I’ve been MIA lately. I read all your blogs almost everyday. I’m here, I’m sober. I’m pissed at the weather, I’m sure I have that seasonal disorder thingy and it makes me SAD! I hate the grey, dreary skies and I fucking DETEST the cold. Then move you say, wish it was that easy.
I’ve had some I would like a drink moments in the past few weeks. Husband #1 is back to almost nightly beer and wine and it royally pisses me off. He promises he’ll do another 100 days after Christmas, but the longer he drinks we all know the harder it is to quit. We’re OK now, but we had some very rough times when he first started sipping again. I resented the hell out of it and was sooooooo disappointed. What a weak son of a bitch, I thought. Meanwhile, I’m not fucking perfect either (well I’m close) so where do I get off thinking that about him. I need to stay on my side of the street when it comes to drinking. Take care of myself, it’s my life and my sobriety that’s important. But it’s hard. Anyway, we ironed some things out, we’re back on track. For now.
Olive the Puppy has turned out to be wonderful, like my salvation. I am smitten, love the hell out of her. She’s my menopausal baby, only I’m way past menopause. My last dog. Hard to say that but do the math, if she makes it to 12 years I’ll be 75. Shit. The only issue we have is that she’s ruthlessly hard on Ralph the Dog, he weighs in at 102 lbs. and he lets her chew and beat the shit out of him. He needs to throw her across the room to get her to stop hanging on his neck, but he’s too much of a gentleman. She was my one year soberversary present and I can’t let her down either, can’t drink or I’ll have to give her back, at least that’s what I tell myself so I’m now at 482 days, 500 is just around the corner.
Not to sound ungrateful but Thanksgiving will be a bitch this year. My kids and their kids and my stepmother will be here, those are the usual suspects. However, my niece and her two sons are coming. Haven’t seen them in three years. They are like the relatives from Hell. Remember National Lampoon Christmas movie where Randy Quaid shows up in a RV in a t-shirt, snorting beer. Yep, you get the picture. The two boys are 7 and 6, no manners, no discipline, etc. My niece has had it rough but… To top it off they’re not arriving until Wednesday at midnight. Knowing full well we have to get up around 5, doing the Turkey Trot again this year, make breakfast and cook most of the day for a big turkey dinner. Rude, just rude. Ok, I think I’ve bitched enough.
I worry that 13 people and 3 dogs in the house will make me want to drink. And.They. Will. I need to put that mantra in my head,” I am stronger than you (wolfie), I am stronger than you.” Doesn’t matter that it’s also Thanksgiving, 8 adults, 5 kids under 8 and 3 dogs would make anyone want to drink. Therein lies the problem. I worry Husband #1 might get a little tipsy and then I’ll be really angry. If it was anyone else I wouldn’t care, so why does it matter if it’s your spouse? Haven’t figured the exact answer to that yet. Yes, we’re a unit but we are also individuals, we are responsible for our own behavior. Tell me to hold my tongue. He doesn’t deal well with crowds, hell, he doesn’t deal well when it’s just our family. He can’t handle the noise level. He’s promised to try to not get too uptight (Type A all the way). Wish me luck. I thought I said I was done bitching. Lies, lies, lies.
So tell me to shut the f… up, be grateful that I have family, money enough to put on a big spread, house big enough to accomadate 13 people and 3 frickin dogs, and I AM SOBER so I can bitch and moan and enjoy and love every minute of it. Wish me well.
Now, I have to go hang Christmas lights. Shit. If it’s not one thing, it’s…