I Think I Can. I Think I Can.

So I'm 72 hours without nicotine. I'm trying to deal with this 35 year addiction from a psychological approach. So far, so good.

The city girl daughter is cheering me on. She says she wants me to figure it all out so I can tell her how to do it. Isn't that typical of our children??

After making fun of my choice of footwear for some time, she has finally succumbed. She (at least) realized the importance of comfort while she is working.

Hint: Hers are the black... mine are the brown.

Face it, kids are always looking to their parents for direction and / or guidance.

I remember when she confronted me with her first dose of life's disappointments. She was so angry I hadn't warned her. I was blatantly honest when I explained that, had I been privy to a roadmap to life, I would have used it myself.

I remind her (and the youngest daughter) that we need to be ever mindful of the curveballs of life. These are the very ones that have a tendency to hit us square on--in the pit of the stomach, when we least suspect it-- and take the very wind out of our sails.


Doesn't mean we can't recover. Just means we have to be on our toes, so we're better equipped to bounce back, after the inital jolt (or shock).


I'm a firm believer in the fact that we all are limited only by our own thoughts. If you think you can do it, then you can do it. You know, the power of positive thinking and all that stuff.


So I'm hanging in there. Haven't missed a cigarette yet. And I'm hoping for the best.

So, won't you cheer me on?