I’m going to admit that I feel a little funny writing about this topic at 8:30 on a Saturday morning, but it must be done. After all, how often do you see a game like last night’s FSU/Badger NCAA first-round tournament basketball game? Better question I have: How often do you see a game like last night’s FSU/Badger NCAA first-round tournament basketball game sans beer?
Last night’s events got me thinking…not like this is the first time it’s crossed my mind in the 25 weeks I’ve been pregnant, but every time it gets more and more irritating. Don’t get me wrong – it’s not like I was a raging alcoholic pre-pregnancy, but I was a huge fan of ordering a glass of wine when out to dinner with the girls, or having a nice cold Honeyweiss after a rough day on the job or, oh I’ll even throw in a solid evening on Block E dancing til the cabs came home. So, if you’re anything like me, when you pee on a stick one day and you’re officially off alcohol for the next 9 months with no warning and no “last goodbye”, times like happy hours or NCAA basketball tournaments feel a little…less…energetic.
I honestly didn’t think I would mind going cold-turkey (speaking of, you can’t have cold turkey either) when I first found out I was pregnant. Who would? You are carrying a little miracle that you, with the help of that “insert-your-own-adjective” man, created together. You made life. You have life inside of you. You are CARRYING LIFE, for God’s sake! So, yes doctor, I can carry life for 9 months drinking orange juice and crystal lite. Sure…no problem.
5 months pass…can I get some vodka in this crystal lite please? No. No, you still cannot.
So, that is where I am at this morning. My late Friday nights on the town have turned into early morning walks with Nate and the dog…and, truth be told, I prefer the feeling of fresh spring air on my unshowered face than cold bathroom tiles under my hungover butt. But, when I’m in that moment – game-winning shot with 2.8 seconds left on the clock and your team is down by 1 – I don’t think about that early morning walk…I think about the Summit Pale Ale that my husband is drinking and how wonderful it would be to celebrate the victory in that fashion. The grass is always greener. You always want what you can’t have. Don’t cry over spilled milk. Blah, blah, blah.
Bottom line is: I will look back at ordering all those dreaded lemonades at O’Garas Pub and laugh, because some day my little boy will look up at me, juice cup in hand, and NOT say, “Can I get some vodka in this crystal lite please?” He’ll just be satisfied with juice.