I am now lying on the sofa with the laptop resting on my thighs. I have on my comfy pants and my slippers and a big pink sweatshirt. Comfy, comfy, comfy.
Mr D has just walked into the room after putting our 7-year-old to bed and I have (nicely) asked him for a cup of tea. He knows it's the chamomile time of night.
On the TV is a show about people renovating homes. My 10-year old has now just joined me on the sofa with his hair wet and PJs on after having a bath that I insisted on him having. He resisted but now he is clean and fresh and that makes me happy. He turns 11 in three days and we are discussing what he wants for his birthday breakfast (a pancake stack, maple syrup and bacon "with icing sugar sprinkled over like at a cafe mum").
I can hear my 12-year-old in the study with his friend who is here on a sleepover. They are playing Minecraft and talking online with other friends who are also playing.
The dog has just ambled into the room and stuck his nose into my arm. I had to pause typing to give him some scratchy love and now he's collapsed onto the rug.
My muscles are sore from the gym this morning. I have increased my weights slightly because I want to keep pushing myself and because I can!
The tea has arrived and it smells delicious. Mr D has switched the renovation programme to Game of Thrones. I'm not a huge Game of Thrones fan but I suppose he has the right to do that given he made the tea.
This is my ordinary and glorious sober life. Utterly fabulous and ordinary and cosy and sober.
Sober, sober, sober, sober.
Sobriety gives me so much. It gives me calm where before there was boozy chaos. It gives me clarity where before there was blurry confusion. It gives me peace where before there was guilt and misery.
Above all it gives me strength and pride and the ability to keep pushing myself forward. Onwards! Always.
Love, Mrs D xxx
(Photo taken yesterday on the wonderful wild coastline just 15 minutes drive from our house.)
