CONFESSIONS OF A SOBER MAMA

By Victoria Vanstone

I heard the baby crying again. I didn’t get up. I stayed, hiding in my bedroom. He needed me, but I couldn’t do it. I was too hungover. Again.

I don’t remember getting home. The last thing I recall was seeing both my hands outstretched in front of me clutching two huge jugs of Sangria. The red liquid was lapping over the sides as I declared triumphantly, “It’s two for one!” to my wasted, smiling friends.

My life had always been one big party. A social drinker extraordinaire. A binger that never drank alone and…