Cigarettes

I’m not proud. The bestie was here and we smoked ’em while we had ’em.

And today I’m stopping. Its been about three weeks? at least two full weeks. And i’d love to tell you I was just dabbling, but no. I had to tell my kids and everything, because I was whole hog and I couldn’t stand the idea of sneaking around. That’s not my bag.

Its not okay. And I’m going to be a full-on bitch while I try to kick it again. FULL ON.

There is this though. I found pieces of myself that I thought were gone when she (the bestie) was here. And then another old friend visited, and I found some more. I don’t know where the hell they were, but I certainly hadn’t seen them for a decade or so. And part of that was the person that I am, the woman who puts herself first, before the kids, before the overwhelming responsibility of parenting.

If you don’t have kids, thats allright, take my word for it. It is all-consuming for me. I work at home, I love my kids, I do everything in my power for them, all the time, even if it is just availability. They are the sun and the moon, and I still manage to not be a helicopter mom. I watch them with delight and I have time to listen when they actually decide to speak. Two teenager boys and a girl who might as well be. The times are big here, the issues enormous. Driving, military interests, girls, boys, friends, fear, first rejections, bravery.

The cigarette meant that I was that person before all of that. A person who could just walk out the door and sit without caring for anyone else. Free. In three minute intervals.

It got my dander UP, lets just say. (as if anyone but me would ever type a weirdass thing like that.)

I’m shook up. I need to figure out how to feel like that person again. If I chase that feeling, without giving myself lung cancer, what will it look like?

I had joy. I had a best friend. I had a life, a history, opinions, and laughter. So much laughter. A healthy dose of sexuality. An independence from my children and my obligations and love for them.

Maybe its a midlife crisis. I’d prefer to think of it as an awakening.

I went sailing for chrissakes. The kids were left to fend for themselves for dinner. Can you even believe that? Guess what? They were totally fine. And I was even better than that.

So that is where I am at. FULL ON BITCH. and trying to chase a drift of smoke.

here.

love love.

me.