A new year’s lesson on self-care in sobriety — “Mommy, I don’t feel good.” My daughter sat down on the arm of the couch next to me with wet eyes and shaky lips. I smoothed her dark hair behind her ear and whispered soft questions. Do you feel sick? Are you not having fun? …

The unexpected gift of my first sober Christmas. — I still have the Christmas card my dad gave me 25 years ago with a colorized photo of the Beverly Hillbillies on the front. Granny is holding a jug of moonshine and saying, “Last one blitzed ain’t tryin’!” In his slanted cursive, my dad added, “I’ve got my jug and…

Booze gets credit for the slapstick and the pratfalls, but I get to be the heroine in the rewrite. — Chapter 1: The Fizz Bang My friend, Anna, pulled up to my house in her tricked-out, 1965 Mustang with enough booze in the trunk for a Risky Business remake. It was her ticket to being voted most popular in our small high school. It was also her get out of jail free card. Everyone knew…

Sweating and worried, I buckled up, closed my eyes, and faced my fear with gratitude. — Heat rushed to my hands as sweat started to drip from my palms down the armrests of seat 47C. I’m an aisle girl. A window seat just means being distracted from focusing on your own death. Who needs a lush view of perfectly manicured clover crops and tiny, puffy sheep…

Drinking robbed me of my ability to truly see and feel my children — I remember when I asked my very pregnant friend, Molly, if she was going to take drugs during her delivery. She balked: “Are you kidding? Of course I am! Would you have open heart surgery without anesthetic just to say you could? Who would do that?” At the time, Molly…

Feeding my babies and feeding myself — “Mom, if you want me to learn how to cook, stop making me chop vegetables!” “But chopping is part of cooking. You just don’t want to help me make dinner.” “I do want to help. But you need to teach me how to cook the dinner instead of just giving…

Feeling all like teenagery, but brave — Yesterday, my 16-year-old son was gearing up for a bike ride with his friend, Charlie. Charlie was waiting in the driveway while my son quickly shoved his phone and wallet in his backpack. Meanwhile, my daughter, 13, was taunting him about texting a girl and even tickled his neck while…