I often find that something that seemed absolutely impossible suddenly becomes doable when I am presented with enough motivation…the right kind of motivation.

I knew smoking was bad for me, but that was a risk I was willing to take for much of my life. After all, it was just me. After I got married and had children, I started giving some serious thought to the effects of secondhand smoke and children.

I knew that smoking causes lung cancer and breathing problems. Then I learned that my children’s developing bodies were even more susceptible to these problems than I was, even though I was the one doing the smoking.  Over 90% of the smoke children are exposed to is in their own homes, a place that is supposed to be safe.  It was bad enough that I had smoked around my wife when she was pregnant.  I wasn’t going to pollute my children’s safe place.

I found out that smoking around my children could cause painful ear infections, RSV and other serious respiratory infections, and asthma.  Otherwise healthy children develop severe asthma from secondhand smoke.  I had dreamed for years of having a little boy that I could play baseball with.  I wasn’t going to be the reason he had to sit on the sidelines.

I also learned about the increased risk of SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome) in babies of smokers.  I did not want the death or disease of my own children on my hands.  There was no way I wanted to expose my loved ones, especially my babies to the harmful effects of smoking.

So I took it outside. I never smoked around my children. Nobody else was allowed to smoke near my kids either, especially not the babies.

It turns out that wasn’t good enough.

I recently learned about thirdhand smoke.  Thirdhand smoke is the residue left on hair, clothing, carpets, walls, and anything else that comes in contact with secondhand smoke.  Thirdhand smoke has been found to be highly toxic and dangerous, just like secondhand smoke.

That means that every time I would hold my baby boy, I was putting dangerous toxins on his skin.  Every time I hug my little girl, the smoke residue in my clothes and hair would be stirred up. Guess where that smoke residue goes. That’s right! My baby breathes it in. My little girl breathes it in.

It’s like sticking a cigarette in my little girl’s mouth.

My parents smoke. At their house, whether my kids are sitting on the couch, covering up with a blanket, hugging Nana and Grampa, crawling on the floor, or sleeping in the guest bed, they are stirring up smoke and inhaling residue as thirdhand smoke. So every time we visit my folks, the kids are essentially spending the weekend smoking.

Putting my baby in that situation is like telling him that a stick of nicotine is more important than his life.  Smoking is not worth that.

If the dangerous combination of secondhand smoke and children is not motivation to quit, I don’t know what is!