Tag Archives: Alcohol

When Parenting Overwhelm Makes Sobriety Feel Hard

Posted on by
Reply

Sometimes the hardest part of parenting isn’t the moment. It’s managing your own overwhelm when all you want to do is escape.

Last week, mine had me reaching for a glass of scotch after 450+ days sober. That’s when I knew just how overwhelmed I really was. Two of the three boys were hangry, hangry teenagers. I couldn’t breathe right. I couldn’t blink right. I couldn’t be anything… right. And yes, they are good kids having human moments.

I mean, I get hangry too and um my mood swings are fun at times. This said, I’ve parented from this philosophy for years: De-escalate, don’t elevate.

Don’t elevate emotions.
Don’t elevate tension.

Which also means: de-escalate, don’t evaluate.

Trying to assess what is actually going on, trying to figure out how to help them when they are amped up? Useless. Not gonna work.
Trying to “teach” them how to do better next time when they are amped? Also not gonna work. That will definitely just escalate.

I mean, try telling me how to better handle my emotions during a sudden moment of hormonal rage. Ask me how well I will listen and take in your lesson plan. Amirite?

So when they were stomping around the kitchen, nitpicking at each other, complaining about my meal (the one I was so excited to have made them) and my efforts to de-escalate were not working…

And I realized I was getting frustrated and starting to make things worse, so I left the room. I needed a break. Leaving the room was easy.

“I will not be treated this way.” Turn and walk away. Easy.

The hard part? I still felt all the overwhelm.
The sadness that we weren’t having a family dinner over a meal I thought they would love. The letdown. The clearly other emotions about other stuff I apparently wasn’t aware of.

On the way to the safety of my couch, I saw my fiancé’s glass of scotch. I guess I was bottling up more stress than I realized. I picked it up without hesitation.

What’s one sip? That doesn’t destroy my 450+ days of not drinking, right?

I immediately spit it out, poured the drink down the drain, and the tears fell. Dammit. Parenting is exhausting. I love my kids and still, it’s exhausting. They are human, they act human, and so I give them grace and still, it’s exhausting.

This happened last week. It had been a hard week. As I sat curled up on the couch, crying, letting all the stress out, I decided I needed to change clothes. I needed cozy. I needed to regulate myself so I could handle them better. So I could ooze out more comforting, chill vibes. Sweatshirt and sweatpants on, I returned to the kitchen.

They had fizzled out, thank goodness. One had left. The remaining one apologized, thanked me for going out of my way to make his favorite dinner and get cookies. The other one appeared shortly thereafter and said thank you for the cookies too. (Lol, not dinner. I knew it would be hit or miss with him.)

Walking away was the right thing.
Spitting out the scotch was the right thing.
Neither was easy.

Naturally, I decided to take a picture. The one who hadn’t lost his shite with me saw the glass. “MOM! What are you doing? Put that down! You aren’t drinking.” Oh bless my heart. He was so worried I had taken a drink. That moment made spitting out the scotch, made deciding to be sober, worth it. One of the reasons I’ve chosen to be sober is to show my kids that life is okay without alcohol; that it is not needed to numb during hard times.

My son witnessed it in action. May he remember this. And may I keep remembering that I can do it because honestly? Seeing how quickly I wanted to numb when parenting hurt so badly… when I hurt so much… even after 450+ days? That’s why I personally have chosen to be sober. I know I need to be.

Sending my warmth and a little extra oomph to you all today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

You Don’t Need Alcohol to Be Fun: What My Kids Taught Me

Posted on by
Reply

Someone once told me I wasn’t fun and needed to take the pole out of my ass or drink more. True story. Someone I trusted too. I think my sons would say otherwise. Actually, I know they would. I went to pick up my college kiddo at the airport this week. It was perfect timing. No traffic. No cops. Plenty of room to sit curbside and wait. That was the plan until… I saw my son walk out of the airport. I did what any totally normal mother would do.

I turned off the car, jumped out, and ran full speed toward my son, jumping up and down, waving my arms and yelling: “JAMES! JAMES! IT’S YOUR MOM!!! OVER HERE!!!” To be clear…he already knew where I was. He briefly tried walking away like he didn’t know me.

But eventually he turned around with the biggest grin. “Hi, Mom.” “HI KIDDO! I missed you!” “I missed you too. But please don’t ever do that again.” “Yeah, no promises.” “Okay, fine.” And then I got a hug. Honestly? I’ve been wanting to do that ever since seeing people impersonate Will Ferrell’s Elf character running around yelling names. Good news: I still have three other sons to embarrass in the future.

