I am overwhelmed at the number of folks who responded to this month’s theme. Apparently everyone has some sort of relationship with booze, good or bad. We have 15 entries and five of those are from new participants! It’s also neat to see the range of everyone’s interpretation of this theme. You all surprise and impress me every month. So without further ado, let’s check out the entries:

Jeb’s My Old but Rarely-Seen Friend, John Barleycorn
I admire his dedication to the finer qualities of scotch. Personally I think it tastes like dirt. But I also like the image of Jeb throwing back tequila shots.

Gina’s Drinkin’ Buddies – NOT
I can imagine that working as a volunteer EMT, you only see the bad side of alcohol. Moderation sounds like the way to go. It also goes to show you that while drunk dwarfs sound like they would be funny, they’re not so much in real life.

Kim R’s Drinkin’s Buddies
Indeed, it ain’t easy being green.

Rachel’s Without you
Isn’t it funny how the booze can seem like a character all its own in our lives and not always a passive one.

Jen’s Closing Time
Here’s to being a cheap date! I love it too! And I can totally understand using alcohol to slow down my brain without necessarily turning it off.

Candice’s To all the cocktails I’ve loved before
I’m glad your best friend and your husband, who seem on opposite ends of the drinking spectrum, both support you so well. And I’m gonna have to try one of these mythical pear mojitos at PF Changs.

Peg’s Hi, My Name is Peg, and …
You bring up an interesting point of how your kids would react to your drinking. I’ve never experienced my parents even a little tipsy and I could see how it would be hard to explain.

SuziCate’s Jose Cuervo Is Not My Friend
I’m no fan of tequila myself. It just stinks to me! Rich loves it, though. I like the idea of healthy relationships with liquids.

Deb’s I’d Rather Have a Bottle in Front of Me
I can’t agree more with the biggest problem with excessive drinking being missing out on stuff.

Karal’s To retch or not to wretch
I laughed out loud at the confusion over retch and wretch (and Googled the spelling for both).

Rich’s Cause I’m Clever When I’m Drunk
My husband is a late bloomer to the drinking scene but quite clever. We seem to make a good team taking turns having a few too many.

Kim S’s But the Bush is Comfortable!
I hear ya about the baby birthday parties being more our style these days than swinging at the club. But yeah, social lubrication makes a big difference in some situations as to how much fun happens. Just look at the dance floor at any dry wedding reception.

Megan’s Straight Edge Girl
The first thing I thought after reading this was “Oh my God, I forgot about mojitos! I love mojitos!” Ahem. Then I realized how it is a big advantage to have time to figure out your relationship with alcohol on your own terms.

Amy’s A Complicated Relationship
You know I’ve never had a tab at a bar. Probably because I feared when it was time to pay up the total would floor me. I’m trying to appreciate food more myself these days so I can see how alcohol helps that. Here’s to putting alcohol in its place!

And my own It’s so good!

As always I had a hard time picking a winner. Everyone did a great job of sharing something personal, and that really means a lot to me. Some were funny, some were touching, some were a little sad. The best one for me, though, was Karal’s since it was a bit of all of them. I laughed out loud over the play on words and I got all verklempt when she talked about disappointing her friend. So Karal is our winner this month and earns a $20 Amazon gift card. (Since I’m way behind on delivering prizes, I’ve decided to keep them simple going forward. I’m sure no one is writing their entries simply for the chance at a prize.)

Thank you all for playing along. Thank you for having as much fun with this as I am. Thank you for reading. Thank you for stepping a bit out of your comfort zones. And thank you for living out loud!

When I was about six months pregnant, my co-worker turned to me very gravely and asked, “do you miss the alcohol?” It was the first time I’d really thought about it. Alcohol hadn’t really registered as a high priority. The hormones in me made food and water take on magical properties. Even a simple glass of water would be the best thing ever! It’s just so wet! And cold! And clear! And refreshing! Vodka could hardly compete with that.

Drinking for me in the beginning was all about the results versus the process. I wasn’t drinking tequila because it was tasty; I was drinking tequila because it leads to table dancing.

I’ve chased a man around his apartment naked. I’ve played a few Truth or Dare games. I’ve smooched quite a few ladies. I walked home once and don’t remember how I got there. I might have even been accused of making a woman gay with my devilish ways. Who knew tequila that looks (and tastes) like window cleaner could be so powerful? Eventually, after some embarrassing incidents with Captain Morgan’s, Zima and Tarantula I learned to seek out alcohol for the taste rather than the consequences.

Wine helped with that. I’ve found myself drinking a glass of cabernet sauvignon for the taste and not the fuzzy-headedness I might get later. I’ve even thought it would be nice to have another glass because it was so tasty but quit because I didn’t want to deal with the inconvenience of being drunk.

Kahlua is so tasty with some warm milk. A mimosa can make Sunday brunch go down much easier and is one of the few times I indulge in orange juice. Once in a blue moon some Captain Morgan’s and Diet Coke makes a party more fun. Dos Equis beer really hits the spot after a hot afternoon mowing the lawn.

