You Whine, I Wine

I blame pregnancy for my fondness for wine when my son whines.

People may tell you that when you're pregnant you will stop craving some of the things you're not allowed to consume thereby making it easier to give up those things.

LIE.

For anyone who enjoys a glass of wine at the end of the day (or at lunch. I don't judge), you will still want that wine. You just concede that you can't have it.

Consider, you have that moment when you find out you're pregnant and in a bittersweet gesture you move the wine glass to the back of the cabinet. You say farewell to boozy brunches with bottomless mimosas and Bloody Marys and you begin a 40 week journey that includes some of the greatest physical discomfort you've ever known. Sleepless nights that prepare you for even less sleep once your baby arrives. You manage the stress of preparing your home, lining of childcare, possibly leaving your job. And you do this without the crutch and escape of a glass of wine at the end of each of your challenging days.

Then it happens. Baby arrives. Guess what? Mommy's got some time to make up for. Bring on the wine.

Now, I don't want to paint the picture that I have a drinking problem. That's not it. I just have a problem with not drinking.

Because of the 40 weeks spent not drinking, I think I now appreciate more than ever the ability to pour a glass of wine in the evenings and sip my way into a peaceful escape from the daily chaos of life. Somehow with wine in hand, the five o’clock meltdown doesn’t seem so unbearable. So when Reece whines, I now wine. I figure after 40-weeks of not being allowed to go near the stuff, it’s the right thing to do these days.  

For those who are parents, you know that moment when you watch your toddler behave in the most irrational way. Throwing limbs around as if in an attempt to sever them from his body; the legs kicking and arms swinging as if he is trying to defend himself from a monster and not just avoid a bath. Oh, and that bath by the way is full of bubbles, toys and fizzing color tablets. So really not that awful.  And yet, there you find yourself. A spectator of this display of this nuclear  meltdown. But, with a glass of wine in hand, it somehow turns the scene into entertaining and not so frustrating to you. So go ahead, little two foot tall monster bring it. Just don't do it on a day when we're out of wine.