Letters to the Editor
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Heres to having a drink at the end of a long day.
Cheers.
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that book
The book is "The Three Martini Play Date", not lunch date. It's a cute book, but not one to be taken too seriously.
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What is wrong with The New York Times?
I freaking hate these stories.
It takes a special talent for a news article to be both irrelevant, insipid, and insulting all at the same time.
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Obligatory /. response
I, for one, welcome our tipsy MILF overlords.
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The Invisible Elephant In The Room
Why is a visit by a mother (or father) with their children to another house that also has children a "play date"? Is the social life of parents so incidental these days?
Nobody's supporting drunkening sessions in front of the kids, but cracking open a bottle of wine or champagne for your adult guests does not mean you've turned your home into an opium den.
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Ugh, glad you brought this article up.
Did anyone notice the idiotic photo of a wide-eyed child peering over the edge of a table that had a glass of wine on it looming in the foreground? It made it look as though the kid was scarred by what he had seen. My parents and their friends drank in front of me all the time and my sisters and I turned out just fine. As did many children raised in different cultures and eras that did not operate in an environment of near-hysteria.
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Thanks heyref
We'll fix the title.
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Nothing new
There is nothing new under the sun. I remember in my childhood in West Texas, my mom and her girlfriends would get together, mix some margaritas, turn the kids loose to play with the tumbleweeds and lizards in backyard, and then sit around playing craps (these were not your typical southern belles). It's not just suburban moms doing it either. We were just barely lower-middle class.
They weren't drunk, just loosening up and complaining about the dads and having some fun. Although, it was easier to sneak candy or other contraband past them, probably because they were focused on their game and mixing drinks. I don't have kids yet, but will probably do the same thing. After work, and picking kids up from school, we'll all just sit and relax with our favorite mixed drink or a brew, while our brood wrestles in the backyard and complain that Cindy's mud pie was stomped by Billy.
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Stupid, stupid
stupid story! What is with these people?
I recall countless neighborhood barbecues, family picnics, etc where parents drank wine, beer or even "cocktails". For some reason, no one became an alcoholic, got into brawls, or nabbed for DUI. I guess my parents and their friends were able to figure out that moderate alcohol consumption is something adults can do, every aspect of their lives did not have to revolve around us kids.
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Cocktails and Parenting
are like chocolate and peanut butter. Sure you can do one without the other, but it really is so much improved when they are done together.
These are not mothers who are driving their kids while blowing scary blood acohol levels. These are not mothers who are so hungover in the morning that they can't get up to send little Suzy off to school with her all organic free-range lunch. These are not mothers who show up to PTA meetings with smeared lipstick and vodka breath.
Being a hell of a party throwing MILF myself, I say bring on the vodka tonics and the toddlers.
Cheers!
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the real surprise
makes me think of a great line in the Karen Karbo novel, Motherhood Made a Man out of Me....something along the lines of: the real surprise is that bars aren't filled to capacity with mothers, since lord knows few people need a drink more than they do.
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Broadsheet: fem-hacktacular reportage
yet another pink-fringed blog post about the least-pressing issues of the day, shoehorned inside a feminist frame.
for the umpteenth time, Broadsheet reports on a trumped up kerfuffle relating to gender/parenting, even acknowledging that this story is a "tempest in a 'tini glass."
and then you plow on, decrying the moralizing and finger-pointing heaped upon Mothers Who Drink.
honestly, why doesn't the BSheet staff just invest in hand mirrors, candles, flashlights and some Sweet Honey in the Rock cds?
maybe you'l discover some deep hidden truths if you just stare harder at your own cervices and give your well-watched navels a rest.
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Mothers are enjoying themselves?
Looks like time for another intervention, guys. Somebody call the cops just in case we need backup.
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The real problem
is that when it comes to reporting about motherhood, the New York Times is obsessed w/ one particular demographic - a demographic that already thinks the world revolves around itself. And my, with articles like this, it shows.
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Uh huh
I bet a lot of adults, including those who would object to the wine, as children played with their little friends while the mothers chain-smoked in the same room.
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Count me in!
As the mother of two kids, I'm all for it. There's nothing worse than playdates with doting competitive moms who manage to make you feel like crap if you're not all gooey-eyed over the wonders of parenting and your little genius isn't off the academic/social/athletic charts.
I started going to playdates, full of my usual need to complain and connect with fun, edgy women, who had something sharp, biting, and incisive to say; and instead I would feel like I'd stumbled upon a den of Stepford Wives.
Yes, wine and cocktails in moderation. How about some intelligent discussion while we're at it? A book club/playdate? Modern motherhood is so damned isolating, and sometimes it feels like your brain is on a slow decay while you're devoting yourself to your children.
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Since when is a drink traumatic?
I personally resent the cultural assumption that the presence of alcohol is ipso facto a problem and a danger for the children.
But then I am Italian.
When I was growing up, the adults ALWAYS had wine with dinner and cocktails in the evening.
And guess what? My grandmother would pour about a teaspoon of wine into a pretty glass for me, filling the glass the rest of the way with water so that it was just slightly pink. That was my glass of wine-- at age five! OMIGOD!! ABUSE!! TrAuMa!! CALL THE POLICE!!
Give me a break. Growing up this way is one of the reasons I drink wine responsibly and elegantly instead of getting hammered and ending up face down in the heather like so many of my peers. I was taught. Deal.