I was proud of myself, even though the question caught me off-guard. “Mom, when can I have a tattoo?” My six year-old posed the request and, even though I didn’t really feel like outlining my hopes and dreams and fears for her in the middle of dinner prep, I knew I really didn’t have a choice. The hard parts of motherhood wait for no man’s spinach enchiladas.  So. I stepped up and mothered, dammit. I explained the concept of permanence, {Read More}