Sometimes it's really hard not to reward myself with a drink at dinner, especially after the day with the kids has been difficult.
Today was one of those days. Finn, who's three, was ignoring me. I told him not to eat something, and not only did he keep eating it when I thought he'd put it back, he refused to do a "time out" on the stairs.
Some days are tougher than others.
I felt my chest hurt. I felt my stomach go a bit tense. I wanted to shout. I felt pushed too far. As soon as my husband walked in the door, I got Finn to "tell Daddy" what he did. And I wanted to pour myself a drink. I could hear my brain making a million excuses why I "deserved" this drink, why I needed a little luxury at the end of a rough parenting day.
I didn't pour it. I got out a wine glass and filled it with juice. I sat down to eat with my family. Halfway through dinner, it seemed the situation had dissipated, so I found myself thinking "OK, I could have a drink now, and it would be OK. It wouldn't be because I'm too stressed." I sat with it. I even envisioned how much I'd have -- just about a quarter of a glass, that's all. Wasn't that OK? I wasn't feeling upset any more, so wouldn't it be all right?
I knew I had to sit with these thoughts before doing anything. A tiny, tiny part of me suggested what might really be going on here: perhaps the pain is still there. And perhaps the part of me that's saying it's OK to have a drink, that the stress is gone, is an unhealthy, frightened part that doesn't want to feel the pain of powerlessness.
I don't want to deal with things by numbing the pain I'm in. I'll never figure out what's under that pain, and how I can best challenge it, unless I feel it fully first. Sit with it. Figure out what parts of my body are feeling out of wack. And just feel those things before deciding to do something different, to do something from a healthy part of me.
So the kids are in bed, my husband's gone into work for a few hours, and the wine bottle's on the counter.
It will stay there. Unopened.
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oh how i can relate to that pain in your chest... to feeling pushed too far, and to craving something/anything to give you a real, tangible solution to the 'issue at hand' (or to 'numb the pain'). and then, in my more clear moments I try to remember that these little souls are here to teach us, to help us grow, to inspire us to be better versions of ourselves... somehow, a part of that comes with pushing us to our limits so that we can figure out how to let go and move through those limits. sending you love and grace my friend (from across the miles). You are a fabulous mama, and an even better human.
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