I have a niece, 20, and nephew, 16, who do drugs regularly. It started with pot, but now they’re into Molly, popping and snorting crushed pills, mushrooms, and taking cold medicine to get high. I know this because they’re pretty active on Twitter and post references to it and photos of their dilated pupils. They’ve also told me and other family members.
I am a self-admitted alcoholic… or was until I became pregnant. It took impending motherhood to rid me of my alcohol abuse, and I’m so glad it happened.
Candyland is so much more fun baked when you’re an adult. In fact, marijuana makes a lot of things more bearable and even fun. Pot can make you patient and relaxed. I get it, and so does a sizable portion of society. That being said, there are some rules I choose to follow as a pot-smoking parent….
Much to our delight, my partner and I found out we were pregnant with our little pickle three days before our wedding date. There were happy tears, cuddles, and an immediate feeling of “we need to go celebrate!” Usually for us this means cracking open a bottle of bubbles or a few beers… and in just three days we’d have five cases of wine, a dozen cases of beer, and six bottles of rum that people were going to expect us to celebrate with. So how was I going to get out of drinking on this special day without dropping this huge bombshell?
Here’s how I think about a drug like marijuana: it can be fun, but it’s by no means a path to greater enlightenment.
I was at a party. I was pregnant. Someone handed me a half glass of wine, and I drank it. And there it was — the crack of the whip glare. At first I thought I was projecting (my rule was one-ish on a full stomach, with lots of water, to be totally honest) so I turned to the glarer, a friend of mine, who was already a mom.
“You didn’t drink when you were pregnant, did you?”
“No,” her tone was short and sharp.
One mother who suffered from hyperemesis gravidarum during her pregnancy did her research and learned that her best medicine was probably going to be illegal.