Yes, I Drink In Front of My Children, Thank You Very Much

My feelings on this subject are 100% clear and defined: My children are the reason I drink; therefore, I can drink in front of my children. In fact, my box o’ wine may be the reason we’re all still alive today.

I don’t judge people with kids who drink; I judge people with kids who don’t. How do those people survive their children? Do you beat them? Do you pop pills? Do you live with stress, rage and resentment for 20 years that leaves you a hollow shell of your former self? None of these seems like a good option to me, when I can just pour myself a chalice-full of red blend and drown out the sounds of their voices with the sigh of contentment echoing in my head.

It’s like I always tell my kids, “When you start whining, Mommy starts wining.”

Even before they can talk, and therefore whine, the day stretches out so long in front of parents that without the effervescent light at the end of the tunnel, we may not make it through the day. Back when my daughter was a baby, I paid $50 for the cup holder attachment to my overpriced stroller for the specific purpose of carrying mimosas around while I strolled her endlessly through Central Park. I figured it was enough of a shock to my system that I had to give up sleeping in, going out with friends, and having brunch on a Saturday. If I’d taken away my mimosas, I truly might have compromised my organ function.

I am in no way advocating getting truly drunk in front of your little ones — save your spring break behavior for weddings and work trips. Just recently I did a lyrical interpretive dance in a dive bar that ended in a full split on the nasty floor while wearing a sundress. These things happen. My husband was kind enough to video the performance and play it for my mother, who looked at me aghast and said, “but you have children!” And I said, and this is really key, “but they weren’t with me!”

Regardless, you have you a glass of wine any time you want and just know that those of us living in glass bottles can’t feel the stones.

Related post: Why Do Moms Always Talk About Coffee and Wine?