As the clock strikes three, marking the end of another long day filled with parenting duties and endless chores, I feel the familiar tug. The sun begins to dip, casting a warm glow through my kitchen window, and I find myself restless.
“Not yet,” I remind myself. “It’s too early.”
I distract myself with the usual tasks of a stay-at-home parent, the ones I’ve done countless times before, as I battle the urge. The clock ticks away, each second dragging me closer to the time I consider acceptable. Meanwhile, the kids swarm around, eager to know what’s for dinner, while the TV buzzes with the day’s news. My kitchen is a chaotic blend of backpacks, discarded homework, and the makings of a family meal.
Laundry lies unfolded yet again, a reminder of the balancing act between freelancing and being the primary caregiver. I empty the dishwasher for the second time today, gazing out of the window as I feel submerged in a tide of messes I can’t seem to conquer. My life has become a whirlwind of responsibilities, and I find myself exhausted from trying to be everything for everyone in my home.
I am weary.
Motherhood is challenging.
A glass of wine makes it a little easier.
The wine bottle waits patiently on my counter, a comforting presence. Half-full from last night’s indulgence, it beckons me closer. I reach for the wine glass, the anticipation of that sweet taste already dancing on my palate.
As I pour, the sounds of chaos fade slightly, and I focus on the rich liquid swirling into my glass, filling it as if it’s replenishing my very soul. Bringing it to my lips, I take a long, satisfying sip, feeling my shoulders relax. Happy hour has commenced.
This ritual has become a daily occurrence. While I joke with friends about needing a bottle of wine after a hectic day, a flicker of concern occasionally crosses my mind. I wonder if I’m normal. As I sip wine at social gatherings, I can’t help but question if others are feeling the same way. Do they worry about their drinking habits?
As a nurse, I’ve seen the consequences of alcohol misuse. I know the signs, having cared for those struggling with addiction. I remember the slurring of a drunken uncle at a wedding or the friend who always seems to be tipsy at neighborhood gatherings. I’ve held the hands of patients whose bodies bore the marks of a failing liver, their families mourning what could have been done differently.
But I’m not like that. I enjoy the finer wines. I drink from crystal glasses, like a sophisticated adult. Yet, I find myself reaching for a glass more often than not, sometimes indulging in more than just one. I sip to ease social anxiety, celebrate Friday evenings with my husband, or simply unwind on a Tuesday.
My kids have caught glimpses of me inebriated, and the shame weighs on me the next day as I nurse a hangover. I explain to them that adults make mistakes, that Mommy had too much to drink, and promise it won’t happen again. As I sip seltzer, hoping to avoid any regrets, I tell myself I’ll stick to my daily glass of wine because motherhood is tough and a little wine helps.
I chat with friends about their drinking habits, seeking reassurance that I’m not alone. We share laughs about the stresses of motherhood, lamenting the lack of time to unwind. We toast with our rosé, convinced that we are just moms enjoying a drink.
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Summary:
This piece reflects the struggles of modern motherhood and the comfort that a daily glass of wine can bring. It explores the delicate balance between enjoying a drink and the potential concerns surrounding alcohol consumption. The author candidly shares personal experiences, emphasizing the challenges of parenting while seeking connection with other mothers who might feel the same.