Sober Birthdays

It's my birthday next week (Wednesday).

I've never had a sober birthday before. At least, not since I was about sixteen.

Birthdays were an excuse to indulge myself as much as possible. In recent years it would take me three or four days of self loathing to recover from them.

Now I realise that birthdays are not actually all about me.

The smalls are super excited. When you are seven, a birthday is the most exciting thing in the universe.

Since my birthday falls on a school day, they have insisted on throwing a pre-celebration today. I have pretended not to notice the whisperings, the secret shopping trips, the wrapping and the hiding. I am practicing my 'that's the thing I most wanted in the entire world' face - like Gwyneth Paltrow before the Oscars.

For years I didn't publically celebrate my birthday, I just got quietly trashed and maudlin with Mr SM.

But last year I decided to throw a party. I invited about 25 adults and 25 children. I prepared Sunday lunch for them all, and booked a man to turn up with live animals - snakes, spiders, MEERKATS, a chinchilla, an OWL - to entertain the kids. I bought cases and cases of wine to entertain the adults.

It cost a fortune. And I did not enjoy it.

Well, I enjoyed the beginning. The first few glasses of wine. And the end - when I could get really stuck in, and congratulate myself on having made it.

But the middle was pretty awful. Catering for fifty people when half drunk is super hard. And being a good hostess is impossible after too many vinos. I tried introducing people initially, but I'd keep forgetting names (!), and quite quickly gave up.

I couldn't relax and enjoy myself. I charged around the house, glass in hand, constantly convinced that I ought to be somewhere other than where I was.

The next day I felt like death. Plus I was paranoid that no-one had enjoyed themselves. I knew I'd not be able to shift the black mood for days. And that's the day (March 2nd 2015) I quit. Forever.

(See Secret Drinker Hits the High Bottom)

So, this year I'm throwing another party. On Friday. My first ever sober party. After my recent dice with death, I want to be able to say thank you to all my friends for being there, and to celebrate life in general.

I'm not hosting at home (too much hard work!). Instead, I've booked a private room in a swanky restaurant. I'm spending all the money I saved by not drinking alcohol on alcoholic drinks and canapes for 75 people. How ironic.

I'm a bit nervous about it, but the nervousness is swamped by building excitement.

Seventy five of my best friends, all in the same room, and I'll be sober enough to talk to them all! I'll be able to introduce people, make witty conversation.

Perhaps I'll even do a speech. Without slurring, forgetting what I was saying mid sentence and falling off the chair.

And I'll remember every single minute of it, and wake up the next day feeling....great (if broke).

Whoop whoop!

Love to you all,

SM x

Sober House Party

Saturday night was a friend's birthday party.

She'd invited fourteen of the old University gang to her house in the country for dinner, and to stay the night. We'd all managed to offload the children, so it was a rare 'grown ups only' event.

I took a six pack of the trusty Beck's Blues down with me, and stashed them in the hostess's fridge.

And you know what? I've pretty much cracked the whole partying sober thing.

For a start, it really helps when you feel physically good, which after eleven months off the booze you do.

(Click here for more on quitting drinking and losing weight).

I didn't feel totally 'hot', but did feel, at the very least, 'warm.' I wore a red lace dress, and, according to Mr SM, everybody said I looked great (admittedly, they hadn't seen me since the whole cancer thing, so their expectations were probably pretty low).

I happily drank my AF beers before dinner. Then, once we'd sat down, I let them pour me a glass of red wine, but just drank the water. (People feel edgy if their dinner companion has an empty glass. So long as it's full, they don't care, or notice, if you drink it or not).

I had great fun at dinner catching up with old friends, then I won a table football tournament hands down (easy when the opposition are all drunk), and did lots of silly dancing.

Plus, I discovered that I have a new role at parties. People want to talk to me. They offload. They ask advice. This hasn't happened to me for years! No-one wants an in depth conversation with the out of control lush....

I talked to one friend about his insomnia, another about her new business ideas and yearning to escape London, and a third about being a step mum. Proper, life enhancing conversations that I still remember!

Then, at about 1.30am I sloped off to bed, knowing that no-one would notice, and that the only bit of the party I was missing was the bit that no-one would recall clearly.

And the morning!

A house full of hangovers. What a treat. I tried really hard not to feel smug, because that would be mean and unsympathetic of me.

I failed.

As I left, the hostess gave me a hug and said "I feel awful. I think I may join you on the whole no booze thing...."

We picked the children up from my parents' house, and took them out for lunch.

I was eulogising about the fact that Pizza Express have started stocking alcohol free beer (Vive La Revolution!)

#2 piped up "Mummy, how long has it been since you had any wine?"

"Nearly a year, sweetheart," I replied. "Why? Do you prefer it when I don't drink wine? Am I different?"

"Yes," he replied, "you're more....."

We all waited in anticipation, while he searched for an appropriate adjective. Beautiful? Patient? Kind?

"......Mummyish," he concluded with a flourish.

So, there you have it. Quit drinking. You'll still have a ball at parties, and you'll be more.... Mummyish.

Love SM x