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Mommy Juice: The Absurdity of Mom Wine Culture

Mommy Juice: The Absurdity of Mom Wine Culture

Can we pause for one second before we crack open the Rosé and think, Where am I going with this? Closer to life or further away? Why? Is this what it means to be alive? Is there some kind of connection to this—the wine, the food, the sex, the 500th Netflix show, whatever—and the disconnection we’re seeing in the world? Maybe?

Furious Mom

Furious Mom

I'm furious the alcohol industry is allowed to get away with peddling their drug in all its cheap and beautifully packaged guises in broad daylight. Right next to where I buy my kids veggies and milk. It should be sold in a seedy dark back alley in a shop with the windows blacked out (symbolism) where you have to ring a doorbell to gain entry and walk past a slobbering, growling Rottweiler to get to the dealer to ask for your Rose.

Do I Have to Hit Rock Bottom?

Do I Have to Hit Rock Bottom?

Here it goes: since I was probably 15 I've struggled with drinking. Over the years I've done many things that could have completely destroyed the parts of my life I value the most. And if I'm being honest I have caused myself and others some significant pain. Being married and have kids now it seems like the stakes are much higher so my relationship with drinking has started to weigh heavily on my mind. After one incident I stopped drinking for a year but slowly I put new rules in place about when and how much I drink and I've managed to keep everything kind of under control for now.