I’m a big tattoo fan. Many people don’t believe it when I tell them, but I think they are a beautiful means of self-expression. A way to make your body unique and different.
None of mine are very large. For me they are little tokens of my life. Memories. Accomplishments. Desires. After the birth of my first son I decided to get his name permanently inked on my body. Here’s the original post from my old family blog…
I got a tattoo of the man in my life.
Why is it you always worry what your mom will think even when you are (almost) 30?
Well if you didn’t know this about me, I’m a little addicted to tattoos. I’m not saying I’ll be getting a back piece for full sleeves any time soon but I like to get small symbols that represent something to me.
So in honor of my son I got a small tattoo of his name on my ankle under my small sun. This makes my fifth and final tattoo, I think. You never know and I’m not making any promises, but as of now I can’t foresee a new on in the future.
I’ve been trying to find time to get LIttle Bean’s name added, and while in San Diego I found a friendly, clean shop. I’m now happily sporting both my boys on my ankle.
Oh! And in case you are wondering, it’s a running joke with the husband. He will never be added. Only men I’ve birthed earned a permanent spot on my body.
I really thought Little Guy would be the only one.