And that wasn’t even the funniest part of the week. Before my college kid came home, one of the younger boys said, “Oh man…James is screwed. He’s not going to understand the new dinner rule.” (Back in January we started eating dinner at the table instead of the counter.) “You know what?” I told the younger three. “You guys should totally play it up. Shower. Collared shirts. Perfect manners.” Zero pushback. 100% commitment.

The night my college kiddo came home… Three brothers showed up to dinner showered, hair done, collared shirts and khakis. Dead serious faces. I, however, struggled. It was just too much. (My boys? Fully, fully listening to plans?! What was happening?!) “We don’t just eat at the table now,” they told him. “We dress up. You need to too.” So off he went…to quickly shower and change. He came downstairs, saw one brother vacuuming and said, “What is happening here???” “Oh yeah,” they said.

“We also do chores while Mom cooks.” The perplexed look on his face? Pure awesomeness. We finally sat down at the table. Mid meal my son goes, “This is so weird. This family feels…normal.” I couldn’t hold it together anymore. I told him the dress code was a joke. He laughed. He loved it. And even took a family picture after dinner. No hard feelings. I’ll treasure it always. All boys, dressed up, laughing, and home in the same room again. Acting like young men. It was weird;) And priceless.

Turns out you don’t need alcohol or a personality transplant to have fun. Who knew? Sometimes all you need is an airport, a ridiculous idea, and four boys willing to commit to the bit. Tell me I’m not the only parent who embarrasses their kids in public. Happy Monday everyone.

Sending my warmth and a little oomph to you today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Why a Longer Morning Routine Actually Helps My ADHD Brain

Posted on by
Reply

I have an unconventional opinion to share. The last time I shared something similar I got destroyed. I was so misunderstood. I strongly dislike being misunderstood. It just reflects my entire childhood as a neurodivergent, sensory processing struggle, emotional kiddo.

So all that to say, I really hope this makes sense;) If it does, I think you will greatly appreciate it. I know I felt like a lightbulb went off when I realized it! For whatever reason, I decided to make my morning routine longer. No idea what moved me but alas, I now wash my face first thing in the morning. I can proudly say it is now officially a habit.

This is big for me. This isn’t a “skincare is self-care” post, fear not. It’s deeper than that — kinda like the massive pimple growing dead center on my chin right now. It’s about setting myself up to feel better in my day. More at ease. More capable. Less braced for impact. I wasn’t raised doing face care routines (or even makeup for that matter.) I’m learning a lot as I grow up;) Before? Maybe I washed it in the shower every couple of days, but only because I had the best cleanser ever thanks to my best friend who works in face care.

The product has microbeads in it or whatever and just feels good to use. #skinceuticals But I never made it a habit. Something changed though when 2026 rolled in. I decided it needed to be a habit.

Maybe because pimples have decided to appear again and one of you lovely readers told me to make sure I washed my face morning and night. I wasn’t. Thank you!

Maybe because I’m making a conscious effort to actually get dressed in a non-workout outfit, do my hair and put some makeup on everyday and so I now have makeup to wash off. (Love this action by the way. totally makes me more alert, more productive, and more confident. It just does wonders for my mood and energy. 10/10 recommend.)

Maybe it’s because I have skin cancer on my face and I have to make sure I am putting on my daily moisturizer with sun protection.

Whatever the reason, I am now a girl who washes her face morning and night, adds her moisturizes and whatnot and I LOVE IT. I have a face care routine for the first time ever. Yes, I am 48. I love it not for the reasons one might think.

Yes it is nice to have skin that feels and looks better. Yes it is nice to not add to the bags under my eyes with smeared mascara. Yes it is nice to know I am doing a better job warding off skin cancer.

But more so? It is so nice to slow down for a couple of minutes twice a day. I love the feeling of the warm washcloth. I just hold it on my face like they do during facials. I just relax for a few minutes. It is only a few minutes but it is a few minutes more than I used to.

So often I complain about not having enough down time. Quiet time. Time to myself. I realized that having a skin care routine is giving me that. Would l love to have more and longer chunks of time to myself? Of course. I am not saying I don’t deserve that. I do. You do. We all do.

What I realized though is that there are so many opportunities throughout the day to really soak up the micro-micro-breaks that already exist. They are better than nothing and when enjoyed, they expand. And when they expand, the rest of the day feels better. The minutes add up and add to the longer chunks. They do count. I just have to be present and willing to see their restorative upside.

Driving in the car as a chauffeur. Easy to complain…or to enjoy the few minutes of my own music while I dance in the car.

Washing the dishes. Easy to complain…or to enjoy the smell of the soap.

