One Damned Funny Blog

Love, laughter and autism.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

I Dream of Cigarettes (5.05.06)

Now I KNOW I'm going to win the Mother of the Year award for this one.

My son Colin just pulled a chair over to the kitchen cabinet, took out a box of macaroni and cheese and handed it to me. A clear indication that he wants mac and cheese for dinner. Fine, no problem, but "it will take a while to cook," I explained. My eyes searched the cabinet. I grabbed a box of Cheezits, shook them at him and said, "Here. In the meantime, have a few cigarettes to hold you over."

Oh yes. Exemplary Parenting 101. Don't worry...I don't REALLY ply my three-year-old with a regular supply of smokes. It was just something that slipped out. Freudian times ten.

Why? Because even though I quit smoking eleven months ago, I STILL THINK ABOUT THE BUGGERS...all the time.

Even in my sleep. (No, that's not me. She's a lot thinner. Her ass actually fits on the bed. But JUST her ass, it would seem.)

Yes, it's true: not only do I think about cigarettes when I get into the car, when I get out of the car, when I'm riding in the car, when I am waving bye-bye to hubby as he leaves for work, when things are stressful, when things are calm, when things are indefineable as either stressful or calm, or when it's a day that has a "Y" in it...but I have regular dreams about them.

Interestingly, they're usually in connection with my mother, who died nine years ago. She had been a heavy smoker, some two and a half packs of the "longies" a day (100s acceptable, 120s preferable). In these lovely dreams, I am either bumming a cigarette off Mom or am handing one to her. I've even had dreams that I stole packs from her bedroom drawer and accidentally came upon photos and other things that I NEVER wanted to see. (Did someone say "Freud" a while ago there?)

When I first quit smoking, I heard/read that it would take three days for the nicotine to leave my system, an uncertain handful of additional days for the other toxins to make their exit, and three weeks to get over the psychological addiction, because it takes three weeks for a new habit to be formed, according to leading shrinks.

It has been eleven months now.

ELEVEN months.

And still I'm apparently trying to offer them to my clean, precious baby as a snack.

Anyway, if anyone is interested in pursuing this strange phenomenon with me, please feel free. But...while we're chatting, mind if I bum a cig off ya?

1 Comments:

Blogger Weaver said...

Oh.. since I'm only now posting on things from months ago I just recently .. really recently... like 8 friggin minutes ago recently read and posted on your tear jerking (literally) post about Colin and it's just now popped INTO my brain that cigarettes might be just what he needs.... couldn't hurt really.. and if it does... who will he tell?

2:43 AM  

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