If someone had told me six months ago that I’d swear off all alcohol and embark on a sober summer, I would have thought they were nuts.
The truth is, I adore my wine, aka. ‘mommy juice’ — perhaps a little more than I should.
I would gladly drink it from a box; I enjoyed it while wearing striped socks.
Pinot, chard or merlot, it can be hard to always say no.
A glass of white pairs well with cheese, especially cheesy ‘reality’ shows like the Real Housewives of Orange County, but also goes hand-in-hand with baby showers, girls’ nights’ in (or out), date nights, camping, baseball games, hockey games, picnics, lunch dates, play dates and Netflix. Catch my drift?
It was shortly after I stopped nursing my youngest, Zoe, that wine went from a recreational activity to an alarming nightly habit.
My husband, Jason, was working a string of late shifts and we were renting the top floor of a house out in Brookswood.
Back then, it seemed like I was the only young mom on the whole block. Come to think of it, I probably was. Most of the residents worked early shifts and disappeared during the day.
While we weren’t living out in the boonies, it felt like I was stranded on a deserted island with a baby and a toddler.
I’d finally get my girls to sleep around 7 p.m. and watch as all the lights on our street went out shortly after like clockwork. By 8 p.m., our house was enveloped in darkness.
I felt so alone, so stuck and so bored out of my mind.
Wine offered a cheap, tasty and convenient solution to my little domestic dilemma.
Once my baby finished her bottle and was sound asleep in a milk coma, out came mommy’s soothing bottle.
All of my worries and stress from the day — toddler meltdowns, a teething baby and mounding debt — all seemed to dissipate with every delicious sip.
Rinse and repeat.
Four years later and 10 lbs heavier, this occasional party for one began to blend into my own bedtime routine.
It is rare I have more than four drinks on a weeknight (which to be honest, is still kind of a lot).
Typically, the hubs and I would just share a bottle of wine. Even so, drinking was beginning to cause a dark cloud to hang overhead.
I was unproductive, rapidly gaining weight and feeling down.
And let’s be real, wine glasses are a lot bigger than they used to be. Who actually measures their pour unless they are on Weight Watchers? FYI, it’s four points per glass.
The only relief came from another glass at 5 p.m., sharp, while cooking dinner to make that ‘witching hour’ more bearable.
I couldn’t wait to get my girls to bed so that I could plop myself on the couch with a bag of salt & vinegar chips, raid their stale Halloween candy and pour myself second big fat cold glass of chardonnay.
In my eyes, it was my well-deserved ‘me-time.’
What I didn’t realize was what a disservice I was doing my own body, mind and soul.
Eventually, I began to panic and question my nighttime routine.
Why was I continuing to do it when it was making me feel like garbage? Why won’t I stop? What happens if I can’t?
There’s recreational drinking and then there’s alcoholism - Like many of my fellow parents out there, I felt trapped somewhere in the grey area.
But with alcoholism in my family tree, I can’t pretend that the grey area could get smaller in time if I’m not careful.
Nobody really talks about it, but I know I can’t be the only one out there with this love-hate relationship with this mommy and whine-wine culture.
June 1st marked my six-month sober anniversary, which I’ve decided to extend throughout the summer.
Aside from my two pregnancies, I haven’t gone that long without drinking, even occasionally, since the age of 19. I feel like a whole new woman.
I’ve taken up meditation, yoga, drink water like a camel AND find there’s more time in the day now to be productive. Who would have thought?
‘Me time’ is now a hot bubble bath, a new book, and trip to the gym or pedicure.
With all that money we’re saving on wine, I don’t feel so guilty about the occasional splurge.
It also helps to focus on what I’ve gained, instead of what I’m giving up.
So, for the big question: Will I go back to wine after the sun sets on my summer challenge?
Let’s just say I’ve put a cork in my habit for now and am taking this sobriety thing one day, one season, at a time…
Kristyl Clark is a work-at-home-mom and founder of the family blogazine, ValleyMom.ca. Follow her on Twitter @shesavalleymom.