Let’s be honest: the stereotype of moms joking about needing a glass of wine is a cliché that ranks right up there with yoga pants, coffee, and minivans. But the truth is, wine becomes a necessary companion in the wild ride of motherhood. I could probably survive without stretchy fabrics or even coffee (gasp), but life without wine? Not a chance.
I’ve given it a shot, and let me tell you, it was a disaster.
I find solace in a glass of wine because, one time, my little one decided to roll a shopping cart across a bustling parking lot while I was loading the baby into the van. Cars swerved, and people rushed to catch him as he gained speed toward a busy street. We managed to grab him just in time, but before I could catch my breath, the baby had a massive blowout — right in the car seat. Welcome to motherhood, where chaos reigns supreme.
I pour myself a drink because my mom is battling cancer, and sometimes her voice struggles to rise above the joyful noise of my kids. One day, I stepped into another room for a quiet chat with her when my youngest slipped out the back door, leaving it wide open. After a frantic search, I found her on the next street over, barefoot and only in a diaper. That night, after I tucked the kids in, I sank into a hot bath, clutching my glass of wine as if it were my lifeline to sanity.
My husband glanced at me, hesitated, and asked, “Want a refill?” Absolutely.
I drink because boys are little tornadoes of destruction. One moment, they’re outside smashing the water spigot with a shovel to see what happens. When I couldn’t fix it myself, I had to call my husband to come home from work to avoid flooding our yard. That kind of situation makes me crave something comforting — like carbs and, yes, wine.
I drink because when my oldest gets into trouble, sending him outside can lead to unexpected art projects, like spray painting “I LOVE YOU” on the driveway — love it may be, but it’s also permanent! I drink because my kids have a knack for swallowing batteries or sticking things in outlets. And let’s not even discuss the trampoline we thought would be a good idea. What were we thinking?
There was also that time one of my kids became so constipated that I ended up in the emergency room, witnessing a nurse perform a manual extraction. Gross doesn’t begin to cover it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she poured herself a drink that night too.
Recently, I cleaned our car and found bubblegum crammed into the hole where the headrest should go, smeared on windows and seats. There were sandwich crusts petrifying between the seats and Barbie dolls covered in peanut butter lying beneath papers and boxes. Honestly, just looking at my car makes me want to pour a glass of wine. It’s so messy I’m embarrassed to take it for a cleaning, so I keep driving it like a badge of honor. Crushed goldfish don’t stop me; I keep going.
Today at the grocery store, my kids were relatively well-behaved, but my toddler kept grabbing at my shopping list, my middle child was meowing like a cat, and my oldest was bombarding me with questions. I just needed a moment of clarity. I quickly filled my cart with essentials like Cheerios and fish sticks, adding a box of wine as I headed to the register.
As the cashier scanned my wine, I saw recognition in her eyes — she understood the struggle. She glanced at my kids, who were currently belting out “Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae),” then back at me, frantically digging through my purse. She handed me the wine and said, “Girl…you need this.” And let me tell you, girl, I absolutely do.
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In summary, motherhood is a beautifully chaotic adventure that often requires a glass of wine to navigate. From grocery store escapades to unexpected emergencies, every moment is a reminder of why moms deserve to indulge.