The Best Reason to Never Drink Again (And 10 Reasons Why I Probably Will)

I’ve decided to let you in on an embarrassing little secret.  Basically, I’m sacrificing my dignity for the sake of a good blog.  I really hope you appreciate it.

One night, about six weeks ago, I tripped and landed directly on my face.  This unfortunate occurrence resulted in three broken teeth, six stitches in my lip, bruises all over my face, several thousand dollars worth of dental work, a very long night in the ER, and a partridge in a pear tree.

To say it sucked would be the understatement of the century.

I’d love to tell you that this little stumble, or “The Face Plant”, as I now lovingly refer to it, was the cause of mere klutziness, or a randomly placed Barbie doll, or maybe a little poor coordination.  But the fact is, a sober person just doesn’t plant their face in ceramic tile for no good reason.

You guessed it.  Alcohol.

(Wow.  I really have no shame.  I SWORE I wouldn’t blog about this after it happened.  I mean, does it even get more embarrassing???  I need to have a little talk with myself about personal discretion.)

Of all the insanely drunken nights I’ve spent in my life, THIS is the one that finally landed me in the ER?? Of all the vodkabeerwinetequilawhiskey-fueled nights that occupied my early twenties, when I would often drink with reckless abandon, like an alcoholic on Saint Patrick’s Day at a bar where all the drinks are free…..  Back then, I would always escape my drunken escapades relatively unscathed, with nothing more than a half-day’s worth of a hangover and the nagging feeling that I might have made a jackass of myself the night before.

But nope.  THIS particular night had to be the one that ended in total disaster.  This relatively uneventful date night between the hubster and me, wherein I innocently mixed liquors and forgot that a little thing called “alcohol tolerance” no longer exists in my world.

Understandably, after that unpleasant experience, I decided that I should never drink again.

“I’m never drinking again.” It’s a decision we’ve all made at one time or other.  Typically, it’s made in between dry heaves while at the mercy of a toilet bowl, and not on a hospital gurney while being wheeled in for a CT scan, but either way.  We’ve all sworn off booze at least once in our lives.

But this time, I meant it.  I mean, I really freaking meant it.  Who in their right mind would ever take so much as a SIP of alcohol after something like that??

**Points two thumbs at chest**

This girl.

I’m really an idiot.

I will never MIX alcohol again. That much is certain.  And no more than two, maybe three drinks, tops.  Not a drop more.  Sorry, friends who like to drink with me.  I’ve learned my lesson.  Well, I’m pretty sure I’ve learned my lesson.

Now, despite how terrible this whole ordeal would appear to any normal human being (and the fact that I’ve written a blog about it surely doesn’t help), I hope you realize that I don’t actually drink that much.  The fact that I can no longer guzzle booze like a college kid on the last day of finals is the very reason that I couldn’t handle the vodka/Sambuca/wine combo that caused The Face Plant in the first place.  If you search my liquor stash at home you’ll find nothing more than a dusty bottle of Jameson and some stale red wine. Seriously.

That being said, like most normal folks, I do enjoy wine at least once in a while. It’s pretty crazy how hard it is to stay away from it altogether.  I mean, it was barely a month after I practically broke my face on a floor that I found myself out to dinner with friends and unwilling to turn down some Pinot Grigio.  Hell, even during pregnancy I had a little glass of wine once every once in a while (oh shut up, you did it too).

So why is it so hard to refrain? Well, for me, the answer is simple.  I can’t speak for everyone, but I can speak for my fellow mamas and papas.  CHILDREN.

Love ‘em to pieces, but they sure do drive us to drink.

So without further ado, (yup, it’s a list—sorry but the new job means no time for any deep blog revelations in the form of lengthy, meaningful prose) here are my top ten reasons that parents drink, inspired by the night I drank so much that my teeth fell out.

