Why Mama’s Drinking Wine

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When mama loses it, everyone suffers. This is why God invented wine. A cool, crisp glass of sauvignon blanc prevents a myriad of mama meltdowns in my house. Kids doing something dangerous? Grab a glass. Siblings physically assaulting one another? Tip the bottle. Someone’s melting down? Sip that sauvy b and pretend it’s not your problem.
Mama Tries Blog is beginning a new series called: Why Mama’s Drinking Wine, which will capture all of those parenting moments you dreamed of when you were checking your basal temperature and tracking your ovulation all those years ago – like your kids sketching a poorly executed illustration on the dining room wall or sobbing because you gave them the granola bar they asked for. Instead of melting down along with my children, I’ll be pouring myself a glass and taking a selfie to capture the moment. I hope you will too.  

WMDW: The Straws That Broke Mama’s Back

If your house is anything like mine, you can walk into any room and find a used juice box straw, or, worse yet, the wrapper of one. I have always found this mildly annoying, but after two full months of this, I am ready to blow a gasket every time I see one. I recently may or may not have threatened to take juice boxes away for two weeks if I saw any evidence of juice box consumption on the couch. Well, it seems I underestimated my dear daughters because they doubled down on Mama’s threats. They are now collecting the straws. Yes, they are collecting used juice box straws. Well played, girls.

They aren’t just collecting these straws whole. No, they are taking their straws and cutting them into filthy germ-filled pieces beads and storing them in an old lunch box. Their goal is to fill the lunch box and then turn these straws into necklaces. To think, I once thought their desire to collect Dixie cups was their rock bottom.

collected straws
That’s what a lunch box full of cut up straws looks like.

Maybe I should be focusing on their desire to reuse plastic. Perhaps I should hope that this leads to successful careers as modern artists focusing on repurposing common household items. Instead, I am living in constant fear that this lunchbox is going to spill or that I’ll one day be forced to wear a necklace covered in the residue of kid backwash.

straw collector
Why can’t she have this much pride in…literally anything?

Either way, Mama’s going to drink some wine and consider which is worse – the wrath of my children if I throw this crap out, or the pain of cleaning these out from every crevice in my home for the next few months.  

WMDW: Half Marathon Training Edition

Mama’s drinking wine tonight because, how else does a frazzled mom train for a half marathon? Seriously, if you know of a better way, then by all means, share it with me, ’cause I’m apparently running one in three days.

I was seriously into running a half marathon about three months ago. Winter me imagined May me to be a picture of health and athleticism. Winter me is an idiot.

Don’t get me wrong, I was pretty good there for a while. I was following the half marathon training program I printed off the internet and stuck to my fridge like I was… hmmm, I’d love to drop a long distance runner name here, but I literally can’t think of one. Prefontaine? He ran marathons, right? The fact that I’m unsure shows you how little business I have running this race.

Anyway, I was weekend long running like a champ until my children’s spring sports’ schedule started. Between baseball, soccer, and dance my husband and I haven’t been able to watch a 30-minute show together in the last month let alone fit in two hours for a long run. Did you know that the New York Yankees have fewer games and practices than my 6- and 4-year-olds? Fact.

So, my goal of 9 1/2 minute miles quickly changed to “just running the whole thing,” which then deteriorated to, “If I have to walk, I have to walk,” and has now reached “as long as I don’t need a medic, I’ll be happy” status.

That’s the point where you just say to yourself, “I could get a training run in right now, but I think I’ll just drink this glass of wine before baseball practice instead.”

Basically, if they give out a medal for the runner who has logged the least amount of miles AND drunk the most ounces liters of wine in the weeks leading up to a race, I’m pretty sure I have it in the bag.

Cheers!

WMDW: Starbucks Edition

Mama’s drinking wine tonight because this is how we left Starbucks today. Let’s just say, my Cascara Latte didn’t cut it after this.

My glass of sauvignon blanc came to the rescue at home and is reminding me to have a gratitude attitude. Thanks to Starbucks whose amazing staff immediately made a sobbing four-year-old a new hot chocolate and mopped up our mess with a smile. Another thank you to the old men sitting across from us who didn’t even blink an eye when we made our scene. Also, a huge thank you goes out to the woman who gave me a smile and a knowing nod as I walked past her holding a pile of dripping napkins.

