Do as I say, not as I do

So my BFF will find this post amusing.

She will find this post amusing because our book group is currently reading Dry and she and I finished it about the same time. And we have had MANY phone calls since. After reading Dry, I was ready to check myself into rehab. Seriously.

When I was pregnant with Dagny, I decided I would never drink again. Being sober at weddings, parties, and family functions can do that to you. Drunk people are so gross to sober people. Soon after my daughter arrived, I thought "OMG, what was I thinking I would very much like a glass ( or two) of chardonnay...Now...Hurry....Faster...Give me that damn bottle". I quickly hopped off the wagon and poured myself a glass. And this led to many discussions between my husband and I on how we'd like to handle alcohol and the consumption of it, in our home.

In my husbands home, alcohol was always around. Dad would have the evening cocktail, and mom would join. Was there a 2nd cocktail? Or a 3rd? B doesn't know. He knows his parents drank, they went to parties, sometimes with him. The adults would get loud, and laugh and the kids knew if they waited long enough into the night, they could ask for say, a new BMX bike, because soon dad is going to see clearly, what a very good idea that is. My homelife was different. My parents divorced when I was very young and I lived with my mother. My mom never drank. If we went to the beach for the weekend, she'd get all crazy and buy a 6 pack of Corona and some limes. The 6 pack would last her all weekend. My dad, on the other hand, was an alcoholic, but I never saw any outward signs of it. Well, except that time he threw my grandma and great aunt into the pool, you know, with their clothes on and all . I am pretty sure alcohol was involved in that one. There were far too many inward signs, like say, "forgetting" to come and get me for the weekend. But other than that, he was a happy, fully functioning drinker, and sooooo much more fun to be with than my mom ( go figure).

My father quit drinking when I was about 13, which really couldn't have been worse timing on his part. During the next few years, I was schooled in the world of recovery. I was encouraged to go to Al-Anon meetings given many books to read. I learned this was a genetic disease and I am about only two wine coolers away from needing treatment myself. This scared the shit out of me and has sort of put a damper on my drinking career. Every time I leave the party with a lampshade on my head, I'd wake up the next morning and think " Aha ! That was it ! That was rock bottom! You crazy drunk girl."

So when I became a parent, I thought long and hard about what kind of message I wanted to send to my kids regarding the use(s) of alcohol, and what is and isn't acceptable. I was raised in two very different households...A home where alcohol was virtually everywhere, even when it was removed, and a home where alcohol was never present, unless we went to the beach and Jean got CRAZY a drank a beer. Eventually, our family culture and lifestyle led us to where we are today. And where we are today, is for the most part pretty balanced bordering on sometimes questionable. The sometimes questionable part sometimes bothers me. I have a wonderful group of friends and family and we love to entertain, play games, get loud, watch someone fall off a chair ( or through a toilet, whatever, same dif) all while we drink festive spirits. Is this a proper message to be sending kids?

So today, when we were driving home from the pool, my daughter asked me " Mom, what's an alcoholic?" The fact that when I hear that word, I twinge, bugs me. I went into a completely vague, superficial, description about people lying in their own vomit, drinking vodka in your coffee, etc etc. Then she started to ask about my wine consumption, and my having a glass of wine ( or two) with dinner and a glass of wine ( or two) while I watch TV at night. I then had to remind her of the evenings I do not drink wine. I tried to explain to her that all things in moderation are good. Like Twinkies. A Twinkie ever now and then is WONDERFUL! 300 Twinkies, not so much. Wine every now and then PERFECT, especially if you have just a tad too much ! Wine for breakfast? Not so much.

But the whole discussion, just seemed so eerily timed since my BFF and I have been discussing this very topic. She is part of my village and since we are raising our families together, it is crucial I get her input on all this. She, along with Bri, have very fond memories of their parents at parties, lampshades on their heads, kids running wild and peering over the railing watching their parents tell completely not funny jokes, and even worse, dance. I bring my split personality buzzkill baggage which swings back and forth between "we all need AA, immediately" and "A six pack should last us all weekend!" and they all tell me to shut the fuck up and go get them another beer. I think what I need to come to grips with is, it's a slippery rope. Knowing how much is too much, how silly is too silly, how many wrestling matches between my mother and I do my kids need to witness?

I can tell you right now, this will be something my adult children and I will discuss in therapy in about 20 years. They will be all " Mom, and then you DANCED, with DINGUS, and you had that LAMPSHADE on your head! And now I am cutting-bulimic-tweaker and it's all your fault"

And they will probably be right.