Tonight is my first night without Captain Chaos. If I went to sleep right now, I might actually get eight or more hours of sleep in a row. That hasn't happened since he was born. That's right, in the past ten months, I have not gotten more than five hours of sleep at any one given time. I can hear all you moms out there going "so?" but I'm pretty sure that the research I've read on sleep deprivation mentions going fucking crazy after a certain amount of time...
So, you ask, why the hell aren't you sleeping, princess?
I am not sleeping because I am blogging. I am blogging because I want a fucking beer. And a smoke. And a cigarette.
And none of those things are going to happen because A. I'm pregnant and B. I made a commitment to myself and to Captain Chaos that those things would not interfere with us. (At least, not till he's fifteen or so. I'm not a total idiot.) Anyway, under no circumstances will he be raised the way I was, and that's that.
Where I come from, there is a vein of addiction that runs deep and wide, and everyone I know has been affected by it in one way or another. I want to veer as far away from that vein as possible so that, hopefully, my kids have a fighting chance at a somewhat normal life.
The thing that I wasn't prepared for is how hard it is to do that. I mean, I'm no saint. I haven't got a lot of practice at this whole abstinence thing yet. Captain Chaos himself was concieved in a haze of beery, shot laden, cigarette smokin party-ness. It was only after I found out that he was coming into the picture that I toned it down. He's not showing any signs of FAS yet...(fingers crossed..)
Since then, it's been a pretty easy ride. I mean, I was pregnant for the first time and obessessed with doing it right ( and by right I mean perfectly, because that's who I am). Then bam! I was a mom and god knows I haven't had much of a chance to think about tying one on, what with most of my time being taken with trying to keep Cap'n Chaos alive and the house from burning to the ground....
But tonight was different. As soon as I dropped him off with Baby Daddy, I could tell I was going to have trouble. I was already talking myself out of a beer two blocks from BD's house.
It didn't help that I dropped a couple of friends off at an outdoor concert after that. Man it took me back. Dressed up on a Friday night, a case of beer and a pack of smokes in the purse, going to see some live music. That's pretty much how I grew up. Shit, when I heard those bottles clink together, I thought I was going to die of thirst.
Someday I will be able to drop my kid off for the night without obessing over this shit.
Someday I will be able to go see a band again without wanting a beer and a smoke, but until then, I guess I'll just sit right here, writing it all down until I'm tired enough to just sleep.