Wednesday, 02 December 2009

• A Mother's Confession, I Miss Cigarettes (and My Old Life)

  Guest Post by Mama TRUE
  

  
  

  I know I’m not supposed to say it, much less want them, but I miss cigarettes. I miss the smell of them on my fingers, a cigarette with my morning coffee or after a big meal. As absolutely ridiculous as it sounds, I miss how they helped me to just sit down, take a minute, and breathe. Yes, I realize that all that breathing entailed inhaling carcinogens, that cigarettes are stupid and deadly and expensive, but they were for a time when the only person I was really responsible for was myself. If I did something dumb or dangerous, the only person I endangered was me.

  Now, I’m conscious of changing my eating habits so my son doesn’t grow up craving the same kind of comfort foods I do, mac and cheese, ice cream, French bread with butter,all high fat, high cholesterol, or sugar filled. What I feed him will shape his tastes, his cravings. What he watches me eat or drink gains admittance into his world whether I let him eat it or not. And the same goes for exercise. I don’t want him to grow up thinking it’s a chore, or a means to lose weight because of above-mentioned comfort foods. I want it to be a fun part of his life: soccer, skiing, and walking he can learn to work with a team (boy, do I wish I were better at that), get an adrenaline rush while being in nature, and have a method of relaxing  while taking care of his body in a way that fits into his everyday life, that isn’t some add-on just because it’s good for him.

  Now, I wear my seat belt, only drive five or ten miles over the speed limit, and for a big thrill, I go out with a friend and maybe have two margaritas.  This is the definition of growing up, right? Putting the wild times behind us so that people don’t even know who we used to be or what we’ve done or gone through? What’s gotten me thinking about this is that I had three separate conversations with mamas last week, all of whom initiated the topic of who they’d been before motherhood. Every single one of them said they didn’t feel like they fit in with the other mamas because of what their pasts had been like. I commiserate a little. Mostly, I say that I think people, almost every one of us, has stories that, if shared, would be met with a chorus of "me-too’s" and “let-me-tell-you-about-the-time-I…”.

  The reality for most of us is that this sane, conscientious, responsible role we’re playing now that we’re parents is not who we’ve always been, and isn’t exactly even who we are now. The shame of it is a bunch of people feeling lonely or like outsiders because no one’s talking about the past that formed them. They’re busy with potty-training and searching for pre-schools. As am I. But I’ll tell you that when the diaper’s off and the poop comes rolling down the sweatpants leg and my toddler is crying for me to “get it out,” you know what would really help some days? A cigarette break. A spur of the moment road trip with a car-full of buddies who are also happy to blow off whatever they were supposed to do for the next few days. Or a  mosh pit. I miss it. Some days, I miss that old life a lot.

  What do you miss about the life you led before motherhood?
  

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