A letter to a friend I had to share..

So I got a lovely tidbit in my email today from Belle, and hearing her voice this morning really spoke to me.. She said lovingly I t’s time to grow a pair of “balls”.. And this is so me and after my half super fab and half super trying day yesterday, I thought Woah.. Yes.. Balls set boundaries with a voice that means it.. I was called a bitch by a stranger and had to watch Husbs get drunk and end up leaving at an odd time.. I wanted to share my letter to Belle.. More for my records for another time…
Xo Lex

HAPPY SOBER YOU CAN KISS MY ASS SUNDAY!!! I heard your message right away this morning and I felt like you may have meant this for me.. After a busy day of kiddos dance class, school picnic (remember sober sober bitch mom in the bathroom?) and maj house cleaning for my presh bday bash today.. The night took an early turn when Mr. Decided to take on a tad of the Wolfie… He brought home his almighty jug of Vodka along with party fixings and my sober mock tail of bubbly h2o and cran… I felt sick.. He cracked that thing at 4 and processed to make ginormous cocktails for the remainder of the afternoon… A few times, and I mean seconds I thought of throwing a shot in my glass.. But quickly threw that shit to the curb.. Anyway, once bebe bed time came around he was nice and wahasted, and came up with a Great Idea! To grab a babysitter at 9 pm mind you and head to a local church festival (which in Milwaukee consists of drinking for Jesus and Gambling for God) …
He looking at me all kookoo eyed was so fucking serious, me braless and completely proud of my shitty day gone sober was like… Ah, kiss my ass.. I am not doing this.. I’m not drinking, I’m not drinking and driving, I’m not driving a drunk you around, and I will not be going anywhere where a whole bunch of people you knew 25 years ago are drinking.. Peace!
He tried pulling a few tricks out of his pocket, guilt, meanness, begging.. Didn’t work.. I said go.. It’s not for me..
When he left I shed a tear, not sure if it were for me or my daughters 3rd birthday or because my heart hurt for him, or because I realized I have defeated the Wolfie… The one in my head and my home…
Not sure if I have grown my proverbial balls.. But I prefer maybe my proverbial Sober Mama Queen Crown…
Happy Sober Sunday! Cheers to 3 year old mermaid parties and Mommys non hing and completely sober…

Sent from a special place in time..

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