Mom Calls For End Of "Mom's Love Wine" Culture And I Won't Stand For It
MARBLEHEAD (CBS) – It’s joked about on Facebook, in the movies and on TV – moms need wine.
But according to a Marblehead mother, there is nothing funny about it and now she is trying to change a culture that she believes is ruining lives.
“I think talking about needing wine, or needing to drink in order to be a mom, is really dangerous,” she said.
Laura hopes that society will eventually get the message that parenting is a gift, not a burden that requires self-medication.
Full story here.
Noooooo! Alcoholism isn’t a joke (in the way that you can say, “you drive to drink” to someone as a joke, but you can’t write a blog calling alcoholics big babies), and I think if you have any situation where there’s pressure to consume substances it can be dangerous.
Now that we’ve got the disclaimer out of the way: you can’t get rid of Mom’s Love Wine Culture! You can’t! These are our moms we’re talking about here! These wonderful ladies aren’t working the desk, they’re on the front lines motherfucker. I imagine raising kids is shit. There’s no ‘me time’, goddamnit. There’s no fucking ‘me time’. You’re in an emotional desert. You’re dehydrated. You’re staring at the mirage of a time where you could sit on the couch for five minutes without a kid screaming for a bedtime story or a fresh set of piss-free sheets. Your lips are chapped but you can’t even put on chapstick because you’ve got a kid in each hand and are still somehow putting dinner together. You can’t live like this. You need a break, everybody needs a break. This is the Germans and the British playing a game of soccer between the trenches during Christmas of 1914. This is Rocky and Apollo Creed becoming best friends after being the most bitter of foes. Life is darkness, existence is pain, and you can’t go it alone.
If sipping some merlot out of a sippy cup is going to make you feel good, then for the love of god, pour that sweet, sweet nectar. You know Dad’s doing what he’s got to do. Who knows what lies he’s spinning to get a fucking breather. Probably working “late” again when he’s really pounding a couple drinks at the bar, switching off jim beam on the rocks with altoids to cover his tracks- and you’re trying to get these little fuckers to bed. So let that wine pour, moms everywhere, numb the pain. Do you. Get tipsy for the post-bedtime book club. Take your well earned respite. If it’s time to bring little Stacy to school and you’re passed out in a tub full of vomit, then you’ve taken it a little too far- but up until that point you’re good. Swirl that motherfuckin’ pinot, ladies.
