Sleepy Saturday

I had to work last night and again tonight, which means this day is pretty much screwed. At least, that's the shitty excuse I am using right now. Instead of going to the gym, I lazed about in bed all day. But I am not going to make it a habit, I won't let it get me down, and, if Travis was home right now and I had someone to watch my boys, I would be at the gym right now. As it is, I need to shower and get ready for work.

But, I thought I would drop in with a quick update. Diet is going good. I am still keeping in or around 1200 calories a day and definitely no more than 1600. The no smoking thing sucks ass. The thing is, I like to smoke. I like the feeling of inhaling the delicious menthol tang and exhaling the smooth minty flavor. I like the calming feelings after I have a cig, and I like hanging out in the garage, by myself, with a book, smoking.

But, I know it's not healthy. I know all the risks and dangers. I have two small boys who mean the world to me and I know I am their world. The thought of them suffering because of my selfishness is devastating. The idea of leaving my kids in this world without me literally makes my heart race and my breaths come too fast. Who would stick up for them? Who would open their big ass mouth and take on the world for them if even the SLIGHTEST offense is made towards them? Who would snuggle under a heavy blankie for a morning to watch a movie? Who would remember to tell them they are beautiful and perfect and smart and wonderful every. single. day. ?

Yes, yes, I know they have a daddy. And he's an awesome daddy, too. But he's the one they go to for rough housing and putting cool toys together and playing video games and taking them out to fun boy places like the arcade and the race track. He ruffles their hair and calls them dorks, in that affectionate, dad kind of way, and tells him he loves them when he tucks them in at night with a smooch on the forehead and a quick "to the moon and back" before the light gets turned off. But, he's a dad. He gets frustrated easily. He doesn't have a lot of patience. My boys need patience. They need mommy here to tell daddy to go take a chill pill and let the boys be little, because it only happens once and it will be over all too soon.

And so, I quit smoking. And I have been E-V-I-L. I feel evil. I crave a cigarette like nothing else. On my way home from work this morning, I almost stopped at the gas station. For, like the billionth time this week. But, I stuck to my guns. I can do this. I will do this. I have to do this.

Supposedly, I am over the "craving" hump. The thing is, I have quit smoking before. Each time I got pregnant, I quit smoking. I never got over that "craving" hump. I wonder if I ever will?