Day 56, and it's #2's birthday!
The rule in the SoberMummy house is that, when it's your birthday, you get to design your perfect day.
#2 is a creature of habit. He knows what he likes. So there were no surprises. Today's schedule involved starting with the grand present ritual, moving onto a day at Legoland, and ending up with steak frites and chocolate fondant at his favourite restaurant. Exactly the same as last year. And the year before.
The grand present ritual starts when the birthday person wakes up (usually around 7am). They then wake everyone else up, and everyone piles into Mr and Mrs SoberMummy's bed (including the terrier). The birthday person then has to find all the presents hidden around the room (warmer....warmer...colder....boiling hot!) and open them (to lots of oohs and ahhs).
Whilst today was ostensibly the same as the last two years, it was also completely different.
For a start, I didn't have to feign enthusiasm when an overexcited small person jumped on my head at 7am. I woke up, on a Sunday morning, after a Saturday night, just as excited that morning had arrived as he was.
Once we'd littered the bedroom with wrapping paper and managed to get everyone dressed and ready, we set off for Legoland.
Now, when I was #2's age, I loved theme parks. My idea of a perfect day out was charging around the roller coasters, dodgems, water slides and so on. But I grew out of all that years ago. I thought everyone did. On the last few visits to Legoland (and the like), I would plaster a grin to my face and hope no-one could tell that I'd much rather be at home in my favourite armchair with the Sunday papers and a large glass of wine.
But today - bizarrely, and totally unexpectedly, I rediscovered my sense of wonder. I sat with the children, park maps spread out, planning what we would do first, then next, then after that. I went down the water shoot 3 times - happily. I queued patiently. I went up and down and upside down, and had a blast.
It stuck me as totally ironic that we alcohol addicts end up emotionally immature, and yet prematurely jaded. And in giving up the booze I am simultaneously growing up and finding my inner child.
So whilst I am, in a myriad of ways, terrified of the 'never agains', there are some 'never agains' that I embrace wholeheartedly. For example:
1. Never again will I feel guilty because I cannot match my child's excitement at 7am on their birthday.
2. Never again will I have to cope with a theme park or a soft play centre with a hangover.
3. Never again will I waste days of my precious life wishing I was somewhere else.
Happy birthday #2, and lots of love to all of you.
Related post: Sundays: hair of the dog, Discovering mindfulness