Let’s Be Wine Moms

Sis, you know a lil vodka in white white IS THE BEST mixer!

I’m the twins, Napa and Sonoma.

I'm live, laugh, love

Madysin just got head cheerleader, and Koltyn is the star quarterback! But I found a pair of high heels in Koltyn’s closet… should I be worried?

I’m the “book club” that’s just a front for day drinking.

I'm the Wine Mom rushing to her weekly lunchtime hookup in an Airbnb with a young horse-hung Afro-Caribbean Dutch Mercedes-Benz service tech.

I'm her social acquaintance Life Coach Mom who got sober. I know all about Wine Mom because I, too, walked her path and now I'm FREE. I'm judgment dressed up as UPBEAT!

I keep pestering Wine Mom to come see me for a "free intro session" wherein I will offer to Unlock The Promise Of Wine Mom's Full Life Potential.

"I am right there with you gals!" [hic!]

[quote] I’m the “If You Can’t Handle Me at My Worst, You Don’t Deserve Me at My Best” sign.

I want a sign like that.

I'm the bottles hidden in the back of the bedroom closet.

I'm the outrage and disdain over people using DRUGS!, of all things, right out in public.

I’m the late 40s cancer diagnosis lurking for a bit.

I’m the discarded liquor store receipt, left on the kitchen counter.

I show only the most expensive vintages of wines— which she drinks like water. Alone.

This will infuriate her unemployed husband once he finds me because she maxed out his last credit card.

I’m a “dump cake”. I was invented by a wine mom who needed to make something for the PTA bake sale, but was already into her second box of Franzia

I’m the happy family vacation photos on social media even though we were all bickering and fighting before the photos were taken.

I’m the huge Stanley mug that shall not be touched until this car reaches Irving Park Road around 3pm. The whole carload takes a drink because they survived the highway. Of course, the kids get their own beverages! This road is deadly all the time…

I’m in much better shape than the Tahoe - never travels more than five miles round trip and has dimples on every surface.

I’m the thin and cracked veneer of moral superiority that I use as a weapon against the lesser wine moms in my clique.

I’m the 40 oz wine glass that looks like a fishbowl with a stem.

I’m the Aunt Diane that lies in all of us.

The Dickmatization Tour

Really, she sounds desperate with these lyrics.

^^ oops, that was for the Taylor thread

❤️🦄 💕 🐨 🤗 ❤️❤️❤️👍🏼👍🏼 ‼️ Im Wnie Moms texts when she’s in her cups LOVE YOU SO MCUH 😍 ❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😍😍😍😍😍😍🎃😘😘😘😘😘😘🦜💐💐💐💐🌺🌸🌼🌸🌺⭐️⭐️‼️

I'm the years of therapy the children are going to need when they're older, coming to terms with the psychological damage done being raised by an alcoholic parent.

I am the bottles that were hidden while she was blackout drunk three months ago. She'll never find us now.

Wanna bet, R24?

Actual sign in my brother’s girlfriend’s powder room:

BATHROOM RULES

If you are finished, flush it.

If it runs out, replace it.

If you lift it up, put it down,

If you miss it, wipe it. If it smells, spray it.

LADIES

Please remain seated for the whole performance

GENTLEMEN

Please stand closer; it may be shorter than you think

A sign in the laundry room that says “LAUNDRY.”

Lying in bed all day with a box of Berringer on the nightstand, watching crime shows continuously.

I’m the Swanson TV dinners the kids have to heat up themselves.

I'm the confused person who honestly believed Wine Moms were only a myth.

We're huge gay allies: we watch all the gay guys on Bravo and HGTV and are familiar with the lingo on Ru Paul's Drag Race. That is, when we are not signing petitions to remove any gay/trans content from the library of our kids' school.

I'm the blonde divorced Merlot lover who sells real estate on the side.

I’m the backhanded compliments at brunch.

“For someone of your size, you carry it SO well!”

I'm the twice divorced busty 40 something who is getting fucked by her 20-something trainer

I’m cherished daughter Khlamydia’s stockpiled Ritalin prescription in a Tupperware container under the you don’t have to be mad to live here…. But it helps, plaques.

I’m the cat forts made from Amazon boxes. The specks of blood aren’t the result of cat scratches. Wine Mom isn’t handy with a box cutter.

I'm the Sunday morning hangover at soccer, disguised by enormous sunglasses and a 40-oz Stanley of iced pumpkin latte.

I'm the gummies used to enhance the buzz!

6PM: “Oh I’m not really a drinker. Maybe just a sip of something light…

7PM: “You’re ALL gonna lishen’ a me gooooood! You underSHTAND ME?!…No I WON’T sit down!!

I'm the youthful flush in the morning that looks like rosacea

I’m the cutesy decorated nails (ladybugs, jewels, etc)

I have never heard of this phenomenon until this thread.

Damn now I'm temped to go out and get a bottle for the evening. And I'm not even a mom

R43, spend a little more for a good Bordeaux.

I’m the tongue and teeth turning a purple hue as the morning rolls merrily along into afternoon.

I'm Rae fucking Dunn and I have written on every wine glass, mug and any other flat surface. I'm very trendy at this house.

I am the wreath made of this summer's corks and festooned with fake autumn foliage and strands of wheat. I am hung on the patio door, crooked.

I am the purple-stained lips the next morning that you can't scrub off - it's like it's been permanently tattooed on, and scrubbing with toothpaste doesn't help either.

You make a decision that wine-guzzling alcoholics often make as their disease progresses: even though you prefer red wine, you will drink only white going forward to avoid this happening again in the future.

I'm your dentist trying to whiten your teeth.

I’m the cemetery where I can drink and cry in peace.

I’m Pinot Greezh

I am wine o’clock!

I’m the kitchen dance party featuring primarily Taylor Swift, Shania Twain, and for some edge, Drake.

Let’s go girls!