To the group of college students standing next to us: you’re welcome for the reminder to refill your birth control.

Cheers!

WMDW: Fast Food Edition

Listen, no one’s nominating me for Mother of the Year. I let my kids watch way too much YouTube. I bribe them with treats in order for them to listen to simple directions. And we all know I feed them too much mac and cheese and myself too much wine. I have sung our bedtime song at warp speed for the last week and I didn’t even know my older kid had a day off from school yesterday until the night before. The one area I could feign superiority was fast food.

I can count the times my kids have eaten fast food on one hand. Three of those times, all they ate were a few fries. Each trip to a fast food joint was done out of pure necessity while finding ourselves in no man’s land on a road trip. I have never stopped at a local fast food joint on a whim and I have certainly never, ever brought fast food into my home.

Until tonight.

I have a lot of work to do. And the girls had dance class just down the street from a local hotbed of fast food restaurants. And I bribed my kids with their first Happy Meal. “If you get dressed immediately after class without argument, we can get a special treat.”

And now this is sitting on my dining room table.

wine and mcdonalds

I literally have nothing left to make me feel a false sense of superiority over any other mother. Well, I did read a story about a mother putting root beer in her baby’s bottle… I’ll hold that image close tonight. Cheers!

Mama’s First Meal Kit

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Mama’s drinking wine tonight because she’s trying to convince herself that the novelty of a meal kit will result in her children actually trying chicken.

My children are picky eaters. I take that back. My older daughter is a picky eater. Her little sister is a big follower (seriously, that kids needs to learn some leadership skills). This means dinnertime without a drink is just basically masochism.

I tried to seriously pump up the picky one about meal kits until she was literally begging me to order one. Well, the day has come and the menu is chicken. Tomorrow’s menu involves mushrooms. These are two of her least favorite foods. I must also note that she’s never tried a mushroom in her life.

So, this wine is going to get me through the process of following a multi-step recipe to create a meal I am pretty confident my kids won’t eat. Cheers!

The First Leon: A Man Child’s Christmas

Mama’s drinking wine tonight because her third child is driving her a little bit insane. Didn’t know I had a third child, did you? You thought I only had two precocious little girls, right? Yes, in addition to them, I also have a man child.

That’s right, I have a 38-year-old man child living in my home, though, to be fair, I usually just refer to him as my husband.

What did he do to force me to reveal his true man child identity? He messed with Mama’s Christmas ornaments. Like he’s the sort of mischievous Elf on the Shelf that bored as hell creative moms have living in their house.

I bought some fun, festive LED-lit letters this week to jazz up our dining room with some Christmas spirit. I left the room for one minute. ONE MINUTE. And this is what I come back to.

He then proceeded to talk about how great it would be if we had a friend named Leon. He was dead serious.

Glass of wine poured.

 

Mama’s Thinking About Drinking Wine…

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Go ahead. Your snowball is no match for me when I’m cozy inside.

…because this is the first year that my children are old enough to play outside in the snow by themselves. Time for celebration!

You want to stay in the cold for an extended period of time? Sure! You want to hang out while it’s precipitating something that’s not quite snow? Why not? I’ll be inside under a blanket watching Bravo.

Even I am aware that wine consumption isn’t quite socially acceptable at 11 a.m., but, luckily for me, it’s Sunday. Mimosa time.

Although, I did just see the 4-year-old eat some snow off of the lid of the garbage can. Maybe I’ll make it a Bloody Mary.

Mama’s Drinking Wine…

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Because sometimes you get to shop at Whole Foods all by yourself, which means one thing. You get to eat all the cheese. “Would I like to try that triple creme brie with some strawberry rhubarb jam? You bet your ass I do!”

Throw in some fancy crackers and a hunk of soppressata, and I had the fixings for one hell of a charcuterie board. Not bad for a night at home with the fam.

Once I put the cheese board out, how did my children react? They ran into the fridge, took out the package of processed American cheese singles, and begged to have one.

