I’d learn to sing like Cher. (Just kidding, I totally know how to sing like Cher.) Actually, the title references a guest post I did over at Chosen Chaos more than a year ago. I had the honor of being the second blogger to participate in Jamie’s weekly series that answers the question, “If you had the oppor­tu­nity to sit down with your 18-year-old self what would you say to her?”

This week we are all recapping those posts and linking up – I’m ashamed to admit I missed a few along the way. Here’s mine, follow the link and read what other bloggers had to say to their Aqua Net wearing, New Kids On The Block loving old selves.

If I Could Turn Back Time

I’m not big on regrets. When I look back at my life there really isn’t much I would change. Obvi­ously, I have made big mis­takes. I’ve used poor judge­ment. I’ve hurt peo­ple I love. Despite that, I worry that any lit­tle change would upset the course of my life.

Kind of like Back To The Future, but with­out Biff and the DeLorean.

I like the place I’m at now. I love my chil­dren and my hus­band. If I changed some­thing I might not have them. I don’t know who I would be with­out them and I wouldn’t want to find out.

How­ever, there is one thing that I would tell my 18-​​year-​​old self to avoid. I’m pretty sure chang­ing this minor thing would not dis­turb the cos­mic forces enough to make a difference.

So, 18-​​year-​​old self, skip that sec­ond tattoo.

The first one you got was fine. You and the tat­too guy drew it your­selves. Nice. It’s a daisy, which is still your favorite flower 19 years later. You got it at a time when you were sad and want­ing to remem­ber your high school boyfriend who had recently passed away. It’s lovely. A lit­tle big, but lovely.

But the sec­ond one, what were you thinking?

Were you drunk on Boone’s Farm and Key­stone Light? No one in their right  mind would get that tattoo.

For starters, you got in on your upper thigh. Hear­ing your mom yell, “I CAN”TBELIEVE YOU DROPPED YOUR PANTS FOR SOME TATTOO GUY!” will haunt you for the rest of your life.

Worse than loca­tion though, is the inspi­ra­tion. We all enjoyed Beauty and the Beast, but to get a tat­too? That’s just crazi­ness. Did it occur to you that when you are old, have FOUR chil­dren, and thighs that touch you might not want Lumiere and Fifi danc­ing on them? No self-​​respecting 36-​​year-​​old mom draws atten­tion to her thighs. Espe­cially not via a Dis­ney tattoo.

So. Stupid.

Skip the second tattoo. Seriously.