.

Today, I'm reposting 'Wait, When Did I Become Retro?' from January of last year!

Enjoy!!

This week has been Spirit Week at my kids' school, and each day they've had something fun to look forward to participating in. Today is Retro Day, and I woke up this morning in a panic. My daughter had already decided she was going as a hippie. But my son, yeah, NO idea.

So, I jumped out of bed, hauled ass to his room, and began flinging clothes out of his drawers. Seriously, not much to work with at all. Until I saw it... a black dress shirt with a larger collar, and some semi-faded jeans. Retro day, right? Wait, the 80s aren't considered retro now, are they? Holy Garden Hose Batman, they are! Oh shit....



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Thursday, March 8, 2012

White Lies and Birthday Cake Oreos

The Girl turns 10 on Sunday.

Way to make a mom feel old, huh?

She tells me, ironically enough the day after posting about how we don't do big birthday parties, that she wants a big party with all of her classmates there. Then she goes on to tell me she wants it at a skating rink, or some other big arena.

Vetoed. I know, I'm such a bitch.

I asked her if she was really good friends with anyone in her class. Her answer? Not really. Then why want a huge party?

Presents, Mom, presents.

So, I explained to her what I explained to everyone in the blog post the previous day, that if she doesn't have close friends, she doesn't need to be greedy and invite people she barely knows. She seemed bummed, until we started talking about alternatives.

Movies? Shopping? Laser tag? Museums? Big dinner? Pedicures and manicures?

She began to perk up.

She's turning 10; that's a huge milestone in a kid's life. The guilt of not doing big parties started setting in with me, because this is such an important birthday. I realized pretty quickly that we, as a family, needed to do something big to make up for my blunder.

So, I gave her the choice of playing laser tag, going to her school's winter carnival, or having her first pedicure and manicure. Little does she know, we're doing all 3.

It's going to be an exhausting weekend.

The fun part, too, is that I'm making her cake this year. It's going to be chocolate cake, chocolate fondant icing, with zebra stripes and bright purple icing. Don't worry, my funny ass attempt at a fancy schmancy cake will be documented here at Inklings, I promise.

In true Tatted Mom style (because I can't have her think everything is peachy keen; I have to have the pleasure of torturing my kids a little) here's what The Girl has been led to believe:

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Hookers and Super Glue

For those that follow the facebook page, I know I sound like a broken record, and while I want to work on not bugging people so much, let's face it, I probably won't.

I need votes. Seriously. I need votes like a fat guy needs a cholesterol check, like a dog needs an ass to sniff, like a hooker needs some super glue (think about it...... yeah, there you go, funny shit, huh?). Let me tell you why...

When I started Inklings a year and a half ago, I was rising pretty fast. Gaining a following, getting feedback, being named blogger of the week or month on various sites; things were nice.

Then I made a stupid move. Well, a few stupid moves, but ones I felt were necessary at the time. I took a break from the blogosphere, not by choice, but by only option available to me at the time. Then shit went really downhill (like, almost ended up jobless, barefoot and probably knocked up, in a single wide on blocks, with a significant other pulling unemployment and cheating on me with every vagina with legs, downhill), so I made some huge life decisions, moved, and immediately picked up Inklings on the regular again.

Bad thing is, I'd been MIA for 7 months. 7 months in the blogosphere is pretty much suicide.

So, I dug in with both heels again, have been putting in any free time I've had, and over the last 6 months,

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

My Love Affair

Just about every night, I look forward to the kids going to bed, so I can have an affair. The days I have to work, I look forward to getting off work and really partaking in my extracurricular activities, because the days I work are the days I need it the most.

Even when I get asked by coworkers to hang out after work, I usually turn the invitations down, so I can get home and see the kids for a little while before enjoying my late night fun time.

I put the kids to bed, slip into something comfortable, make some refreshments for during (because you know you work up an appetite), sometimes I'll turn the lights off, sometimes I'll keep them on, and I get started.

I know which buttons to push to get exactly what I want, I know when to speed up, when to slow down, when to repeat something, and what to skip. And the choices... oh good gracious, sometimes I have so many choices, especially if I haven't done it in a while.

And when I'm done, I fall right asleep. No tossing and turning, no mind racing, just calm, relaxed and happy.

The amazing thing is, my husband loves my affair. In fact, he gives me more choices on what to enjoy, and suggestions on new things to try. Then, we'll talk about it when I'm done.

