Being dry and being perfect are two different, very different things.
I'm dry not because I'm good.
I'm dry because of the kids.
I'm not what you'd call "good with kids." In other words, I'm no good at scooping up random kids, showering them with kisses, and make them giggle "their heads off." But one on one in an informal (aka no one's watching) environment we can get on well. I have several kids I dearly love and they return it. With the ones I connect with, it's like they view me as another kid but respect me all at the same time. So I get to see the G.I. Joes and dogs and first knives and high heel shoes and earrings and tobacco and boyfriends and... yeah...they show me things and play games like I'm a kid on their level and yet my stamp of approval or disapproval means a bit more than a peer...maybe even just on a subconscious level I love every minute of it. So shhh... don't tell them how old I am. ;)
I used to say I had to abstain from alcohol because it'd kill me. It probably still would just cuz I'm wired unusual like that. But scientifically I can't prove it anymore unless I drank and killed over, which isn't entirely improbable. That's beside the point though. In the latest GF (gluten free) news world, it's now proven that not only wine but hard liquor is "safe" for celiacs. Yeah, you can just go ahead and drink the hard liquor without me. I'd never feel safe swallowing anything that originally came from gluten no matter how "fermented" and "dissipated" the gluten particles may have been proven to be. But since the jury's in on it, I can't use health as a reason anymore.
But that's not why I'm dry. I'm not saint and peer pressure would get to me eventually probably. Maybe not.... but maybe so. Maybe at a party with close friends I respect and love a lot. Maybe if I especially wanted to become one of their close friends. Maybe to avoid being derogatorily called a "goody two shoes" by those few I count my best friends. Because I'm weak like that. And because when it's late and you get a bunch of people together and your mama ain't there to get her heart broke.... maybe a lot of us do a lot of things we wouldn't do otherwise. But it was never the "bunch of people" that got to me. It was when my closest friends, my family in all but blood, the type of people I'd bleed and suffer and die for... when they think something's ok, or they're doing it... that's when I have a tendency to try to rationalize and give in.
But I'd still stay dry probably. Because the motivation is huge. It's like those kids that wear purity rings and can't give in as long as it's staring up at them from their finger.
I stay dry for the kids. For all the ghosts of kids.
It was a big party and everyone was having one too many. Oh, trust me it wasn't bad. No one was drunk, not even tipsy... yet. It was in somebody's house, at 5pm - the sun was still out, and the whole family was involved. I'm a good girl. :p It felt strange being the only "clean" one. I could tell it was making my friend feel bad. Health always makes people feel sorry for you and that's the last thing I wanted. In order not to draw attention to myself, I reached for my favorite "drink" - a vanilla creme soda, a "baby" drink. So? It tastes INCREDIBLE! Yeah, gluten free living keeps your inner kid alive; everything you find something new it's awesome.
It happened to be a very nice, certified GF, organic, vanilla cream soda. Which of course means it comes in a brown glass bottle. Ring any bells? I got it opened and closed my eyes to better savor the first sip. I try to stay off sugar and live healthy so this was a real treat. Besides, did I say I discovered vanilla cream soda less than a year before? Yeah, it was a complete and utter novelty.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing confronting me was a little boy with bright eyes. Bright Eyes and I were good friends. We play together and giggle loudly and climb in tree houses. I'll never forget the next moment.
"You drink too?" There was shock in his eyes, disappointment not concealed in his little quavery voice.
It didn't matter that his parents had it in their hands. Or that everyone besides the two of us would have some before the night was out. It mattered that I had it in my hand.
In sheer shock, I responded that no, I was drinkin'... I hope I comforted him somehow. But the dart was thrown. It pierced us both. For a moment I wasn't who he thought I was.
There's another kid too. A kid I never met. A girl that was my mom. My mom's always been against her family drinking. She doesn't judge anyone. It was just a standard set for her kids as long as we were under her roof. But she doesn't say it like another rule. It's come out a couple times that at family events people would get drunk... that there were friends... that's she's seen enough of the block to know and understand. And once, just once, it came out that one of her uncle's would get drunk and hit on her a few times. That there was something in his eyes when he'd look at her body...
I don't judge others who drink. I've had enough friends argue that the Bible speaks against drunkenness not drinking that I won't touch the subject with a ten foot pole. Who argue that they're sure they have enough self control to never go over the proper amount, whatever that is. Who argue that you can overcome a family background, gene pull and all, with the proper amount of self control. And to some extent I admire people that can actually deny genetics, deny culture, deny a proven addicting substance and succeed. A hearty round of applause to you! (No, I'm not being sarcastic at all. I hate sarcasm mixed with serious... unless you're whole serious essay is presented from the sarcastic viewpoint.)
It took me awhile to come to my decision, because quite honestly some of those arguments have been presented to me well and logically from very close friends. For myself, I choose to stay dry for the kids who seem to pop out of the woodwork.... the ones that peer over banisters and walk by innocently at just the wrong time and just happen to be standing there when so and so just happens to get drunk.
I don't drink because of the kids.
Because no six year old boy peering over the banister unnoticed should see his mom walk in a crooked line while popping risque, albeit mild, jokes.
Because no sixteen year old girl should be hit on by a family member she loves surrounded other family members.
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