If I was a glass half empty kind of girl  I’d be drinking due to my children’s horrifying palettes. But Mama’s glass is half full tonight (not for long), because I’ll toast to anyone who leaves more cheese and hard meats for me!

Mama’s Drinking Wine…

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Because I’ll never be a television chef. Gordon Ramsey will never call me a donkey, Rachel Ray will never say anything I’ve made is yum-o, and, most tragically, Scott Conant will never be so swept away by my cooking that he asks me to immediately flee the Chopped studios and run away with him. Why? Because I cannot cut a damn onion without looking like I’m watching the series finale of Parenthood.

I just chopped an onion for dinner, which means that moments ago I had tears and snot streaming down my face. What everyone wants to see in someone preparing their food. I decided nothing paired better with broken dreams and a Tammy Faye Baker look than a glass of red.  Then I thought of the silver lining.

I’m pretty sure this onion “allergy” gives me an excuse to make boxed mac and cheese, frozen chicken nuggets, and/or pasta with jarred sauce for the remainder of the week. I mean, when Mama’s suffered this much to make dinner for her family, she deserves a break. I’ll drink to that!

onion cry

Mama’s Drink of Gratitude

My morning started with a healthy dose of what my friends and I like to refer to as RLS (Roommate Letdown Syndrome). After an amazing long weekend with some old college roommates, the first day back to the grind was a tough one. Fast forward an hour and a half later and I was strolling into a meeting 5 – okay, 10 – minutes late after being caught in road paving traffic. My boss was in attendance, an agenda item I’d completely forgotten about.

From there I was frazzled and off. It was one of those days where self-doubt consumes you and you feel like the jig is up – this is the day everyone realizes that you are basically inept at life.

I then stopped at the grocery store and got in the line with the new cashier. This meant watching the people in the surrounding lines leave in droves well before me.

I got home to find that nearly everything had fallen out of two of my grocery bags. When I climbed into the trunk of our SUV to retrieve them, I bashed me head against the roof of the car. I immediately let out a chorus of expletives that I was immediately grateful no one else was in earshot of.

Onto my favorite activity – making dinner! On tonight’s menu – chicken. This means dinnertime will be filled with both of my children shouting about how repulsive their meal is.

Then I got on the treadmill. Ever so subtly, the day’s offenses melted away.

I got off with a different perspective.

  1. I got to have an incredible weekend with people I love dearly.
  2. I got to (finally) meet the kind, thoughtful, lovely fiance of a friend I love with my whole heart.
  3. My children got to play with the adorable, soulful, and vivacious children of one of my best friends. And they hit it off big time!
  4. I have a job. One that, even on rough days like these, I love.
  5. I have money to stop at the grocery store whenever I need to. I have a car (with a hard ass roof) that gets me there.
  6. My children have the greatest grandparents in the world. My mother and father-in law took care of my kids all day, as they always do, so that I can go to work knowing they are safe and loved.
  7. Today is Irish dance day and my father-in-law, the most caring and generous man in the world, took them and brought them home so that I didn’t have to rush like an insane woman to do it.
  8. I made dinner before my kids were home from school. Let’s be honest, the entire list could be deleted and, if only this remained, it would be reason enough to celebrate.
  9. When I arrived home, I discovered that my husband had washed all the dishes (we were both WAY too tired after our trip to deal with our takeout dishes last night). Oh, and, doing dishes or not, I get to be married to a man that makes my heart burst with love and whose sense of humor makes me, sometimes begrudgingly, laugh every day.
  10. My children came home from dance happy, healthy, and adorably messy. Hair askew, wearing not quite the right dance uniform, they fill my heart and soul with more love than I ever imagined was possible.
  11. Lucky number 11 bonus – my mom and brother are on two separate trips to one of my favorite places in the entire world and I cannot wait for them to get back so I can hear all about it and live vicariously through them.

I could be home drinking in frustration, but instead I am sipping wine with a heart of gratitude. Because it really is all about perspective. And if any of you want to drink because my positivity is making you sick, go for it. I totally get it. I’ll probably be right with you tomorrow, but for now, October 11 is a good day…

drinking to a good day