Tattoos

My daughter has got her tattoo. I am sad. I am also wondering why I am sad, because, actually, it is rather nice, it suits her, it is well done and I am proud of her for having the bottle to do it. She designed it, checked around for a reputable and respected tattooer (?) and drove herself to Whiteley Bay to have it done, having first saved the money she needed. So what is my problem ?
I think it is because, inevitably, I am a product of my age and upbringing. Girlchild sees it as body art chosen by her, I see it as a sort of mutilation that will mean she is judged by some, who will take it as a badge of affiliation to a subgroup in society, I am concerned she will regret it in later life, she says it is part of who she is.
So, a worried Mother or someone who should be happy her daughter is confident in who she is ? Perhaps I need to learn from her example, I shouldn't spend my life saying "What if.." but say "That looks fun, lets have a go....."

I'm still not going to get a tattoo though !

Boychild and the frazzled mother

I was really excited about boychild coming home, yay for boychild etc, etc. That was 48 hours ago.
Reality has kicked in.
(Please remember while reading this post that I was a perfect teenager/student and caused my parents no grief whatsoever)
OK, first up - seven loads of washing
By Sunday evening 7 pint glasses had disappeared into his room but not returned (this did not stop complaints that there were no clean, large glasses - it did result in me having a dead leg, but that is just too complicated to explain other than it wasn't his fault)
Monday morning - I had a long conversation with boychild about the importance of him attending his dental appointment at "2pm, yes, that is two-o-clock, yes, this afternoon, today.... " It wasn't a complete surprise to me when I got a phone call this afternoon, at ten past two, asking me what time his appointment was. When I remonstrated with him I was told that when I spoke to him this morning he was actually asleep ?? WTF ?
There is no blood on the carpet but I am counting the days............

They're very quiet up there.......

"An 18-year-old has secretly painted a 60ft drawing of a phallus on the roof of his parents' £1million mansion in Berkshire. It was there for a year before his parents found out. They say he'll have to scrub it off when he gets back from travelling."

(they never had stories like this on Newsround when I was a gel)

And let that be a warning to you. Never let your children on the roof !

Mothers Day and hubris

So, there I was, thinking I wasn't doing too badly as a Mum now - hasten to add I was all time appalling champion of bad motherdom when mine were young, but now - communication takes place, I am allowed out with older offspring and his friends (very occasionally) and even girlchild says thank you sometimes and the disdainful lipcurl is seen less often.
But today, humph... I was given an orchid (to replace the one eaten by her cats), but with no more than a "here, oh, btw, can I have the car later, I'm not going to be in this afternoon now" and no card.................. at all...................... from a creature doing graphics !
Boychild did ring, (not quite spontaneously, as I had marked today on his calendar, when I visited him last week, with a thick black marker pen. I am not known for subtlety). He did then admit that he would appreciate further funding having bought himself sandals (he is disinherited) and some Tommy Hilfigger swimming trunks (he is no longer my son). Mothers Day is full of surprises isn't it ?!