wine and whine

When Thanksgiving was over, I was ready to go back to regularly scheduled complaining about trivial things instead of focusing on my own life, like how I scroll through a mom’s group on facebook because they say the most privileged too much money new mom things like, “Is $1,000 too much to spend on a chair?” YES! Or “Am I spending too much money on groceries? Are you all spending $1,200 on organic gluten free hand spun agave cobwebs like I do?!” NO. I have to get my cobwebs from the dumpster because I’m on a budget. 
The group is mostly new moms which is great. For them. I’m glad they have a place. Even one where you can wag your wallet around in privilege-laden threads about fancy grocery stores and not one motherloving person says, “Sometimes I get the wine on super sale so I can drink more at home!” 
But the older my kids are, the more I feel out of place by these groups–not like I felt I had a place when my babies were babies. There were a few women I liked. But very few in the world of motherhood that swallowed me up, pitted me against women who had much more than I had and for a very small time I thought I could be in that world, too. I bought a bugaboo off Craigslist, fancier tags at thrift stores, on and on. It was exhausting. 

When I had TJ, I didn’t feel the need to pretend I was shopping in neighborhoods with respectable zip codes. It was still there though, and still is, I was too exhausted with two kids to place myself in a world I didn’t belong, in a life where my worries were about diaper bags and if the pilates studio also had childcare. But sometimes when I’m too honest, when I share too much, when I think I’m passing on a tip, I get a look of rejection like, “Oh I wouldn’t buy my wine on sale, but good for you, Mona!”    

  And then I log off facebook, tuck my phone away and find some people who are kind, who are funny and offer wine that is equally wonderful with labels that might be fancy but in each glass swirls the comforting words, “We’re fancy enough for each other, Mona. Cheers.” 

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  1. I’m not fancy. Maybe I’ve wanted to be. Maybe I want to be fancy for an hour or two every once in a while, but the truth is I’m not fancy. I can’t sustain fancy, you’ve seen my house. We didn’t grow up like those moms. And I’m glad for it. And I’m glad my kids aren’t growing up fancy – sometimes we pretend to be, but we know we aren’t. And that’s a good thing, I think. We’re fancy enough for each other, Mona.

  2. Buy the wine on sale, and THEN buy twelve so you get the case discount, right? Also, we go shopping on Saturdays when Fred Meyer has wine tasting and the play land is open because buying cabbage is way more fun if you’ve been drinking and the kid is off somewhere watching a movie about Tinker Bell.

    Related: you are my people.

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