It’s Friday, and the greatest day of all the days, because at the end of it there is hope—hope for enough sunny weather to have maybe a few meltdown-free visits to the park, or an un-whiny trip to Starbucks or the supermarket, and for maybe a wet kiss or two on the neck or the ear from a boy so small he hasn’t learned to purse his lips together yet. As I was sharing my enthusiasm for this day with another mother in the daycare pick-up mob, she sanctimommied my work-week-weary ass.
“Any big plans for the weekend?” She started, innocently enough.
“Nothing major—but I am looking forward to sharing the bathtub with David Sedaris and a little chardonnay this evening,” I replied.
“Oh,” she said, furrowing her brow. “But I thought you’d said you were planning to drink wine last weekend?”
YES. YES I DID. ALL THE WINE (that I could afford, which was two bottles that I had to share with other people).
I have a toddler, you guys. I think it’s pretty awesome that I don’t just lay whisky-drunk and listless on the floor in the fetal position all the time, but you don’t get a badge for that.
I drink a glass of wine with dinner a couple of nights a week because food tastes better with wine, and then I have another glass when it is finally quiet, when I can open a book I don’t have to defend from another person’s saliva. Sometimes I have beer, or two beers, especially when I am watching The Voice because Blake Shelton, my god.
Did you know that responsible mothers drink wine when they are pregnant now, according to a study that was paraphrased and then inaccurately interpreted on the Internet? Yeah. Next week science will be on someone else’s side, so let’s relish in this one for its fleeting moment of legitimacy.
“I don’t even know how you find the time to buy alcohol,” she continued. “I never have the time to go to the liquor store.”
You make the time, lady. You make it. I don’t have the time to go buy a million jugs of milk per week and thirty pounds of bananas that are just going to get mashed into my rug, but I do it. The baby cannot live without these things. You know what I can’t live without? Thirty quiet, winy minutes of no one clambering up my leg or wiping their snotty nose on my arm, whether that’s the kid or Spouse or whoever.
If you are like me and have a habit you sometimes need to justify to nosy passersby, I am here to help. Ignore the haters, swill your drank, and get into some yoga pants for some much needed non-yoga relaxation.
Here are 10 reasons why mama likes a stiff drink every once in awhile (so ease up off her back, won’t you?):
- Work-life balance. Do any of us have it? I don’t think so. I spend my day managing web projects and my mornings, evenings, and weekends managing a toddler who has no pause button and limitless energy, and there are ants on my floor now because he spills his juice EVERYWHERE, and my choice is between a clean apartment and a child who recognizes my face. It’s gross in here. Drink.
- Wine is delicious. Beer too! This stuff is literally the best.
- Guilt. So much of it! You are doing everything wrong all the time no matter what you are doing. You can’t please everyone all the time because you are failing them all, so who cares?! Drink.
- There are as many calories in a glass of wine as there are in a can of pop and pop will rot your teeth and keep you up at night.
- With a cold beer in your hand (and one in the tank)—and The Voice on your PVR—Blake Shelton’s slow drawl is basically all for you. “I want you on mah team! Where have you been all mah life?” He’s talking to YOU.
- A grown-up bath with a book and a glass of wine will blur and/or erase five days’ worth of work stress and the destruction of your home by the three-foot-tall gnome who never eats anything but peanut butter toast yet has the energy to practice pitching with your breakables.
- If you drink all the wine, you won’t be asked to drive to the store to pick up that thing you forgot when you were rushing home to make dinner.
- The Doodlebops. Drink.
- Babysitters. They are hideously, prohibitively expensive. Most of your friends are single and/or don’t have kids so they are off doing fun-related things wearing clothes that didn’t come from Costco, so drink wine and pretend you love all the time you spend at home.
- Other moms. Someone on Facebook posted about how she was sleep-training this week, and these other women—each more batshit than the last—chimed in about how sleep-training is neglect and abuse and Satanism. It got out of hand. But the thing is, those ladies are everywhere, judging your every move. Drink. It will annoy the shit out of them.
So there you go. What are you pouring tonight?