I drink more now that I have small children than I ever have. And I went to college and graduate school.
I would never have drank at home, alone, before I had children.
Now, most evenings about bedtime, I begin to look forward to pouring a cold glass of wine when the fighting, crying, and whining are over.
My husband works late; I write at night; and I like to drink by myself. And I talk about it a lot because I am not ashamed, and I think that I am probably not the only mother of small children that feels this way.
This–like my addiction to coffee, my reliance on girlfriends for support and laughter, the surprising vulnerability I feel with my children–is a truth of my life in the moment.
It is just that.
“Wine improves with age. The older I get, the better I like it.” — Anonymous
Let children wear what they want to wear, and save the battle for something bigger.
Getting dressed in the morning is always drama-packed here. The two girls must see what the other is wearing, fight over tights, insist everything itches, and demand privacy when they put on their socks.
The boy just wants to wear Cars pajamas.
So I have learned it is easier to let my kids put on tu-tus and leg warmers, sundresses in the winter, frog costumes, and bathing caps than to start the day with a fight. And they are more likely to pose for pictures for my blog this way. Win-win.
Downy Wrinkle Releaser has changed my life. I do not know what is in it. And I do not want to know. If you know, don’t tell me. It may be bad for me, bad for the environment; it may support a dictatorship in a small Central American country. But I haven’t ironed in years–there is indeed bliss in that ignorance.
Contributor: Wendy Bradford from Mama One to Three
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