Race cars and Tattoos

I suppose it’s appropriate that this post is about race cars and tattoos since we’re about to head to Florida for 5 weeks.

But in the spirit of honesty, the race cars we had going at the house last weekend were not the Nascar variety, but rather Matchbox.


“Hi, my name is Q, I’m now four years old and I’m addicted to miniature metal cars.”

“Hi Q”

When I asked him a few weeks ago what he wanted to do for his birthday, he responded very quickly “I want a race car party.”

So that’s what he got. Family presents started arriving and my office at school looked like a tiny Daytona Beach.

He was super excited about his new treasures.


All of his friends came over and it was a chaos of cars, spinning wheel sounds, toddling babies and big kids learning how to share. Lots of tantrums, spilled cupcakes and fun. Also really nice to be with a crowd of friends with kids this age. Nobody bats an eye at all the weird kid behaviors.


I can’t believe he’s four years old already. He’s potty trained, opens his car door and climbs in by himself, has opinions about what he wears, eats, goes. It blows my mind that he’s starting school next year. Wasn’t he just a little bubba cradled in my arms?


It’s so cliche, but it all goes so fast. I’m trying my best every day to remember that and slow things down, embrace the little moments, say yes more often.

And not to let things stress me out. Even when I’m driving by myself and there’s a new traffic pattern at the turn of death that is causing a very dangerous turn to become ridiculous. And Rowen is crying, and Quincy is telling me over and over and over that his sister is unhappy and asking me why. Cars are honking, and my nervous system is in a rave with strobe light and glow sticks. But I manage to keep it together.


And then we finally got through it, got home, parked the car and I turned around because they were laughing.


And it’s always ok, every single time.


That’s why I’m in the market for some ink. I have an idea I’ve been thinking about for awhile now, something to remind me of this mindset everyday.

Ryan and I went to a tattoo convention they were holding in Moscow last weekend and it was really cool to see so many different artists and the types of tattoos they do. It was also a bit outside my usual comfort zone, but in an interesting way, not a scary one. We looked decidedly out of place, until I saw the first person walk by holding a baby. From that point on I felt more at home.


I think I may have found the artist I like, so stay tuned, new things are coming!

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