Folding the laundry. Easy to complain…or to enjoy the solitude or the feeling of getting something done.

Not drinking alcohol. Easy to complain…or to enjoy that I am still sitting, relaxing, having something that tastes good.

Micro-micro moments to absorb and enjoy and see as more than chores or annoyances. Game changer. Maybe not for those who are naturally present but for me? This is new and simply wonderful. All this to say, I hope this makes sense and maybe makes your go-go-go day without the long break you crave and deserve, a little bit brighter.

Also – got any other micro-micro moments I could enjoy more? Please share! I gotta grow my list.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

One Year Without Alcohol: What I’ve Learned About Sobriety

Posted on by
Reply

1 year (and 1 week) of no alcohol. Honestly, I never thought I would be sharing that. I never thought I’d be setting a goal to stop drinking. I mean sure, I gave up alcohol four times during my pregnancies and when I nursed, but that was different. I knew that was short lived. And honestly, life was less stressful then. I didn’t crave alcohol back then. There were so many times this year when I didn’t think I would make it through the year. As recently as December.

“Screw it,” I thought to myself just weeks ago. “I’ve made it this far, I’m just having a drink. I need it.”

“Nope Sheil. Same logic. You’ve made it this far. Keep going. One more day. Have hot chocolate instead. Have a tonic and lime. Rim a glass with sugar and pour in cranberry seltzer. Anything else to relax. You don’t actually need a drink to feel better.”

It wasn’t easy.

Saying no to the quick fix when life got loud.
Staying present in the hard moment instead of numbing.
Being in certain situations where drinks were normal.
Margaritas poolside.
Red wine by the fire.
Cosmos at my favorite restaurant.
Gin and tonics on Friday nights.
Realizing how much I missed alcohol and wanting to feel better (which really meant, it was the right decision to be walking away from it not just for a year, but in general…which really meant acknowledging it was indeed, an issue.)
Feeling isolated in social situations, being the one not drinking.
Or being ignored at a restaurant once the waitress realizes your bill will be less because you aren’t ordering alcohol. (That was fascinating.)

So yeah this past year wasn’t easy.

But I did it.

One no to the drink, one yes to my goal, at a time. And it feels good. On so many levels. Better sleep. Better skin 🙂 Better health. More self-confidence. Only area for improvement? The taste lol. Definitely need to find more options! It doesn’t taste so good!! Thank you all for your words of encouragement and support along the way. They have meant so much. And congrats to all of you in this community who are on a similar journey and also going one moment, one step at a time!

I have a lot more to say on this topic and am curious if there is interest 🙂 It kinda reminds me of another topic I wrote about years ago. A taboo topic where people wanted to talk about it, but also were hesitant too. Send me a DM or drop a comment if interested.

Sending my warmth to you on this Wednesday,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

A Divorced Mom’s Thanksgiving: When the Holiday Is Beautiful and Hard

Posted on by
Reply

It’s always hard posting stories like this. But, keeping it to myself doesn’t feel right. You all know me — I like to be honest and to fully represent the non-perfect side of social media. I thrive at that. Holiday seasons are full of beautiful family photos. And well… Moments before I took this photo, I had tears in my eyes.

It was the morning of my Thanksgiving with my boys. It was NOT going well. Boys were bickering. And that is being mild. My college kiddo was home. Since I’m divorced, I only had all my boys together for a whopping 1.5 days. I wanted the time to go well.

To go smoothly.
To be happy.
It. Was. Simply. Not. Going. That. Way.
It was disappointing.
Discouraging even.
Was this how the entire day was going to go?

I took a break from the situation. And here’s where my doubt in sharing comes, but stick with me, okay? To be honest, even though it was only 11:00 am I wanted a gin and tonic.

I wanted to ease the pain, the stress, the chaos, the feelings of discomfort. But I’m 320+ days of not choosing alcohol so I chose hot chocolate. It was good, but it wasn’t the same. Did it taste good, but in a different way? Yes! Did it help me relax in the sense that I slowed down, sat and really enjoyed it? Yes!

But did it numb the feelings? Did it numb my stress? No. Because really, that is what I wanted in that moment. To numb.

Here’s the thing…this post isn’t about alcohol and me preaching about how I have chosen to be sober (there are a lot of reasons there.) We all have something we turn to when we want to numb. I have a few. Shopping to decorate the house. Scrolling. Eating. Just zoning out to avoid. This season, when the to-do’s grow (even though they are ones I enjoy) when expectations grow, when kids anxieties grow because of school work, exams, and excitement for the holidays, when the this, the that, when it all becomes A LOT (even a lot of goodness) it is easy to want to numb, a lot.

