Let’s be honest: the stereotype of moms joking about their need for wine is as familiar as yoga pants and minivans. However, for me, wine is not just a punchline; it’s a necessity for surviving motherhood. I could probably live without those stretchy fabrics and even coffee (the horror!), but life without wine? No way.
I’ve tried to navigate this chaotic journey sober, and let me tell you, it was a disaster.
Just picture this: my toddler, in a shopping cart, zipping across the grocery store parking lot while I’m preoccupied with loading the baby into the van. Strangers were diving out of their cars to catch him as he sped toward a busy road. We managed to grab him just in time, but before I could even catch my breath, the baby decided to have a monumental blowout—in his car seat, no less. That’s motherhood for you, and it can be relentless.
I drink because my mother is battling cancer and often lacks the energy to be heard over my kids—who, despite their small numbers, are incredibly loud. I once stepped into another room for a quiet conversation with her, only to discover my youngest had wandered outside, leaving the back door wide open. After a frantic search, I found her on the next street, barefoot and clad only in a diaper. Once the kids were tucked into bed that night, I sank into a hot bath, clutching my glass of wine as if it were my last lifeline.
My husband glanced at me and cautiously asked, “Would you like a refill?” Yes, please!
I drink because boys can be destructive, wielding shovels to beat on the outdoor water spigot to see what happens. When the spigot broke, I had to call my husband at work for help. That’s the kind of call that makes a mom feel like she’s losing her grip on reality.
I drink because when my oldest gets into mischief, he expresses his love for me by spray-painting “I LOVE YOU” on the driveway. Sweet, but that’s not coming off anytime soon.
I drink because my kids have a knack for experimenting with dangerous objects—like swallowing batteries or sticking things in electrical sockets. And yes, we made the questionable decision to buy a trampoline last year. What were we thinking?
One of my kids got so backed up despite my close monitoring of their fiber intake that we ended up in the emergency room. Let’s just say, it was an experience neither of us will forget. I can only imagine the nurse needed a drink after that ordeal too.
Recently, I cleaned out our van and found bubblegum stuffed in the headrest’s hole and smeared all over the seats. Sandwich crusts were petrifying between the car seats, and peanut butter-covered Barbie dolls were buried under a mountain of papers. Just glancing at my van makes me want to pour myself a drink. It’s so filthy that I’m too embarrassed to take it for a detailing, so I just keep driving it. After all, I’m a mom. Crushed goldfish crumbs won’t stop me.
Today, I went grocery shopping with my relatively well-behaved kids. As I attempted to follow my list, my toddler kept grabbing it, while my middle child meowed like a cat, and my eldest bombarded me with questions. I needed to think! I hurriedly filled my cart with essentials like Cheerios and fish sticks, grabbing a box of wine as I approached the register.
When the cashier scanned my purchase, she gave me a knowing look—a fellow mom recognizing my need for this box of wine. My children were belting out lyrics to “Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae),” and I was just trying to find my wallet. She placed the wine in my hands and said, “Girl…you need this.” And I absolutely do.
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In summary, motherhood is a rollercoaster ride filled with chaos, laughter, and the occasional need for a good drink. Wine may not solve all the problems, but it definitely helps me navigate this wild journey.