Mother's Day Memories

Mother’s Day yesterday brought to the surface some icky drinking memories, and I’ve been turning them over and over in my head and working to release them. Mother’s Day is one of the holidays that highlights how drastically my mindset has changed since I eliminated alcohol. It also highlights the prevalence and toxicity of Mommy-Wine-Culture.

I live with Virginia wine country in my backyard, so celebrations, events, and gatherings at wineries were a big part of my experience as a drinker. I spent quite a few Mother’s Days at wineries with my kids (which is alarmingly common), although none of those were “extreme” drinking situations. Not letting my kids see me drunk was one of the few rules that I somehow always managed to follow. They’re still not memories I’m proud of, though, and I can’t even imagine wanting to spend Mother’s Day that way now.

Here is what those days looked like:

We would pack up picnic blankets and toys and park ourselves on a winery lawn with friends. We encouraged the kids to do their own thing and leave us alone so the adults could drink without interruption. I’d always start the day by saying I would only have a glass or two, but I would always end up with a heavy buzz, a headache, and the desperate need for a two-hour nap. I would then want to skip any dinner out or other activities we had planned later in the day. I was tired, cranky, distant, and focused on the alcohol – not spending time or connecting with my children.

And how the hell did we get home? I never drove after drinking, but I was totally guilty of letting my husband drive in situations when I knew he shouldn’t have.

Now, it’s totally okay to want alone time on Mother’s Day, but the way I did it was all wrong.

I wasn’t asking for some precious and much-needed time to myself to fill my metaphorical cup. I was acting distant and leaning away while focused on how much I “needed” wine to make the tough parts of motherhood tolerable. I was giving in to the idea that wine was self-care and it alleviated my parenting struggles. Total BS.

Of course, everyone agreed and laughed about how drinking wine was the perfect way to spend the holiday because having kids made us need and want to drink. Just look at the number of cards that have a wine theme! But, there were no real connections or memories being made, and I would wake up the next day feeling depressed, hungover, cranky, and miserable. They weren’t memories to cherish, that’s for sure. I always walked away from the weekend with a sense of disappointment, like I had once again let down myself and my family. Nothing about those days reflected the type of mother I wanted to be.

Then there was the year I went on a winery tour with friends the day before Mother’s Day. We were gone for hours in a rented party bus and hit several wineries. I ended the day totally blacked out, having to ride home for 45 minutes on the bus by myself. I don’t remember anything until I woke up the next morning, still dressed with my sunglasses on and purse on my arm. I was SO hungover, ashamed, and terrified of all the bad things that could have happened. I spent Mother’s Day pretending I wasn’t violently ill and praying for any chance to squeeze in a nap and eat something greasy. I just wanted the day to be over, and I then avoided a few people from that day for years because I was so embarrassed.

There was also a time I went to a friend’s house on Mother’s Day for a little brunch, only to walk home hours later after a bottle of champagne and pass out on the couch for hours. I just wanted to be left alone and skip our dinner reservations for the evening. Again, I had to pretend I wasn’t day-drunk, hungover, and miserable. Another anti-climactic Mother’s Day that left me feeling ashamed and raw.

The common theme on all of these Mother’s Days was the idea that being a mom is brutal and that we deserve to drink in order to alleviate the pain and stress of it all. We should 'get' to numb ourselves and detach in order to cope.

Mother’s Day for me now reflects that parenting has become so much more joyful since ditching booze. I want my kids to spoil and celebrate me because I’m a damn good mom. I want to be with them, make memories, and spend quality time. Yes, I also want to drink my coffee in peace and go for a long run without interruption, but then I want to savor time with my family and remember every moment. I don’t want to be numb or foggy. I want to be present and engaged. I also want to wake up the next morning feeling good about myself. I want to like who I see in the mirror and know that I’m doing a good job with my boys.

I want to be able to look back fondly on Mother’s Day instead of remembering it with a pit in my stomach like I did for some of those past years.

We miss out on so much when we give in to the demands of Mommy Wine Culture and treat Mother’s Day like a drinking holiday. We’re unknowingly draining the joy out of motherhood. It’s a tremendous loss, and we often don’t realize it’s happening until it’s too late.

It also sends unfortunate messages to our kids – whether we think they’re old enough to absorb them or not. I promise – they’re paying attention.

I’m here to tell you that no matter HOW you spent this Mother’s Day – if it looked like one of my boozy years past, and you’re feeling down on yourself and a bit raw today, it is never too late to make a change. You won’t regret it! Parenting is infinitely easier and more enjoyable without alcohol holding us back and diminishing us at every turn.