Tattoo Trials

What does one say to a teary-eyed kindergartner regretting her tattoo?  "It's ok honey, metallic silver goes with everything."  Maybe I could have told her it brings her eyes out.  I didn't chime in with either of those responses.  I looked at her shiny, patterned neckband and listened to her woes about how the kids in class all want to stare at it.  I watched her body language as her little hands pulled the neck of her shirt up to her watering eyeballs.  I listened to her muffled cries about how she never should have let her older sister do this to her.  I heard about the Halloween candy bribing to allow the tattoo placement on the day I was at Parent-Teacher Conferences (I should have known! Yet ANOTHER reason I should have trembled before this event *See post titled Parent-Teacher Conferences).  I didn't say much because there were moments that she was completely oblivious to it's existence and others where she was gleefully showing it off to Daddy.

  All of today's mournful moaning was happening five minutes before we were to leave for the bus stop.  I had witnessed my young daughter's distress yesterday afternoon as well.  She wasn't off the bus more than three minutes before the day's drama over this prominent emblem came spilling out.  This is why I encouraged a good tub soaking last night...well, besides the dirty feet and knees from chasing her brothers and their friends while playing football.  There may have been a few hundred tiny bits of crushed leaves in her hair from her leaf pile escapades as well...this is one energetic, hardy girl.  Either way, I was surprised to see the tinny-looking, lace design encircling her neck was still very much intact this morning despite a good washing.  I admit I wasn't that concerned about the placement on Monday because I thought it would be rubbed off by Tuesday afternoon at the latest.  I had no idea these metallic tattoos that line every Super-Center store's shelves weren't as lame as the Valentine tats that are peeled half off before it's pressed flat on a forearm. 

 I sympathized with my little one this morning as she wept and told me about how the kids all gathered around yesterday to look.  I got out the baby soap and washcloth as she cried and began to rub.  When that didn't bring any change I went for the big guns: baking soda.  I hid my horror at the redness that was only making the silvery swirls appear to glow.  Great...one minute left.  "Don't worry Hon, we'll for sure get it off tonight. Time to go.  I'll grab your book bag, you get a sweatshirt."  My son and I headed out onto the porch and down the steps as she came running out.  Air sucked in through my teeth didn't really hide my surprise at her choice of her purple with pink fur trimmed, heavy winter coat zipped up to her chin. It's uncharacteristically warm out...like 72  degrees, but I knew what she was trying to camouflage.  Bus was coming and I knew I'd have a melt-down on my hands so I sent her off with a kiss and encouraging smile.

It's hours later and I've pondered one question all morning.  "Why didn't I ask her if SHE LIKED the tattoo?!?"  

  So what if the kids were looking?  They probably went home and asked to run to the store to get one and a gold version too.  It's not against the school policy to sport a fake tattoo and I could have encouraged her to rock this look (until we use the baby oil my neighbor, and veteran mother of three girls assured me would take this off...I kid you not, it's like tinfoil applied with superglue).  My young daughter IS an energetic, hardy, strong and spirited spit-fire!  If she can play football with boys six years her senior she can pull off a shiny tattoo- without fear of what others think. 

  Life is full of lessons.  Learning to listen to your own instinct about what you personally like and dislike is a hard lesson to learn.  I'm on my own journey with this very topic.  Why not give my daughter a head start now?  Clearly, I'm not a perfect Mom- but I can admit when I'm wrong.  We can learn together.  I can't wait to go greet her and hear about her day- and hopefully I'll see that winter coat shoved way down in the bottom of her bag.