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Some of my friends and other people I admire have waited many years to have children. They plan, save, dream, and possibly even marry first. In my twenties I was a little more "fly by the seat of your pants," as they say. "HEY COOL," was my first thought on seeing the stick turn pink at 21. "She is going to be SO IMPRESSED when I do kegstands." Oh wait, no she won't. She is my child, and I have to teach her to eat carrots and stuff. Crap.
The first thing that went out was smoking. Smoking and I had pretty much broken up by college anyway, when I decided it was too much money and phlegm for too little pay off. Plus I had discovered the joy of jogging and I'm not William Hurt in Body Heat so I knew I couldn't pull both off. (Though I have to say that William Hurt finishing a long run and then immediately lighting up was one of the best scenes in a movie EVER. It caused spontaneous applause and laughter in the cinema class I saw it in.)
My mom was a sneaky stress smoker when I was a kid, and I think she thought she was getting away with it. She would do it in her car, or before I came home from school. She was relieved when I became a full-blown smoker in high school and she could cadge cigarettes off me when she was out. I could not put myself in deep enough denial to think that my kid wouldn't literally sniff me out. She is eight and has known for at least two years exactly which members of our family are sneaky smokers. Plus I had visions in my head of myself at thirteen, surreptitiously fishing Benson & Hedges out of my mom's purse, as my mother had fished Mores out of her mother's purse. Of all the things I teach my kid, I really don't want it to be the lesson imparted by so many of my older relatives. "Smoking is TERRIBLE! Don't do it honey," puff puff.
Another "bad" habit, of course, is caffeine. I put it in quotes because I don't think caffeine is a terrible thing, in spite of the fact that people around me declare it an addiction like it's some kind of slightly shameful secret. Almost everyone I know is trying to "cut down" or quit all together, which of course goes out the window the second they have a late night or there is a special on mochas on the way to work. I fell into this trap at one time as well, laboring under the illusion that I would fart glitter or have magic powers if I could climb out of bed and accomplish over 9000 things before noon on my own steam. Well, F that N, as the kids say. I LIKE coffee and tea; it is delicious.
Right now I draw the line with it in one way, however. I want my children to see it as something to enjoy, that yes, stimulates you during the day. But I would like them to see it as an occasional treat, and not up there with oxygen and sunlight. I think of myself as a young teen plunking down most of my money when HEAVENLY DAY a Gloria Jean's had plopped itself down in the middle of my rural mall. Yes, please, I will spend all my pocket money on a Irish cream-flavored latte. Their decision to spend four bucks on something that will be gone in ten minutes will be part of bigger discussions about goals, short-term pleasure, and the allocation of money.
HOWEVER, as hedonistic and devil-may-care as I am about caffeine, I was starting to feel guilty about my Red Bull habit that I was rocking a year ago.
"I want to try it!" my older kid would nag me.
"Ummm, no."
"Why?"
"It will probably make you sterile," I would reply.
"What does it taste like, though?" she would press.
"Errr...sweet...pee?"
I was drinking lightly-carbonated urine sterility juice at 8 a.m.? Where was the pleasure in that? In this case, talking about one of my habits with my kids helped me kick it and go back to drinking caffeinated beverages I actually enjoy (well, I enjoyed Red Bull in a vaguely masochistic and convenience sort of way, but I
