My husband and I always said that we wanted three kids because we each came from three kid families. But then after our first son was born, we were like—Whoa, hold the phone. How about we have just two of these little suckers so that we aren’t outnumbered?
Not like my first son was a total hellion or anything, but babies are a time suck, and they also cost monies. Two kids and two adults in our house works great for us. My second son just turned six months old, and, coincidentally, that’s also the age of my husband’s vasectomy. Hey-o! So, the baby factory is 100% closed forever, unless we become one of those freak stories where it doesn’t “take.” But that’s a whole different story altogether that makes me want to vomit just thinking about it.
For my Christmas present, my husband is paying for my stomach tatt, per my request—which means that I definitely, for sure can’t get pregnant again, or else my awesome tatt will look all stretchy and unsightly. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I decided that I’m going to get my sons’ names across the side of my stomach, written together all in one line in an attractive little font: “elliottliamjonahreed” (Elliott Liam, Jonah Reed)
I already have my husband’s first name in his signature on the inside of my wrist. I also have a flock of birds in silhouette flying across my shoulder. I didn’t get my first tattoo until I was 25 or so, but these things really are addicting. I think that my kids’ names will probably be my last tattoo because I don’t want to mess with a good thing, and I don’t have any more brilliant ideas (or any more kid’s names to tattoo on my body, thank the Lord above).
I do know based on an older selfie thread that quite a few Mommyish readers have beautiful ink. So, please inspire me with your awesome tattoos or feel free to frighten me by showing me pictures of shrunken stomach tattoos postpartum. I don’t mind. I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours:
(photo: Getty Images)