Today PJ and I went to get groceries together alone, knowing the stores would be all but empty thanks to the long weekend, thanks to weekends being hot and crazy as of late. I waited until we ran completely out of food, too and then I woke him up early, told him I was leaving in twenty minutes, did he want to come with?
Yeah, he said, looking almost grateful for a Big Task, and after taking a few minutes to dress and brush his (very long) hair, we were off, not having been alone for weeks. PJ is now seventeen days sober and really isn't having trouble at all. Alcohol wasn't so much an addiction for him as it was an event, and he ended the event independently and before I pointed out he was being heartbreaking and so it's not a question of him not drinking but a question of him being able to navigate stress and changes without turning into a drunken jerk in the process.
He would probably say the same about me, but for it only takes me a glass and a half of wine to be ruined and subsequently send myself straight to bed. If he had only done that this wouldn't feel strange right now. It wouldn't be so hard.
He gets into my Jeep and buckles his seatbelt.
Hey.
Hiya. You sleep?
Oh yeah. You?
Enough.
How much is enough?
Enough to get through the day without falling apart, I guess. Thanks for coming with me.
Thanks for asking. I'm always game to go.
I appreciate that.
Though they can get their own food.
I know.
Same argument every trip. Last time we tried shelf assignments in the fridge and cupboard it got crazy, and Duncan almost got scuvy. They're very large children when it comes to diet. No veggies, no fruit unless someone makes it and puts it in front of them. I mean, I could let Duncan get scuvy and then maybe he would learn but it's a hassle and what's nine extra children? I was cooking anyway.
The morning sped on and every now and then I would sneak a look at PJ to see if we were really okay and he would catch me and then look away as quickly as I did and it still feels like we have a little way to go but then he takes my hand and squeezes it. He laughs and tells me he's glad he can be here for the next stage of our lives, the children's lives, to be a part of the Collective less drunkenly maybe and with his shit together again. I point out there's been a lot of that going around lately, that both Lochlan and I have suffered glorious tantrums akin to thunderstorms, clearing out the humidity from the air, making it fresh again.
He's happy with my description, throws an extra bucket of ice cream to the top of a very overloaded cart and we're off to the checkout.
Yeah, he said, looking almost grateful for a Big Task, and after taking a few minutes to dress and brush his (very long) hair, we were off, not having been alone for weeks. PJ is now seventeen days sober and really isn't having trouble at all. Alcohol wasn't so much an addiction for him as it was an event, and he ended the event independently and before I pointed out he was being heartbreaking and so it's not a question of him not drinking but a question of him being able to navigate stress and changes without turning into a drunken jerk in the process.
He would probably say the same about me, but for it only takes me a glass and a half of wine to be ruined and subsequently send myself straight to bed. If he had only done that this wouldn't feel strange right now. It wouldn't be so hard.
He gets into my Jeep and buckles his seatbelt.
Hey.
Hiya. You sleep?
Oh yeah. You?
Enough.
How much is enough?
Enough to get through the day without falling apart, I guess. Thanks for coming with me.
Thanks for asking. I'm always game to go.
I appreciate that.
Though they can get their own food.
I know.
Same argument every trip. Last time we tried shelf assignments in the fridge and cupboard it got crazy, and Duncan almost got scuvy. They're very large children when it comes to diet. No veggies, no fruit unless someone makes it and puts it in front of them. I mean, I could let Duncan get scuvy and then maybe he would learn but it's a hassle and what's nine extra children? I was cooking anyway.
The morning sped on and every now and then I would sneak a look at PJ to see if we were really okay and he would catch me and then look away as quickly as I did and it still feels like we have a little way to go but then he takes my hand and squeezes it. He laughs and tells me he's glad he can be here for the next stage of our lives, the children's lives, to be a part of the Collective less drunkenly maybe and with his shit together again. I point out there's been a lot of that going around lately, that both Lochlan and I have suffered glorious tantrums akin to thunderstorms, clearing out the humidity from the air, making it fresh again.
He's happy with my description, throws an extra bucket of ice cream to the top of a very overloaded cart and we're off to the checkout.