Fridays Are Really Hard {ADR Old School}

I originally wrote this post on March 3, 2012. My Year Without Wine began last January 16, but in early March I hadn't yet announced it here. I re-read these words now and realize where I was once and how far I have come. Fridays can still feel hard of course, but not like they used to. Maybe because I am no longer escaping them? Anyway, as my year quickly comes to an end (Next Wednesday! 5 days!), I find myself very thoughtful about the past eleven-plus months, and genuinely, deeply grateful that I decided to do this. And that I have had your eyes and hearts and words along the way. Thank you.

march 3, 2012.

Fridays.

On Fridays, the kids are extra tired. It makes sense. On Fridays, I am extra tired too.

When they are tired, they cling more and whine more and cry more. When they are tired, they are less reasonable and more clumsy. Again, all of this makes sense.

I used to have help from my nanny on Fridays. I also used to have friends over in the afternoon to drink buckets of wine.

Now. I have given my nanny the day off as I would rather have her help on Wednesdays so that I can have four consecutive days to dig into my writing. Now. I do not have a gaggle of girls over to drink wine because many of these girls have moved away from the city and also because, well, I am not drinking.

So. Fridays have been different recently. And they have also been hard.

My oldest girl has a best friend, a wonderful best friend whom I adore. These little girls bring out the absolute best in each other. They are both creative and kind. My girl is more reserved and her friend more bold, but I glimpse them meeting in the middle. I see my girl gaining gusto; I see her friend slipping into a rich sensitivity. All wonderful to witness.

Anyway. This girl and her mom come over most Fridays. And this is not just a mom. She has quickly become one of my very best friends. She is a writer, too. She is a thinker, too. She is a worrier, too. And we sit as our girls play and we talk and talk. She was one of the first people to know about this project of mine and she has been supportive and inquisitive and lovely. I have told her more – more of the hard stuff – than almost anyone.

And yesterday? It was hard. The girls were testing me. I spent a lot of time on the hardwood floor negotiating and soothing. And you know what? I really really wanted a glass of wine. Or a bottle of wine.

After she and her kid went home, I emailed her and told her this. And she wrote back the most exquisitely thoughtful email. I am going to ask her if I can print parts of that email here because it really was that wonderful.

And I made it through. I made it through the muddle without having that glass or bottle of wine. I made it through because it turns out that I am strong, getting even stronger. I made it through because I have support, beautiful support.