Booze and Hormones

I honestly don't think about drinking much these days. The more time goes on, the easier everything gets....

....but the problem with that is that you begin to forget about all those dark days, and how bad it once was.

You start to think "Am I crazy? What am I thinking being so extreme, so black and white about the whole drinking thing? Perhaps I've been overreacting! Of course I can have an eensy weensy glass of wine from time to time...."

(For more on this one, see my post: Did I Overreact?)

And I've discovered that this incredibly annoying thought process is most likely to occur when there are hormones involved.

When we drink a lot, we get really out of the habit of listening to our bodies. The dramatic cycle of drinking-hangover-drinking, with all its associated mood swings, rather overwhelms everything else.

Back at four months sober, I wrote a post (click here) about how amazing it was, once your body got used to functioning without booze, to feel properly in synch with your natural rhythms - your sleep, your appetite and your moods.

But the other thing I've realised is that, having been pretty much oblivious to PMT for ages, I'm now very much aware of it. And that's when I start having all the What's it all about?!? thoughts.

(Funnily enough, my friend the addiction counsellor, tells me that she sees many women who had no problem with booze until they hit menopause. I wonder whether it was the hormone soup that tipped them over the edge?)

So, if you're early on in this whole journey, or even an old pro, then watch out for those dastardly hormones. They're the wine witch's best friend...

Incidentally, with #1 approaching thirteen, our house is a veritable bubbling volcano of hormones. Poor Mr SM - who has no sisters, and went to a boys boarding school from the age of seven - is finding the whole puberty thing somewhat unnerving.

On Sunday morning he asked "What are we all going to do today?"

#1 was angling for a family trip to her favourite French restaurant, so she said "Why don't we look for a little Brasserie?"

Mr SM looked horrified. He replied "Darling, you know I am a modern man" (he so is not) "but I do have to draw the line somewhere, and shopping for undergarments is very much a Mummy thing."

I left #1 to explain to her father the (very many) differences between a brassiere and a Brasserie.

Hormones. How can something so tiny wreak so much havoc?

Love SM x

Deal With the Next Minute

It's good to be home.

Sometimes, all you need is a week away to appreciate everything that you've got.

After not seeing the children for seven whole days, right now they could refuse to eat everything I cook, lose all their homework and turn their bedrooms into cess pits, and I'd just smile benignly and wrap them in a bear hug.

After a week with absolutely no household chores, I've even fallen back in love with my domestic appliances. I watched my (previously loathed) washing machine as it valiantly chugged through the fourth load of laundry with a feeling akin to awe.

I threw myself at the Times yesterday, like a man in a desert discovering an oasis. I'd missed my favourite columnist: Caitlin Moran.

I have a girlie crush on Caitlin. I love her witty, intelligent writing. I adore her fearlessness. I'm grateful for the way she's made feminism cool again. And I love that blondish, badger like streak in her hair. She's awesome.

So, I thought I'd share my favourite bit of Caitlin, because it's really helpful. She wrote it for teenage girls going through the onslaught of puberty, but it's totally appropriate for all of us....

Here is a promise, and a fact: you will never, in your life, ever have to deal with anything more than the next minute.

However much it feels like you are approaching an event – an exam, a conversation, a decision, a kiss – where, if you screw it up, the entire future will just burn to hell in front of you and you will end, you are not.

That will never happen. That is not what happens.

The minutes always come one at a time, inside hours that come one at a time, inside days that come one at a time – all orderly strung, like pearls on a necklace, suspended in a graceful line. You will never, ever have to deal with more than the next 60 seconds.

Do the calm, right thing that needs to be done in that minute. The work, or the breathing, or the smile. You can do that, for just one minute.

And if you can do a minute, you can do the next.

So, if you're finding things hard right now, then listen to Caitlin, and just deal with the next minute....

And HUGE CONGRATS to Melanie from Boston who's dealt with a whole bunch of minutes - in fact a whole year of them. Got sober, moved across the country and set up a fabulous new business.

Happy Soberversary, Melanie!

Love to you all,

SM x