But I know from years of learning to live with the gray…that numbing only pushes the pain down…down inside and down the road so to speak. It doesn’t actually make me feel better. And so I keep trying to find more productive ways to feel the gray so it doesn’t win in the moment. Not always easy, is it? All this to say… I share this story to simply say, I get it. I get the pressure. I get the desire to escape.

I get the wish to just feel better. I get the longing for ease. You aren’t alone in these feelings (that is if you get them) If no one in your friend group is openly talking about this, know that I am. I wish I didn’t want to numb as much; that things weren’t so much. I wish I turned less to shopping and eating.

But here I am. Knowing it, working through it, and doing my best. It ain’t easy. But I’m doing. Just like you. Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you are feeling all the “a lot” of this season, or in general and you are also trying to numb less.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When One Sip Sounds Like a Good Idea: What Sobriety Looks Like on a Hard Day

Posted on by
Reply

The bottle was leftover from the graduation festivities. It sat, open, but closed, in the bottom shelf of the fridge, and it called my name. Oh did it call my name. “Oh hey there Sheila. You didn’t know I was here, did you? Well, here I am. Chilled, open, ready for you, right when you are so incredibly stressed and ready to lose your ever loving mind. It’s just one sip. What’s the danger in just one sip?”

“Right,” I thought. “What is the danger in just one sip? I have already gone well over five months without a drink, so what is one drop, one sip? Does it really matter? It’s not like I decided to stop drinking because I had a problem. I stopped drinking for health reasons. I stopped drinking to show my sons that life didn’t need alcohol to be “delicious” and enjoyable. I stopped drinking because it is a problem historically in my family and I knew I could very well go down that path; that I sensed I might be going down that path.”

I grabbed the bottle. I twisted the lid off. The bottle was two weeks-ish old so the smell of the white wine was strong.

Inviting. Tempting. I lifted the bottle up. And I almost took that sip. I almost did. I was so, so, incredibly close. And then I stopped.

And I walked right to the sink and poured the entire bottle out. First, it was old and it wasn’t worth it. Second, it was just one sip but one sip and I knew that one sip would lead to two, and two would lead to three, and three would lead to a glass. And third, third, I was days away from celebrating 6 months of being alcohol free. I didn’t want to give up on myself. I didn’t want to give up on my commitment. I didn’t want to give up in a moment of weakness.

The pride I felt when I said no to the wine, and yes to myself, was immense. At the same time, the sadness I felt that I was so stressed that I felt I needed something to numb, well, that bummed me out. Why?

Because to me it proved that yes, yes, not drinking was indeed the right path for me. Alcoholism is a problem in my greater family. Not drinking is a part of my journey now.

And the fact that it is so hard some days just continues to prove how it is such an important part of my journey. And it is hard. Really hard some days. Some days the stress, the pain, the overwhelm is so much that I just want a drink to make it go away.

But the drink doesn’t solve anything. And what I really want? What I am really seeking in that moment is the ritual of the drink and the feelings the ritual gives me. The pouring, the creating, of a drink.

Ritual = Doing something just for me The sitting down, and taking a break to drink, the drink.
Ritual = Slowing down and relaxing The enjoying and fully savoring the drink.
Ritual = Filling up with joy after a day of feelings that have been the exact opposite.

So as I continue my journey of not drinking —which is a part of my greater journey of living a life that feels good, that aligns with who I am, who I want to be, what I want, and where I want to go— I will continue to find a new ritual for when I feel overly stressed and needing to numb. I will continue to try and create a reset ritual for myself that doesn’t include alcohol. Or rather, creating several reset rituals. (Side note: if only I liked drinking tea. I used to work for Lipton Tea and I know that tea drinkers find it to be very much a ritual type of thing. I can’t make myself like tea…at all. Ugh. And baths take too long. And exercising at night wakes me up. I’ve tried lots of things. And I will keep trying)

Until I find a reset ritual that works fully…I will keep doing what I am doing which is saying to myself, “Sheil, you don’t want the drink, you want to feel better and this ain’t gonna do the trick. Maybe in the moment it will, but only briefly. It isn’t worth it. Pour some water. Leave the room. Put some music on.”

While I know this post is about my journey to not drink, the truth is we all have things /actions/habits (yes, habits) we do to numb ourselves when we need to escape the frustration, the stress, the pain, the overwhelm, the chaos, the whatever-feeling-we-don’t-like that we are currently feeling.

What is your go to replacement action for said numbing habit? Do you have one? Scrolling is another one of my numbing go-to’s. Ugh. “Don’t scroll, go for a quick stroll” is one of my sayings/actions for that struggle (and yes, I still struggle lol) Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, especially if you are struggling with a numbing activity that you would really like to stop. I know it ain’t easy.

