She’s back! After a month in exile, Fun Mummy is primed to make a much-anticipated return. On Wednesday night I had to survive a work shindig without booze which is always special. For many people, holding a glass of orange juice and lemonade wouldn’t be noteworthy. In my case, reactions were extreme, but unvarying. Mostly along the lines of “What the FUCK are you doing?!, “Don’t be a twat, it’s February in 3 hours”, and, rather bitterly, “You’ve CHANGED”.
Still it is done and now classic Team H family favourite, the Drinking Shop is back on the weekend roster, and all is well with the world.
The Little One has decided to celebrate by getting the shits, but we’ll overlook that.
Runny bottoms aside, Team H is happy this evening. Having abstained on 1st Feb as well, just for added smug value, the weekend is here, and booze is firmly on the menu.
Each year, after committing this act of wanton masochism, I feel I should have some sort of new insight into life at the sober end of the spectrum. I have merely confirmed;
– I bloody love booze.
– I much prefer my children when I have booze.
– My children much prefer me when I have had booze.
Of course, Dry January is as nothing compared to that huge booze-free desert that was being pregnant. There were several occasions during those long months when I truly wasn’t sure that the impending sprog was worth yet another sober evening while my chums glugged contentedly through endless glasses of Sauv Blanc before diving face-first into the port. Given what a scrawny little bugger the Big One was when he was born, I suspect a couple of bottles of a chewy Rioja would have been good for him while still at the foetal stage.
Still, it could have been so much worse. While the NHS only allowed me 1-2 units a week while I was brewing The Boys, at least there were no such limits when they were actually out in the world. Surviving babies and toddlers without wine would have resulted in a close and productive relationship with the nearest adoption agency. Or kennels.
I am grateful to The Mothership for many things (not my shitty knees, mind, she can fuck right off for those) but high on the list was her demonstration of how to hold a hungry baby, a bottle of milk, and a large glass of wine all at once so that both mother and baby could enjoy their beverage of choice. It’s all in the wrist.
To anyone else who has survived Dry January with kids – well bloody done! To those of you who never stopped – budge up at the bar, we’re back!!
Cheers, team!
Sons Over the Yardarm 