Okay- so I had 2 glasses of red last night- but I have excuses and I feel that they are legit .

           1. I made stoganoff and it has red wine in it- which meant that I had to buy some, open it and I couldn't get the cork back in (you'll never know if that is the truth).

           2. I had a friend come over and I am not rude..had to offer her a glass, which she kindly accepted- and again not wanting to be rude, I could not let her drink alone. Okay, she only had one glass and I had two but I wanted her to feel like she could have 2 if she wanted...which she didn't...but I did!

I am not going to let this deter me.  I didn't have any glasses of wine on Monday night- which is a feat in itself.  Two on tuesday, averages out to be one a night which is much more acceptable (except in my group of friends and family) than a bottle a night which is where I was averaging until two days ago.  I am not going to have any tonight or tomorrow and then it is Friday.  Friday is fair game.  And two and a half days away....and I will be fine.

Wine..to me is like a bad boy..you know the one that you love, but isn't that good for you.  The one that you think about indulging in when you are stressed, bored, or just in the mood.  The bad guy that is actually good for you in moderation but whom you should never get addicted to or settle down with.  I have always had a thing for bad guys...and wine!

Grounding Oneself

In an effort to slip on my skinny jeans while simultaneously saving my liver I have decided, after lengthy consideration to...are you sitting down?..cut down on the wine drinking.  I came to this conclusion when PMH arrived home Friday night with a bottle of wine.  Instead of being cheery and thankful, I was annoyed that he didn't get 2 bottles- it was Friday afterall.  Later Pretty Much Hubby returned to the store and got bottle number two that only lasted an hour tops.  This my friends, is a bit of a problem.  There is no reason what so ever that a bottle of wine should not be enough for two of us on a totally average Friday night.  It was not Christmas, New Years or even National Thank Your Secretary Day and yet I felt the need to over indulge..yet again. 
I have decided to cut out the wine during the week.  No convincing myself that I need a reward after my stressful Monday.  No more tipsy Tuesdays, wine on Wednesdays or Thursdays after work while cleaning the bar Cosmo.  I will cut back on calories, save money and make my liver think it has been transplanted to another body- and I will not complain..Okay, that is a lie I am sure I will complain alot, but this is important to me.  I need to show myself that I don't need wine.  I need to explore different ways of de-stressing and I need my son to stop calling my wine glass- Mommy's Milk. 
I will not however give up completely- I am not a quitter.  I will save my Sauvignon Blanc sipping for the weekends, a beer with lunch on Saturdays and start Sundays with a Mimosa.  I enjoy drinking and I think that there is nothing wrong with it, as long as you have control...something that seems to dissipate with bottle number two. 
To Saving the Liver and Thy Self...... Wish me luck and have one for me would ya!

Just give me 24 hrs

I have a long awaited chick night tonight- complete with fruity and delicious flavored martinis, food that is not one of the following five meals that I am allowed to make/serve Pretty Much Hubby 1)spaghetti 2)beef stew 3)shepards pie 4)Shrimp Scampi or 5)Steak and rice.  I am going to wear heels that hurt and a shirt that will show off my assetts (big old boobies) and drape loosly over the Spanx line that divides me in two.  I will self tan and sprits with perfume- all for the enjoyment of my own and my dearest friend K.  I will gossip, giggle and pick on the couple next to us.  At some point during the evening K will beg me to stop making her laugh and this will give me more reason to break out my best material.

The best part of the night will be that for a few hours I will not be needed.  No one will need me to wipe their nose, run their errand or rub their back.  There will not be dishes in the sink whispering to me "clean me or I will make your house smell like McDonalds".  No cat pouncing at my ankles as I walk by, begging for a belly scratch and a treat.  I will not be wrestling a slimy, naked baby into feetie pajamas, or arguing with anyone about what to watch on TV.  The wine will not run out after the store is closed.  The waitress will not tell me it is my turn to get my second glass of wine- nor will she ask me to get her one.

I will not worry that Little Man is missing me too much- as he will be allowed to eat ice cream for dinner, won't be forced to bathe and will be allowed to stay up late with daddy.  Pretty Much hubby most likely will miss me- but as he leaves his dish in the sink he will be glad that I am not hovering behind him ready to fly off my furry slipper.  He will also not miss me when he is watching Discovery Channell with out the annoying whining in the backround "I already took history class, can't we watch Jersey Shore"...he might miss me however when LM will not let him sit for one second, or talk on the phone, or do anything but read the monkey book 17 times in a row.

Hopefully, I will get whistled at or something as I stumble my way to K's car and I will feel like "this momma still got it".  Hopefully I will not flash my boobs- something that I did quite frequently in my pre momma days.  I will end up calling PMH from the restaurant as I shush K- I will explain that I have had too much to drink and that I am staying at K's.  We will go back to her house- pour the wine that we certainly don't need and will regret in the morning and we will stay up late laughing at our drunken clumsy selves.  In the morning I will bounce back into responsibility mode-after I down 3 glasses of OJ, take 4 Ibuproffen and wipe the mascara off of my chin.

Ohwwwmmmm

Yoga- by definition (mine) is a relaxing form of stretching in which one becomes aware of the connection between mind, body and spirit (?). 

It is a new year and like many of you I am turning over a new, fit leaf.  For three (long) days now I have been doing yoga and just like I swore to you that I loved Weight Watchers I will swear to you that I love yoga! I feel like I am standing taller, my muscles feel massaged and I am already envisioning myself with a Jennifer Anniston-esq physique.  I am envisioning myself with her hair too, but that is neither here nor there.

I have been doing yoga in the comfort of my own living room both before and after work ( I know I will burn out).  In the morning I am at peace and I find that a few seconds in downward dog revives me as much as the red bull of my past.  I listen to the soft voice on the tape that tells me to close my eyes and be at peace in my body.  Little Man and Pretty Much Hubby are sleeping so I am able to capture the essence of the quiet morning.
Yoga in the PM...another story.  I thought it might be fun to ask Little Man to excersize with Mommy.  Cheerfully he accepted my invitation and attempted the first pose.  I was exstatic as I felt I had bannished the "no time to excersize" excuse.  For a minute I even pretended that I was the mother that fed her yoga doing toddler all organic foods instead of frozen pizza.  I closed my eyes and began to breathe like I was being instructed to do...And then, I was hit in the head with a book.
The remainder of my 20 miute yoga session actually took 32 minutes, as I had to pause the video three times.  Once to put Toddler With No Ears in his crib for not listening.  Once to remove him from my back while I was in a position called something, something cat and another time to set up a movie for Little Man far from my yoga mat.
By the time my session was coming to an end, and I was supposed to be meditating- I was angry, my head hurt from the hurling of the hard cover and my ears were ringing from the constant screaming.  I was not relaxed, I was not feeling like a cool, collected celebrity.  I was however, never more ready for my evening glass (or four) of wine!