Just back from a spectacular, butter-glutted, wine-soaked Thanksgiving feast. Sadly, the effects of the alcohol are about to wear off, so I'd better post quick before I think better of it. My friend Sandy and I consumed two bottles of wine and a respectably-mixed Blueberry Tea during and after her admirably appointed dinner tonight, notwithstanding the fact that our children were present. Luckily the husbands were in attendance to see to all matters of infant hygiene, care and feeding.
Here is what I've noticed. Now that I have had children, my alcohol tolerance has gone the way of the full-night's-sleep and the long-soak-in-the-tub. Why is that? How did I become simultaneously:
- a nursing mother, cradling my young one at the breast, wiping away little bits of frothy milk from her cherubic lips;
- a daughter of Artemis (or would it be Hestia?) at once gentle, terrible, and fecund, nurturing the children scampering about my feet; and
- a totally cheap drunk?
Please don't examine too closely the punctuation of that last sentence. I finally had to settle on a bulleted list to make any sense of it.
Tomorrow, daughter #2's finished cardigan. If I'm not too hung over.