I feel like Will Ferrell in Old School declaring “once it hits your lips, it’s so good!” These days, though, I’m more likely to rave about the amazing qualities of water.

Ok, let’s do this.

It’s been so long since I’ve written, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to use this blog. I’m determined to put something into this electronic space before I forget how to write all together. I’m feeling rusty, like my fingers are creaking as I type.

The boy has been advancing in babyhood by leaps and bounds. He laughs, smiles, coos, grabs for everything in reach, plays with little toys, loves his reflection and is rolling over! He’s still sleeping right next to me in bed and I have to say that is one of the best feelings ever to have him that close. I really am going to miss that when he leaves for college.

I’m kidding! I’m sure he’ll be ready for his own bed before his voice changes.

I’ve been steadily recovering these last few weeks. Everyone says that parenthood changes everything, but I was not prepared for the emotional ravaging that would happen after making a person. In addition to adding someone to our household, I also had to reintegrate myself back into the office after being gone for two months. Since previous to this I had never been out of the office longer than a week, we were all adapting to the change.

I don’t get very much done these days. My Google reader is pegged at 1000+ unread items, with little hope in sight for marking all as read. I get up, go to work, come home, do laundry, prep baby bottles, watch NCIS and go to bed. Obviously, I’m not doing much writing and it’s pained me a bit. So I’m going to try making it a priority for myself.

It’s taken me about four hours to write this, but my fingers are feeling a lot more limber than when I started. I’ll get a little more practice this weekend as our lucky #13 Living Out Loud project is due Sunday. And let’s hope I can rally.

Things that would have gotten me down before but totally didn’t phase me today:

• I nursed Ian on my left boob which was hard as a rock. As soon as I put him down on our bed he smiled and spewed milk all over my side of the bed.

• It poured cats and dogs and orangutans this morning on the way to work. I thought we were going to drown getting from the car to day care.

• My blood sugar was inexplicably crazy high this morning (305).

• I got to the house to discover our elder stateshound Sarah had pooped in our office.

• An hour later, Sarah pooped in the kitchen. I think she’s gotten to the age where there’s a fine line between farting and pooping.

• My ex-husband did not friend me on Facebook but friended Rich’s ex-wife.

• Waterproof mattress pads are hard to wash. After pulling it out of the washer it dribbled all over my shoe.

So I’d say the Zoloft is helping. This helps too.

I have laughed and smiled more today than I have all month.

When I had my horrible week back at work away from my son earlier this month, I vowed that I was not just going to take a pill to cope. I was going to do something to make myself happy. I started working from home for part of the week so I could type emails and participate in conference calls while a baby slept on my chest. It was supposed to make things better. I was supposed to feel better.

Except things didn’t really get that much better. I was still sad and stressed and angry. I worried about getting things done. I obsessed about things people said or did. I didn’t eat much. I still cried more that usual.

I came home late Thursday night after visiting my parents and realized we were on our last clean diapers and Ian didn’t have any bottles prepped for the next day. As I prepared everything for morning, I stomped around the house and muttered pissy things to no one in particular. Rich had gone to bed earlier because he didn’t feel so great, but I was just annoyed that he hadn’t thought about what Ian needed. It was a classic case of my being annoyed that he didn’t do something because I shouldn’t have to remind him.

Friday I talked to my therapist Gary. I told him I was sad and mad and generally unhappy with life. I read all these pamphlets on postpartum depression but they didn’t seem to fit. I don’t think I’m a bad mother. I don’t think about doing harm to myself or my baby. I don’t even really cry all the time. I’m just pissed off and anxious.

Gary theorized that the hormones I’m dealing with are making me unable to handle my standard levels of anxiety and obsessive behavior. So while normally I’d be able to blow off something someone said or a minor inconvenience, I’m not letting it go. When I bitched about everything going on he asked what I wanted to make it better. I told him I wanted everyone who’s doing things that piss me off to stop being that way, but that’s impossible because they’ve been this way for years and won’t quit any time soon. Changing every goddamn person on the planet seemed like a daunting task, so it just made me waffle between being sad and mad.

Jeremy’s mom had a great saying of “if you have a problem with everyone in the world, maybe it’s not everyone, maybe it’s just you.” I don’t think she was talking about postpartum hormones when she told Jeremy this, but it seems fitting now too. I’m not able to change everything that upsets me, so I need help making it not upset me so much.

I ended up with a prescription for Zoloft after talking to a tiny little Filipino woman who reminded me of the Oracle from the Matrix. She diagnosed me with “situational adjustment with mixed emotions”. Sounds pretty obvious, really. I’m not depressed. I’m just fretty and have an overactive sense of what’s fair. In all my ranting to Gary I actually quoted Buddha that “life is suffering.” That may be the case, but it doesn’t mean we need to suffer through life.

Half a pill at bedtime and I woke up a new person. Well, actually, I woke up the same old person I used to be. I’ve missed me.