11 weeks today of alcohol abstinence. I have surpassed anything I thought I could ever achieve. I am feeling more and more like a teetotaller with each passing day. Chatting with a friend last week it became apparent that I really don’t think I can do moderation where alcohol is concerned. I can with other things such as food, spending money, even chocolate but with alcohol I don’t think I can or that I don’t want to risk it. The fact that I don’t want to risk it makes me feel that that is because I know deep down there is a very strong likelihood that it would only be a matter of time before the binging began again. There is a history of alcohol related problems on my mothers side a couple of generations removed so maybe there is a genetic predisposition?
I have been spending as much time as possible with the wild things but I am beginning to think they are perhaps getting fed up with me or have taken to me so much that they have the overwhelming desire to suck the lifeblood out of me because the midgie bites are proving a little uncomfortable. I’ve always been unlucky with midges, mosquitoes as the like. Must have sweet blood or maybe it was the vino colapso they liked. Well they’ll get bored of me soon enough then. Perhaps I should see them like 18th century leeches draining the last drop of poison out of my system. Sheesh! I’ll be running for this years canonisation list if I carry on with such piety.
Whilst sitting in the peace of the wild things last night I found some bubbles in my bag. Of course you did I hear you cry. I mean doesn’t every respectable woman carry a water pistol, 7 Nerf gun bullets, princess tattoos, loose sticky tangtastics, a Barbie doll head ( yes very sinister) and a tub of bubbles? Well the woman with an 8 and 7 year old does. Sometimes if I were to be searched and they tipped out the contents of my bag I would be cuffed and taken down to a basement room lit by a single lightbulb hanging from a cord where some intimidating people would be waiting to ask some tricky questions. Such is the life of a parent and particularly a Mum simply because we’re the fools to carry a bag the size of Asia with us. Will we ever learn?
Well of course I had to blow…..
Well it would have been rude not to.
Nighty night x
Ps 77 days