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Confessions of a teetotal mama

I may have mentioned this before 😉 but, having put on a hefty 2 and a half stone while pregnant with Gwenn, I have only lost 1 stone in a year. I put this down very much to the fact I have made no effort. It’s not like I’m killing myself to shed the pounds but not getting anywhere, so at least I can take some comfort in that!

I am very aware of my danger zones. Boredom, monotony (sorry Gwenn, but it’s true), lack of sleep, the usual. Up until very recently G was getting up between 4-5 am every morning but I was still going to bed “normal” time. Well I’m sorry, but being up that long every day entitles one to an extra meal at the very least, surely?!?!

I also eat a lot of Gwenn’s leftovers as she is very contrary when it comes to what food she will eat from one day to the next.

And I love chocolate. LOVE it. Chocolate is my wine, for I am (hate this word) teetotal.

For me, the word teetotal conjures up images of past problems with alcohol and a fear of going back “there”. I don’t drink alcohol out of choice because it does not interest me in the slightest. I used to, when I was younger, because it is funny to be drunk when you’re 17 and I also was (still am really) frighteningly shy and awkward and to have any hope of enjoying any social situation I had to drink.

But I have never drank alcohol at home, like in the evening while watching TV or with dinner. Plus, I don’t like the taste of most alcoholic drinks, other than cider which is SO good and I probably feel about cider the way I felt about cocktail sausages when I was younger and didn’t eat meat!

Now I can only guess here, because there was no line drawn in the sand, but in roughly four years since deciding I wasn’t going to drink anymore, I have had one glass of champagne the morning after my wedding: half a glass of champagne the following day; and half a glass of Buck’s Fizz at a friends’ wedding (when I was 14 weeks pregnant – talk about picking my moments!).

Being pregnant for 39 weeks and 2 days then breastfeeding for 40 weeks was zero hardship for me in terms of missing the odd tipple here and there. Two days after I found out I was in the family way I went to my lovely friend’s big day and the fact I wasn’t drinking raised no eyebrows whatsoever because I never do.

I know that people find it odd that I don’t have any interest in alcohol. I was equally taken back at how many people I know struggled with the whole Dry January thing because, as a non-drinker, I hadn’t really appreciated the part that alcohol plays in the (almost) day-to-day life of most of my friends and family. But I have no problem with people who drink alcohol. I don’t have any issue with people drinking around me. Although I admit I cannot stand being around drunk people, but I think anybody who has been the one sober person in a room in which everyone else is well away will totally understand where I’m coming from.

Maybe the fact that I have consumed alcohol even on an incredibly limited scale means that I can’t call myself teetotal but saying I’m teetotal is much easier than saying “Well, I don’t drink alcohol but it’s not like I can’t drink it and I suppose I have had some alcohol …” and so forth. Andrew has only slightly more interest in it than me and he probably has the equivalent of two bottles of lager a month, if that, so we are perfectly suited in this respect.

But anyway, the point of this whole thing is that the fact I don’t drink alcohol means I will never be one of those people who say “Well I just cut out the red with dinner and the weight just felloff”. Cutting out alcohol seems like such an easy way of getting a quick fix. In all the “Get your Summer body HERE” articles in magazines it’s always something along the lines of “Ditch that cheeky after work cocktail”. Well, that and “Get off the bus one stop earlier”! But this avenue is not open to me (the alcohol bit, not the bus) and there’s no one area of my food intake that I can easily jettison. I suppose I could say to myself “Stop eating so much shit” – that would probably do the trick – but if I don’t eat chocolate, white bread, biscuits, grated cheese out of the packet, handfuls of blueberry wheats every five minutes etc etc, then what pleasure will I have in life?

Would I have to turn to gin just to get through the day?!?!

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