You’re Only An Alcoholic If You Go To Meetings, Right?

Work is the curse of the drinking classes. ~ Oscar Wilde

Today is Day 12 of my 12 Day Work Week.

Husband is in the Reserves. Every month, he has one weekend of drill. Last weekend was it for this month.

What this means is that I did not have a weekend, and that therefore I have been home, alone, with my child every day for the past twelve days.

Flashback to a meme that was hot about two months ago, but is now, like, SOOOO two months ago.

Now is when your perceptions come into play.

If you are a person who does not have kids, and who goes to a job every day, you may be thinking: “What do you have to complain about? You just stay home all day. You blog and watch soap operas, right? And bake and stuff. Whatever.”

If you are a person who does have kids, and who goes to a job every day, you’re likely thinking: “God, what a whiner. She gets to spend all day every day with her baby and doesn’t have to juggle work pressures and day care and pumping breast milk. She has it easy, and should be more grateful.”

If you are a fellow stay-at-home-mom, you might be thinking: “Jesus, you poor thing. No weekend? Your partner in parenting only home when Baby is asleep? Do you need some help?”

These discrepancies arise from the fact that moms who are home alone with their offspring every day know just how much we need our weekends. See, every day, all day, we are the first and only line of defense against all the whining, all the feeding, all the poo, all the EVERYTHING that is involved in raising a child. It can be pretty intense, especially when you haven’t slept to your own schedule in months and are NEVER permitted to eat anything in peace.

I’d like to show you just how intense this can get, and in order to do so, I’m going to give you a little picture of my caffeine and alcohol* consumption over the course of my 12 Day Work Week.

First Monday: 1 Cup Coffee. 1 Can Coke.

First Tuesday: Same.

First Wednesday: Same. Plus one beer.

First Thursday: Things are starting to get to me a bit. 1 Cup Coffee. 2 Cans Coke. 1 Beer.

First Friday: I’m fraying. 2 Cups Coffee. 1 Can Coke. 2 Beers.

Normally, this is the point where I have a day off, when my husband is home to change diapers and give Baby his breakfast, and I am allowed to sleep in a couple of extra hours. I’m also able to pass off little Fussy McWhineypants when he’s being irritating, and I can read a book. Or play a computer game. Or go out without a child in tow. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS.

However, this being the 12 Day Work Week, I do not have a day off.

Saturday: The fraying continues, but I work valiantly to hold it all together. 2 Cups Coffee. 2 Cans Coke. OH MY GOD WE ARE OUT OF BEER I’M HAVING A MELTDOWN AND WE’RE OUT OF BEER. 2 Shots of Becherovka.

Sunday: Things are getting really rough. 2 Cups Coffee. 1 Can Coke. 2 Beers.

Second Monday: This is meltdown central. There is no end in sight. 3 Cups Coffee. 2 Beers. 1 Crying Jag. 1 Shot of Becherovka.

When the going gets tough, the tough get hammered on Czech Sunshine**.

Second Tuesday: I rally a bit. I’ve survived this before, and I will again. 2 Cups Coffee. 1 Beer.

Second Wednesday: I’m flying on autopilot. This is not my best time for parenting, but Baby doesn’t die, so things must be okay. 2 Cups Coffee. 1 Coke. 1 Beer.

Second Thursday: The countdown has begun. 2 Cups Coffee. 2 Cokes. No beer, because my intestines are hating me for what I’ve been doing to them.

Second Friday: Time stretches out so that five minutes feel like fifty. The weekend is so close that I can almost taste it, and it tastes like 3 Cups Coffee. 1 Coke. 2 Glasses Wine.


* Alcohol is only consumed after Husband has come home for the night. The fact that I don’t drink alone means that I don’t have a problem … right?

** I just made up the nickname “Czech Sunshine” for Becherovka. I would really like it to become a thing. Please start referring to it as such, and act as though everyone around you is oh-so-provincial for not knowing what you’re talking about. (Warning: This might make you a hipster.)

8 responses to “You’re Only An Alcoholic If You Go To Meetings, Right?

  1. I’ve so been there. I find that a beer will talk me off the ledge in a way that chocolate never could, maybe because I can have beer but my children can’t, which makes it special and a little elitist.

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