Stephanie Wilder-Taylor is the mother of three daughters — 16-month-old twins and a 4-year-old. She is a blogger, both on her own site, Baby on Bored, and on Mommytrackd.com, where she writes a column called “Make Mine a Double, Tales of Twins and Tequila.”
She is also the author of three books, “Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay,” “Naptime is the New Happy Hour” and the soon to be published “It’s Not Me, It’s You: Subjective Recollections of a Terminally Optimistic, Chronically Sarcastic, Occasionally Inebriated Woman.”
You are beginning to see a pattern here? Wilder-Taylor likes to drink. She likes it too much.
Yesterday on MommyTrack’d she wrote a brutally honest essay about her problems with alcohol. By going public, she says, she hopes to rally strangers round to keep her sober.
She is doing this, she wrote, for her children. But that means facing the fact that the stress and tedium of being a mother is part of what keeps leading her back to the bottle in the first place:
I drank often when Elby was a baby to help deal with the stress of a new infant. I found myself drinking more than I had before I became a parent and I drank with other moms to bond and unwind (yes, I’m the cocktail play date mom and I stand by it being a healthy thing to do in moderation, in walking distance, if you’re not me). Before I got pregnant with the twins I had pretty much stopped drinking because I felt it was becoming a habit so when I was pregnant, it was extremely easy not to drink. But when the twins were born and I was home and my milk was dried up and postpartum was setting in, the simplest thing to do seemed to be to have a glass of wine.
It was only too darn easy to fall back into the pattern (especially once the babies started having a regular bedtime) of having my wine every night. For some people I’m sure this is a nice thing, a tribunal thing (a drink at the end of the day with their spouse or friends). For others it might be a once in awhile treat to go out and have a couple of cocktails. For me, it’s become a nightly compulsion and I’m outing myself to you; all of you: I have a problem.
I quit on Friday, May 22nd.
I’m scared, of course, to put this out there. I’m also scared of not having alcohol as a crutch to relax at night. I’m scared I’ll just have to sit in anxiety, hearing every little noise the babies make, wondering if they’ll wake up, wondering if Sadie’s puked or if Mattie’s too cold or if I was a good enough, loving enough mommy to Elby today. I’m scared to have nothing to numb that ever present worry and my circular thinking. I’m afraid of always having to listen to myself think.
But I’m more scared that my consumption of alcohol will consume my life and I can’t afford that. I need to be present for my husband in the evening; I need to be fully reliable for all three of my children at all times and, for me, if I’m 100% honest with myself, I can’t do that if I drink.
You can read the entire essay here. (Salty language warning.) And yes, she plans to take the word “tequila” out of the title of her column. But not quite yet.
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