Mulled wine and mayhem

I had my first indulgent mulled wine of the season today. I say indulgent because I very consciously distracted the boy with Hey Duggee on the Kindle Fire and a plate of breadsticks and jelly so that I could really enjoy my festive treat. Totally worth it. My (childless) friends didn’t judge me – I do tend to find it is other parents who judge the most – and I didn’t even feel guilty when he started flinging the jelly around shouting “wobble, wobble”. And that, like the mulled wine itself, is also a first for me. Normally I am petrified that he might disturb anyone; I sit on edge, my stomach in knots, waiting for the inevitable comments about my unruly/unhealthy kid or my laughably poor parenting. It happens often and I am still upset by it. I haven’t attained the Zen level of motherhood yet where I can just say bollocks, this is how I raise my child. But, and admittedly the wine may have helped, today was a step in the Zen direction. And the world didn’t implode.


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