Sobriety- Thursday March 22nd

I’m a Hazelholic.  I’m completely and utterly addicted to Hazel and 90% of my mental and physical energy is completely devoted to getting my next dose.  I even wake up in the middle of the night jonsing for a fix.  Hazel addiction has a few side affects: sleeplessness, disinterest in socializing with peers, difficultly concentrating on non-Hazel topics, as well as a loss of interest in personal care and chore-doing.  But one look at a baby toe, one glance at the funny cowlick in the front of her hair, a coo, a kick of her feet and I’m ready to forgo sleep and socializing for the rest of my life for another hour of Hazel.

When I’m away from Hazel, I challenge myself not to think about her constantly.  I try not to look at the 1,236 photos of her on my phone. I use thinking of her to motivate myself to get things done.  ”I’ll make ten calls then wonder what she’s doing right now.”  ”I’ll answer all these emails then imagine how fun it’ll be to take her to the park this summer”.

Like a true junkie, all I really want to talk about is Hazel.  On the few occasions that Tom and I have been out alone, I try not to talk about her.  We’ll talk about politics or our family or our jobs but after five or six minutes I have to ask: “What do you think Hazel is doing right now?”  Tom is always eager to indulge my addiction.  My Hazel tolerance is so high it would be impossible for me to overdose.  And the more I get of her, the more right I feel in the world.

I have to take my Hazelholism one day at a time.  I can’t let myself be overwhelmed at the thought of us spending so much time apart.  I try not to scowl at the stay-at-home mom’s I see when I’m on my lunch break (deep down inside I know that’s not all it’s cracked up to be).  And I certainly don’t let myself think about how I’m missing all of her milestones.  Instead I try and focus on how I’m her mother, and how this is the thing that I’m the very best at.