CRISIS AVERTED!!! I found the email I sent to myself!! I deleted by accident! You can thank me later for finding this ode to the (slurred) English language.
Let’s get one thing straight. I love wine. I like having a glass with dinner. I like enjoying over gossip with girlfriends. However, to remember the wine I enjoyed drinking, that is a different story. I wish my little mind would remember more than just, You know the one with the pretty label. It makes it really hard shopping for wines I like at the store when I don’t remember the kind and forget about the label. All I know is my color. I love some rose in the summertime. Before I got pregnant and we lived in a different neighborhood, the wine store was conveniently located on my way home from the subway. Convenient for them because they made more money and convenient for me because … Well it was on the way home so they got my money. I would come home on Fridays and as anyone is want to do I would stop in and get myself a bottle of the Red stuff. I’m not sure what kind but the price definitely influence my purchasing habits: less than $10 was ideal. Without a lot of research and before my obsession with he blogs, let’s just admit that I drank a lot of random shitty wine. My dads best friend who has spent most of my adult life trying to teach me about wines would be outraged. But he and I have gotten over it.
Then I had the most “amazing” surprise of getting
knocked up pregnant. I took the pregnancy test over a glass of wine and while enjoying my last cigarette. The pregnancy was unplanned and I had already been drinking and smoking for four weeks. If the damage was done one last of each could hardly effect things even more, so don’t judge.
So my last wine was drunk and I was on the wagon. Then 9 months later the joy is in our lives. But I can’t drink yet because every good time has consequences, and the consequences are magnified ten fold when the said joy gets up at 5 am. So my wagon days extend to 12 months, 14 months, a year and a half and I find myself not being able to hold my wine. My long days of friday nights with a bottle of wine are long LONG gone. The sad reality became that a glass of wine would cross my vision and I was tipsy. And the oddest turn of events, is that now I prefer white to red whine. Go Figure!
Fast forward a few years and I have slowly been building up my tolerance. Over the last 6 months I have been able to drink two glasses in an evening without someone having to carry me home. And on Friday night I had three glasses without even being tipsy. Maybe I should start building up tolerance according to O’s birthday. This year she’s turning three so I should be able to drink three glasses comfortably in one sitting without slurring my words. Which means in 15 years I will be up to 18 glasses or three bottles, no problem. You might consider that a drinking problem but I consider that conquering my Child’s years.
Cheers! To next year’s 4 glasses of wine! (gulp, gulp)
You might be shocked to hear, I had to re-write certain parts of the post because the sentences made absolutely no sense. I could blame the iPhone and their counterintuitive auto-correct, or I can be honest with myself and realize that I was a bit tipsy and my thoughts didn’t translate as well when trying to write them down. Cheers!