Scroll through your Facebook feed any time after noon, any day of the week, and you’ll likely bear witness to one of the most commonly-used jokes there is, courtesy of all your fellow mom friends: Is it Wine O’clock yet? While I understand the yearning — the sweet, delicious, relaxing yearning — for a smooth glass of escapism to un-fray one’s nerves, I suspect that most moms don’t actually get to drink much of that wine they’re waxing poetic about on social media.
I should know — as a fan of a good Cabernet and mother of two very loud children, I myself have tried many many times to indulge in a glass of vino after a long day. And each time, I have failed miserably.
How can one screw up the simple act of consuming a beverage, you ask? Please, allow me to explain the many stages of attempting to drink a glass of wine — as only a mom could understand.
- It’s Friday — and it’s been a long week. You decide it’s high time you break open a fancy bottle of red from the wine fridge and treat yourself. Hey, you deserve it!
- But then you start to look for a clean glass, and suddenly, a loud crash and some crying is heard in the other room. Distracted, you rush to investigate.
- Wine opener in one pocket and snotty tissues from melodramatic child in the other, you head back to locate a clean(ish) wine glass, but settle on a juice glass instead because, well, they’re closer.
- Annoyed at yourself for putting glasses back on the shelf that were still a little funky to begin with — even after a run through the dishwasher — you hand-wash the least-dirty glass you find with a wet paper towel and all is right with the world again.
- You put your glass aside to dry while you cook chicken nuggets (again) and break up a fight over something no two sane people would ever fight about.
- You slip away to pry open the bottle and pour a tall glass while the kids are distracted by something — probably the cat puking on the only white rug in the house or a bug smashing into the window — and you try your best to escape the madness.
- Softly and sweetly you whisper to yourself, “Cheers” — and take your first long-awaited sip.
- Eyes closed, you almost start to say, “Ahhh…” but the toaster oven timer bleeps you to attention, and you’re quickly snapped out of your glory.
- You rush to the table to serve those chicken nuggets, trip over a hula-hoop en route that you didn’t even know you owned, and promptly drop half the nuggets on the floor. Sadly, this also the moment you realize the floor is FAR too dirty for the 5-second rule. Dammit!
- OK, don’t sweat it. Next, you resort to Plan B and start cooking a hamburger for one of the kids, since that was the last of the nuggets. (Because of course it was.) Luckily, cursing under your breath seems to help you cook faster, so you continue to do so.
- You then reach for your glass to take another luxurious sip while flipping the burger, only to discover one of your kids’ Shopkins toys is swimming in a pool of what is now red sadness.
- You dump the glass out and attempt a refill, but before you can, you are pulled to the table by a child who needs help with homework. The same homework she told you was finished before dinner, but of course it wasn’t because all children are lying liars full of lies.
- The next 10 minutes are spent running from homework to burger and back again in many frantic laps, keeping an eye out for rogue hula-hoops along the way.
- Finally, you (miraculously) get dinner on the table, and pour a new glass of wine while the kids wash hands and hustle into their seats.
- This is when the requests begin: Cut this, smell that, need ketchup, hate ketchup, want more milk, didn’t want milk … and so on, and so on, ad nauseam.
- Once everyone is happy, you remember that you haven’t peed since … honestly, you have no idea; so you bolt to the bathroom.
- Feeling much relieved, you return to the dinner table, but those kids of yours are already long gone by the time you get there, apparently having swallowed whole the food they did nothing but insist they hated the entire time you were cooking it.
- You grab for your wine, to hopefully enjoy at the table by yourself, when you realize you stupidly left it over by the sink. of the kids knocked the glass into the potpourri of backwash and condiment-smeared dishes when cleaning up after himself.
- For a moment, you consider refilling again, but that thought is swiftly interrupted by the sound of running bathwater and the giggles of a little kid who never had permission to go upstairs to bathe herself.
- Cut to: Three hours later. The kids are clean and in bed, the lights are off, the mess has been mopped up from the bathroom … and you have nothing left in your weary bones to do anything else other than fall onto the closest couch for the rest of the night. (Or at least until your husband wakes you up and tells you to go to bed.)
- Four days later, you’ll discover that you never put a cork back in the bottle anyway, and you will mournfully dump the remnants of it down the drain, hoping for better luck next time.
… Sound familiar?