Gosh do I (especially since many of the numbing activities are generally everywhere we go!) 

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

P.S. Not drinking is officially part of my journey, my story, my life. I will be writing about it more. I can’t, not write about it. I hope you stick around in spite of this addition. Again, it isn’t a judgement of anyone who still drinks. It is just my journey and like I said, it is a reflection of any action we take to avoid feeling something we don’t like AND it is a part of my greater journey to live a life where I can walk lighter and feel brighter

90 Days Without Alcohol: Why I Quietly Decided to Stop Drinking

Posted on by
Reply

I have some news. I’ve debated sharing it but here goes, absolutely nothing, and absolutely everything all at once. This morning I celebrate a major milestone for myself. As of this morning, I have gone 90 days without having an alcoholic beverage. And ladies, I am so friggin’ proud and ecstatic and relieved.

Here’s my story. I haven’t really told anyone about this goal. It kinda just happened. I’ve been trying to get to a healthier weight to beat a type 2 diabetes diagnosis. My health coach suggested I cut back on my 1-2 drinks a week. “Many of my clients your age see a major difference when they do this.”

I knew this to be true, but 1-2 drinks couldn’t possibly make a difference. That’s when I started tracking my food intake. And drinks. And looked in the mirror. Big time.

The truth is, though, it wasn’t 1-2 drinks. Last November, it had become 3-4 a week and one week, it was 7, one nightly. Stress had been increasing, BIG time (clearly.) The end of the day came and my mind, my body, my everything craved a gin and tonic to relieve the stress, the pain, the everything and anything I hadn’t figured out how to cope with because I hadn’t figured out what was bothering me in the first place.

And that, my friends, was a big ‘ole wake up call. I knew that wanting alcohol to numb my pain and overwhelm wasn’t a good thing. You see… Alcoholism runs in my family and not just that – it has run over my family. It has changed lives, in many ways, and not for the better. I wish I could write more but I can’t without permission. For me though, it has always (until this past November) changed my life for the better.

It woke me up and made me say, “Never will I let alcohol ruin my life or my kids.” I have always grown up telling myself I would raise my boys aware of alcoholism and the impacts. I have been drunk less than 4 times as a result of what I have seen alcohol do. I have barely been buzzed for that matter. Even after someone told me, “You’d be a lot more fun if you drank,” I still stayed true to mostly avoiding alcohol. I have always known the negative impact alcohol holds and so I have kept it to a bare, bare minimum.

And so this fall, this fall when my body was practically demanding alcohol to feel better? And then my health coach said something along the lines of (and I am going to get this wrong and I am not giving medical advice): “Your body works harder to focus on removing the toxins that come with alcohol than fat.” Well, I decided that was it. I was going to give it a try. I mean, I’ve had 4 boys and collectively went 36 months without drinking.

I’ve gone years filled with only 1-2 drinks a week. There is certainly no reason I can’t go cold turkey. Oh, and did I mention at this time I was also starting to feel cruddy about myself more than usual? Feeling like a failure because I hadn’t hit some necessary goals? Yep. Let’s add that. I wanted to feel successful again. I yearned to feel successful. I knew that feeling successful would be contagious and would spill over into other areas of my life where I was struggling.

And I was right. Achieving one goal, one day at a time (which actually has been two goals – weight loss, and alcohol loss) has had a major waterfall effect in my life.

So today is a big celebration. I celebrate determination. I celebrate loving myself enough to try. I celebrate reminding myself of my goals every time I saw a drink and wanted one – including last night when the stress of wondering if I am going to meet my packing goal was omnipresent. I celebrate living a life aligned with my values, my goals. I celebrate showing my boys a lesson that matters so very much to me that I had temporarily walked away from.

I celebrate feeling a little more alive again, one day at a time. I celebrate because we should all celebrate any little or big wins we have. It is absolutely friggin necessary and not to mention, so much fun. Confetti is fun ladies. (Just do it in the garage, less mess haha.) I believe in all of us. I write that not to be cheesy or corny or whatever – I write that because I know not all of us have someone saying that.

We all deserve to have a hype person, someone telling us that. You are worthy of working towards the hard goal that you know will ultimately make you feel better. You are, truly.

Sending my warmth, to go with your strength, today and always. And if you need a little extra strength, I share that too. And if you are struggling and wanting to know more about this particular subject, I am a message away (a little preoccupied these two weeks with packing, but I am here.)

xoxo, Sheila


🧡 The Orange Rhino