Do I have y'all wanting to know what my love affair is, and what turns me on?

Monday, March 5, 2012

Surgery, Through a 7 Year Old's Eyes

The Ginger has his surgery tomorrow.

This momma is freaking out.

The Ginger, on the other hand, being that he's only 7, has no idea what's going on. All he knows is he's going to the doctor tomorrow morning, and they are going to take out this lump he has inside his cheek. He doesn't question how they are going to take it out, or if it will hurt. I've explained to him they will make him take a nap, but he doesn't question that, either.

When he chooses not to question things, I sometimes wonder if he got switched at birth. I question everything, so it truly amazes me that he just accepts things as they are.

I've chosen to leave him in the dark. I understand this means he will probably have a little more panic tomorrow, as it's going on, but I'm willing to deal with that then, instead of going into detail now about what's going to happen and have him refuse to go.

And how am I doing with all of this right now? Okay. Haven't processed it yet, I don't think. I'm the type of mom that tries to experience things with my kids so that I can see their viewpoint, and this time is different.

Take, for instance, when they were both babies. I would be feeding them a jar of baby food, and if they kept spitting it out, I'm the mom that tasted it to see why they were spitting it out. Oh, holy crap, sweetheart, that green beans and peas mixture does taste like ass, let's move on to the next one.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Exes are Like Diarrhea, and Other Saturday Randomness

Random funny picture to go along
with random post today...
It's a Saturday, and I'm up an hour before I'm usually up on the weekdays. Normally I fight this, but today I decided to make my cup of coffee and have some Mommy Time (no Ryan Gosling involved today).

Which means, for you all, randomness. The amazing type of randomness that only comes when I'm still half asleep and haven't had my coffee yet. Buckle yourselves in, this is me at my finest.

  • Today I'm taking the kids to see The Stinky Cheese Man theater production. I figured my family needed some culture. Yeah, that's right, so I'm taking them to a play about a stinky man. That's southern culture right there. Apparently it's some amazing kids' book that my son loves. Normally I research these things; this time I didn't. Definitely need to google that before they get up.
  • Yesterday was The Ginger's pre-surgery physical. I don't think I've quite let everything that's going to happen next week sink in yet. Which means I'll need valium next week, and damnit, I'm out of valium. And getting your prescription drugs from an actual doctor these days, especially your crazy bitch meds, is harder than trying to get a man to piss in the toilet instead of on the toilet. No wonder the prescription drug dealers on the streets are driving BMWs and Cadillacs.
  • I've been quitting smoking this week, and as I posted on facebook, the average number of cigarettes I smoked in a week: 60. Cigarettes smoked this week: 6. Average number of people I envision killing during the week: 10. Number of people I envisioned killing this week: 100. Quitting smoking increases my chance of living 90%, but decreases the chance of everyone around me living by 90%.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Our Tooth Fairy is Flaky

This is probably my kids'
Tooth Fairy.
I can't say that my mouth has never had problems before. It's gotten me in a s*itstorm of trouble in my past, which of course, is metaphorically speaking. Physically speaking, yes, problems galore. Braces, head gear, retainers, wisdom teeth cut out, and now, after all of that, my teeth moved and I am in need of braces once again, if I were to choose so.

But, holy crap, my kids? Yeah, they are driving me crazy with their mouth problems (and not just the ones from the opinionated 9 year old or the 7 year old who thinks it's funny to say, 'Yeah, the cat's sitting on the toilet. Don't bother him, he's taking a dump right now'- yes, uttered this very morning.)

My son is having oral surgery next week (and I'm doing a post specifically about that later), and my daughter had to have 2 teeth pulled and a cavity filled yesterday.

The Tooth Fairy is going broke here.

Pulled teeth are, of course, more expensive than regular old lost teeth, and having 2 teeth pulled on the same day? Yeah, double the money.

Yes, we still do the Tooth Fairy in my house. The Girl is starting to get suspicious, so she does things like hides her teeth really well under her pillow, or doesn't tell me when she loses one. The Ginger is still a believer, so thank goodness he argues with his sister about the subject.

But, the kids have come to learn a few things about the Tooth Fairy that visits our house:
  • She's not always on time. In fact, she's been known to be 2 days late in payment of a lost tooth. This is due to the fact that in the (insert current season here), tooth loss goes up 50% because it's (cold outside/ hot outside/ the time of the year to eat sweet stuff due to [insert holiday here]), so she has more stops to make.