I always like it when mamas talk about what motherhood is actually like, rather than faking the Stepford soccer mom personality we all feel like we're "supposed" to have. Today was the first day of school for my kid and I'm frazzled, so in honor of mamas everywhere who are gearing up for the new school year and dragging themselves and their kids through Target or KMart in search of the lists of required school supplies, I thought I'd say a little bit today about parents and drug use.

Y'all might (or might not) remember the flamewars about meth users and women who drink while pregnant. And maybe you're aware of Frank Owen's new book about meth, which is getting good reviews --Owen argues that each era has its representative drug, and that meth is all the rage right now in part because it serves our desire for busy, focused, productivity, which makes sense to me.

And here's another nice piece that goes beyond the conventional wisdom about drug use, specifically, drug use as a parent. In Highlights, Babble's "Bad Parent" column, L.J. Wilson, bless her, talks about why smoking pot makes her a better parent, dammit.

Amen, my sister. I don't smoke pot--it just makes me paranoid, and I don't really enjoy it--but god knows there are days when mama needs a drink and a cigarette, thankyouverymuch. And of course there's the anti-depressants. What can I say, I'm a traditionalist: the old-school mother's little helpers work just fine for me. But hey, if Mama Wilson wants to smoke a joint now and again, far be it from me to criticize her for that.

Now of course, before everyone gets all shrill n' shit, blah blah drug addiction is a serious problem, blah blah bad example for the kiddos, blah blah children are the Most Important Things In Our Lives, blah blah. The point here isn't to promote parental addiction. The point is that parents are actual human beings, just like everyone else. Some of us are as conventional and safe as Ward and June; but some of us enjoy a drink or a joint or an occasional lost weekend just like anyone else. And yeah, some of us are seriously fucked up. But just like "regular" people, most parents are actually capable of using yer common recreational drugs responsibly (and those who aren't, aren't gonna stop being fucked up just because Society Disapproves, alas.)

So yeah. If you're a mom (or a dad) with that brain-dead "jesus, how many stores do I have to go to to find oil pastels, dammit" thing going on, or if you're an impatient child-free sort who feels bitchy and impatient with all those back-to-school families that seem to be everywhere again, pour yourself a fucking drink, fire up a joint, whatever. Chill out. In a few weeks we'll all be back to normal again--whatever that means.

Bitch_PhD is, in fact, a soccer mom this year.

Here's some cheerful news to start your weekend with: if you're a mom, you're going to earn less than if you aren't.

And no, it isn't because moms "choose" to work less, or take time off, or any of the lovely excuses people like to offer to imply that it's Your Own Fault. It's because employers, shown two women's resumes that are exactly the same, will actively discriminate against the one that implies that the applicant is a mom--even when being a mom actually means you've got more managerial experience on your resume than the competition:

Less money, higher expenses (e.g., childcare--not to mention clothes and books and food and toys for the kids). No wonder when families are looking at who's going to cut back on work hours, it often ends up being the mom--because, after all, she earns less money. And then, of course, she's applying for her next job with a gap in her resume, and on it goes.

Enjoy the kiddos this weekend. Try not to punch your boss on Monday.

Bitch_PhD, who quit her professorial job to become a free lance writer and primary parent in part because her BS-holding husband can earn two or three times what she can as a professor, isn't pissed off about this kind of thing at all. No. Really. Okay, maybe just a little.

While the tattoo news this week was dominated by demure, feel-good stories about tattooed women, I'd first like to take a moment and give a shout out to the ole tramp stamp.

Call them ass antlers, hag tags, or cum catchers, the lower back tattoo has been getting a bum rap—particularly by the heavily tattooed—as a poseur girl fashion trend, labeling the wearer as deep and stimulating as Nelly Furtado lyrics. I dissent. A lower back tattoo does not render one vapid just as full sleeves or unmarked skin does not make one Proust. But I do agree with the stereotype where the tattoo evokes sex.

"Tattoo on the lower back? Might as well be a bulls eye."

This oft-quoted line by Vince Vaughn's character in the Wedding Crashers hits the mark. It relays the idea that frigid women just don't pull down their pants at tattoo studios and get needled. I can vouch for this by personal experience.



I, too, was once a member of the tramp stamp club [see above] until I extended it to a full backpiece. My first tattoo, over twelve years ago, was a small symbol derived from Alexander the Great's crest to mark my (then) philosophy, ethnicity, and to separate me from some of the conservative asses I met in law school. Yet, what I noticed when I bent down in my hip huggers (a cyclical fashion trend) was that people didn't see my lower back tattoo and think I was a scholarly free-thinking Greek. They thought I was a hot babe. And I liked it.

I had strategically placed my tattoo above the butt to hide it but because of the reaction I received with my inadvertent displays, that all changed. My shirts got higher, my jeans even lower, and underwear became optional. If I liked someone in class, I made sure to sit in front of him. Leaning over a bar assured a phone number as it instantly became a talking point for the guy next to me to approach without having to come up with a cheesy line.

I subsequently got more tattoos and, while they were all custom and had other significance, they also took into consideration that the work attracted men, especially tattooed men for whom I have a certain weakness. The moment I went further and tattooed a most visible part of my body, my hand, I wound up sleeping with the sexiest man I ever met, my husband.

So, for me, tattoos have always been about sex and attractiveness as well as about art and ideology. This brings me – finally – to this past week's news and what can be seen as the homogenization of the tattooed woman.

For mainstream journalists, tattoos on a biker mama is not news. Tattoos on a soccer mom is; it's all part of the man-bites-dog genre of reporting as opposed to the other way around. So in articles on the popularity of the art, the focus is on how "normal" people are getting tattooed. This notion and the resulting societal acceptance is arguably a great thing for tattoo artists and aficionados; the problem is when the reportage leaves biker mamas on the side of the road. Bikers, criminals, soldiers, sluts et al are still getting tattooed. They just don't make for good headlines any more.

For example, not one but three articles this week looked at mothers as a large demographic of the tattooed population.

In one entitled Tattoos: increasingly a family affair, the focus was on women getting tattoos to commemorate the births of their children, even likening the pain to labor, and quoting on tattooer as saying, "daughters will buy their moms tattoos as Mother's Day gifts." Heart warming but not sexy. What about adding a line on women who get tattoos to attract a sperm donor?

Then there's the Atlanta Journal-Constitution's MOMania column talking about the new Mommy Has a Tattoo children's book.

I thought I had lost all sex appeal, and street cred, via body art until the Miami Herald threw me bone. In its article, also titled Mommy has a tattoo, reporter Jenni Person writes about the different kinds of moms going under the needle. She started worrying me at the start with talk like this:

This quote is followed up by a former Miss Alabama talking about her tattoos on her pregnant belly as a blessing on her child, and an owner of a tattoo studio describing herself as "a scary-normal soccer-mom kind of person."

Yet, the article does go on to paint a full picture by adding this story:

That's what I'm talking about.

Now, I fully support the democratization of tattooing. In fact, I'm a flag waving revolutionary. But in celebrating the diversity of tattooed folk, let us not forget that point where, for many, it all began: right above the rear end.

Marisa_DiMattia is a lawyer and editor of Needled.com, a blog on tattoo art and culture.