I'm a parent. I have tattoos. I have several tattoos. I am a tattooed parent. I am also a pierced parent and I like to think I am, coincidentally, a good parent. Yes, I may look a little different with my various interests strewn across my body. I like to think that I've made my flesh a little more interesting with my decorations. I didn't do it to please you. I didn't do it to offend you. Honestly, I don't give a diddly what you think about my appearance. I'm happy in my own skin and I'm teaching my children that those that mind don't matter and those that matter don't mind. You can tell your children within earshot how tacky you think I look and I can also tell my children quite loudly that it's rude to point out such things.
I know I'm not normal. I've never been normal. I once had the urge to fit in around middle school, but, thankfully, it went away. I'm not raising normal children. I'm teaching them that it's awesome to be different. The things that make you special are great. My oldest child is ridiculously flexible. My middle child is insanely creative. My youngest child is an insane little ball of energy that can dream up anything. They're these amazingly special little people who just may grow up to wear their uniqueness on the outside.
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