When I became a mother 5 1/2 years ago, I had the usual trepidations (twin pregnancy, a very humbling experience), but they were primarily related to identity and large asses and careers plummeting. The worst that happened (single parenting, sick babies, loneliness and isolation) was only terrible on reflection. These challenges occurred in a tunnel of daily-ness, determination, and survival, the kind of struggle that is blessedly free of time to realize the pit one’s in.
And the fierce love, Mommy the Lionheart person who emerged… I liked her. She was a tough chick with something to fight for, with a whole nest full of innocents to protect. Protect!! … Finally a purpose for all that argument and verve and intensity.
Little by little, the thought would pass through my tired busy mind that they were changing me, protecting me. I would swiftly dismiss it (I didn’t want to be one of those parents — the ones that use their kids energy and love to feed themselves). So I muscled along, determined that this love would be one-way, sacrificial, selfless. It was my crowning glory, my most secret pride (that I loved my children more than myself, that they were better and more deserving than I)…
But this sacrifice (even this quiet fierce kind — whose outside appearance was “those annoying kids” to my friends, but at home was “can I get you anything else, honey?”), took a measure of me, and killed it, broke it. And even while there was an inside thought that this was as it should be, there was a wild girl inside that wouldn’t have it. That wouldn’t couldn’t live this way. So I drank. Too much. Too often. Until “occasionally” became “daily”… until “for fun” became “because I need it to get through…”
And so I’ve reached another crossroads of Motherhood— the best thing I’ve ever done, will ever do. I want to give my daughters my whole self, my full standing up tall singing self. To do this, I need to reclaim some pieces for me… so that these, my most beloved daughters, the most precious girls, will learn that to be wild and free AND a mother is possible. Is necessary.
So I’ve decided to give up my beloved glass(es) of evening wine. For my daughters, but mostly for myself.
Because I want to believe we mamas can be wild and free, without aid of any substance but our loving tough hearts, and big big dreams…
I’ll look forward to our Shirley Temples then when you’re back in Hotlanta.
xox
A decision to take a difficult journey, good for you!
Good for you, little momma. And awesome for those little girls.
You are a brave, brave woman. I have to tell you — notwithstanding my gig at The Whinery blog, I wonder (and I think Mr. PunditMom is wondering, too), if maybe those evening glasses of wine are getting to be a bit much. I am trying to be more moderate. But I may end up taking the same toad you are if my self-control doesn’t prevail. You have my admiration.
P.S., I LOVE the culottes and the knee socks — VERY chic!
I am really really proud of you.
I’m proud. You are a good mama, you know that?
Way to go girl, I’m proud of you! I’ve also given up the booze, although for far less altruistic reasons. Keep it up
That’s a hard thing to do–to come to the point where you decide it’s time.
It is okay to still be a woman with a life when we are mothers. How else will our children learn to respect that in women?
Major kudos for making the decision. Bonus points for putting it out there for all to read.
Oh. Best of luck… no.. not luck… best of determination to be a healthier you to you. d
I am so proud of you. I was at dinner last night with my dad who has about 25 years sobriety now. It can be done. And you’ll do him one better by not waiting until your kids are adults. You are amazing.
Here I am once again calling you brave. Maybe someday I too will be able to give up the wine. Not just yet though… I wish you the best of luck. What a beautiful post.
Good for you. After all, it’s a lot easier to be what you want to be when the wine’s not getting in the way. And, perhaps it requires more courage to face yourself without the buzz.
Everything in moderation, I say,
P
I doubt you will feel like jumping, cute in a culotte, right away, but the rewards I imagine will make it worth it.
{Love the site…}
“So I muscled along, determined that this love would be one-way, sacrificial, selfless. It was my crowning glory, my most secret pride (that I loved my children more than myself, that they were better and more deserving than I)…”
How did you reach in and pull those thoughts from my head? (Only you articulated them way better than I could have.)
That, I think, is the hardest element of motherhood — realizing that you don’t have to parcel out endless pieces of yourself until there’s nothing left of the woman from Before.
Your self-truths continue to amaze and inspire me.
you brave, amazing woman, you. go kick that wine’s ass.
You are one of the most amazing people I have ever met. You continue to astound and inspire me with your self awareness, your honesty and your determination. I admire you for setting a positive example for your girls and working to create the future you desire. I’m always here with a diet coke waiting!
I can heartily recommend it as a lifestyle choice.
Kudos to you for knowing yourself so well and for having the determination to change a behavior. Your daughters will take away a great example and a valuable lesson on how much love can change us for the greater good.
You go, Mom! This is such a brave decision; and sharing it publicly is even braver.
Good luck and good job. Thanks for sharing the story.
Do remember just days ago when you commented on this post:
http://svmomblog.typepad.com/chicago_moms/2007/09/open-marriage-b.html
“Sister, you are motherfucking brave and fabulous!”
Well, that’s you, mama.
Those are some serious gauchos, sister. I love ‘em. I’ve been a little out of the loop — back to work, babe in daycare, babe home sick from daycare, and so on. But I’m now catching up with Redsy. I’m thinking about you in this stage of the journey.
I don’t drink much, but I certainly do self-medicate with sweets. Thank you for sharing this intimate detail of your life, and thank you for your example of bravery.
I hope I can follow suit, and give my girl my best self.
You amaze me, Rachel. I hope this helps you.
Awesome. Well we can not drink together here in Seattle then. Good luck!