  1. Because all the coffee in the world won’t dull the sound of Max and Ruby, Ruby and Max, Max and Ruby, Ruby and Max playing on a loop inside your head.
  2. Because it’s always 5pm somewhere, but it’s 11p.m. right now– and your kid? Just went to bed.
  3. Because there was only one pink line on that pregnancy test you didn’t tell anyone you were taking (phew).
  4. Because in-laws.
  5. Because you recently heard a story on the news about a three-year-old girl whose IQ rivals that of Albert Einstein, and two minutes later you had to pry dog food out of your own three-year-old daughter’s mouth.
  6. Because holidays without alcohol are like childbirth without painkillers.  Sure, some people try to do it, but no one really knows why.
  7. Because you heard that red wine has antioxidents and stuff.  So it’s all like healthy.  Yep, THAT’s why you drink it.
  8. Because no one ever told you that “potty training” is really just a cutesy name for scrubbing piss off of every surface in your home for two months.
  9. Because uttering the words “I’ll just have water” on your semi-annual date night with your spouse should be illegal.
  10. Because….   34-wine-is-win-with-an-eWell, except for when you plant your face in a floor.

Doin’ My Working Mom Thang

If you’ve stopped by my blog in the past few weeks, you might have heard crickets chirping in place of the usual 1500+ words on what’s been pissing me off lately.  I promise I haven’t decided to call it a day on my little writing adventure.  Nor have I been vacationing in the Caribbean, in case you were wondering (and also don’t know me at all).

The truth is that I’ve crossed over to the other side, folks.  I’m going back to work.

As much fun as being a stay-at-home-mom has been (at times), I think it’s time for a change.  Those of you familiar with the six things I’m too broke to do will understand that I’ve simply come to a point where I’ve seen one Magic Kingdom picture too many.

So I’ve accepted a position at a wonderful company that allows its employees to maintain a flexible schedule in order to more easily balance time between work and family.  I feel extremely blessed to have stumbled upon such an amazing opportunity.  To my new boss, if you’re reading this:  you’re seriously awesome.  I really appreciate you giving this mama a chance.  And I swear I’m not just saying that because, well, you’re my boss and stuff.

Now that I’m doing my working mom thing (which I still kind of can’t even believe), I’ve been understandably distracted.  I started work about a week ago and my mind has been going a mile a minute ever since.  So, being the open book I am, I figured I’d share some of my (in the moment) first-week thoughts with you, in case you’re wondering how the transition is going.

  • Holy crap, I’m in an office.  There are only adults present.  And people are doing work—quietly. There are permanent markers and breakable picture frames very visibly displayed on desks barely two feet off the floor.   Nobody is crying, or whining, or asking for orange juice, or biting anyone.  I thought places like this only existed on TV.
  • Not only did I shower and do my hair this morning, but I also put on MAKEUP.  And then?  I put on pants.  No, not SWEATpants.  Real pants.  Pants!
  • I wonder what Big M is doing with Little D right now.  I hope they’re playing together.  No, wait.  I kind of hope she’s driving him crazy.   What do you do all day, my ass.
  • This is a lot different than my first day at my last big new job.  Last time, I went out afterward to celebrate with friends and drinks at the bar.  This time, I went food shopping afterward, then celebrated with an early bedtime and some herbal tea.  I’m a real wild woman in my 30’s.
  • What happens if my son’s school calls my phone and I don’t hear it?  Last time they called, it was to tell me that someone had hurled on him (yes, that happened).  Will he have to sit in a pool of some other kid’s upchuck until I finally look at my phone next time?  I better take it off of vibrate.  Not that people are vomiting on him left and right, but just in case…
  • How is it possible to miss my kids so much all day long, and then come home and still find myself anxiously awaiting their bedtime?  What kind of crap is that? Go away, mom guilt!
  • Pretty soon I’ll be less broke than I am now.  Woohoo!  I’m going to Disney World!  Which we’ve already established.  So…
  • I really need to update my blog.  My thousands of adoring readers must be wondering where I’ve been.  Ha!  Couldn’t even type that with a straight face.
  • This doesn’t actually feel real yet. I feel like I should be home right now, knee deep in dirty diapers and Doc McStuffins.
  •  I’m just gonna go ahead and say it.  I’m proud of myself.  It’s been tough saying goodbye to my babies every day, but I need to do this for me and for them too.  It would be great if I could just stay home with them, but this scraping-by thing is kinda bullshit.  So yea, I’m about to grab this working mom thing by the short-and-curlies and rock it out.  Go me.  Insert happy face here.