Coffee, Wine, Bourbon and the Three-Day Weekend

I had a friend over for dinner a few nights ago and realized I don’t have much to offer guests in the way of beverages. I remember saying, “Pretty much all I drink is coffee, wine and bourbon.”

I do occasionally make a morning smoothie with protein powder and kefir and frozen fruit, because I need the kefir for my wonky digestive system, but I think it’s gross tasting, and it hides well in the smoothie. Plus I generally don’t eat breakfast except on the weekends, so it’s a convenient, quick breakfasty kind of thing for me during the week, otherwise I don’t eat anything until I get hungry around 10:30 or so.

Outside of the smoothie though, my life is a cycle of coffee, wine, and bourbon. I drink a lot of water; a lot more than most people, which again is because of my wonky digestive system – I get dehydrated a lot more quickly than most people, especially if I’m drinking something drying (like coffee or alcohol) or exercising (which I try to do at least 5 days a week). I don’t drink diet anything, I think that shit is poison and gross tasting to boot. And I can’t really handle carbonation anymore at all, so beer, soda pop and sparkling water are all out. I finally figured this out last summer when I bought a couple cases of those Izzy drinks for my son’s birthday party, and I had some leftover and would drink one occasionally. Every time, I’d get a stomach ache. I had the same problem when I would have a Dr. Brown’s soda, one of the few pops I ever bought because of course it has sugar and not corn syrup. I can drink stuff like juice and lemonade, but I really don’t see the point to drinking calories like that when I’d rather save the calorie allotment for a couple of glasses of wine.

I have a three-day weekend coming up as D’s school is closed on Monday for MLK day so I took Monday off. We will cover some stuff about Dr. King at home. My son is at an age (5) where he doesn’t really understand things like racism (which I’m happy about), and I work to try to slowly educate him about what the world is really like while trying hard not to make him jaded, freaked out or confused. I wonder what it would be like to approach this topic if me and my son were African-American. Totally different perspective, totally different conversation. “Some people don’t like people who are different” vs. “Some people don’t like PEOPLE LIKE US.” It sucks that I have to have this conversation at ALL with my boy, because our stupid country is moving backwards, not forwards on this front, but it probably sucks more for the black parents.

When D was in preschool, he was best friends for a while with a little African-American boy; the son of some big deal football player here in town (which I didn’t know for a long time, not really into sportsball). When his Dad got a job with another team, D actually cried because it was friend’s last day at school, and even though he was little, he understood he was leaving and he wouldn’t see him anymore because he was moving far away. I asked him the other day if he remembered this boy, as we were reminiscing about some kids he missed from preschool. He has no memory of him and kept asking me for a picture of him. Luckily since his Dad is a famous football player, I was able to find a picture of him and his son on the internet, and I showed D, and then he remembered. Later that day he told me, completely spontaneously, “Mom, just because you don’t see someone anymore, you can always remember them in your heart.” Which is probably some platitude they told him at preschool, but it made me “aw” pretty hard.


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