This a from a blog called NE thoughts?

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It was a few weeks before my 40^th birthday I was wrestling with the idea of entering a new decade. The 40s. I wasn’t harboring any regrets or anything like that.  And I hate labels, middle aged, middle ages, it sounds so draconian and bleak.  And I was the opposite of that, I was a happy fairly new mom, my boy was just about to enter kindergarten.  My house was becoming a home, with a big black lab entering her own mid life mark.  I was happy at work.  I was comfortable in my own skin.  It just seemed like one of those times in your life that you need to mark.  An opportunity to reflect.

And that’s how I ended up in tattoo parlor, skimming through binder after binder, page after page of flesh and ink. Skulls, daggers, drops of blood, mermaids, butterflies, tigers.  I went there with Laurie, my son’s caregiver and just a year behind me.  She chooses a big purple lizard to be forever crawling up her body.  His tail starts somewhere on her lower back and his snout comes up just shy of her ribs.  Interesting choice.

I continue to thumb through the pages, looking for inspiration. A tattoo seemed like the perfect idea to mark the occasion.  Sort of like a passport stamp. Entering another phase of life.  But what statement did I really want to make about this step and it had to be something genuine that I could live with forever, because honestly a bright blue bird building a nest just above your butt crack might be interesting but it’s not something you’re going roll down your pants and show your grandchildren.  And then there it was.  A simple blue and green medallion, not much bigger than a 50 cent piece.  To most people it looks like some combination of a sand dollar and an Indian mandala.  But to me it looked like what happiness would be if it was something you could take a picture of, it reminded me of a sun, a star that gives life and my son.  It was a statement about my state of mind, a physical mantra about choosing to be happy, to exude a sunny disposition, to live life in gratitude and it was meant to represent the gift of having a son.  Grounding wire in my life and a thread into the fabric of the future.  This little medallion sits right between my shoulder blades, something I rarely get to see, but something I get to feel every day.