Lesson not learned #2: One glass turns into a bottle

This is NOT a normal occurrence.

I promise.

My drinking has not reached levels to where I do it by myself...normally. And if this is the case it's on a weekend and I have plans to either meet up with friends or hang out when PH gets home.

During football season I get stuck at home quite a bit on Friday nights. If PH is coaching an away game, I'll go home, have a glass of wine, and wait for him to get home so we can go out. Typically, I'm a good wifey-pants like this.

Other times...I'm not.

This last Friday just happened to be one of those nights. It doesn't start off this way; my plan was to have ONE glass of wine and hang out until he got home, but my week last week was long and tiring and all I wanted to do was go out with my friends.

I called all of them to see if they had plans...not ONE was going out. It’s a sucky reality about turning into an adult, by Friday night most everyone is so exhausted from the work week, Friday typically gets reserved for vegging out with Netflix instead of buying rounds of Rumplemintz -my friend M's favorite. I was eager to go out; I even called a backup reserve...my brother, who had to work until 10pm.

BAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLSSSSSSSSSSSS!

It is this point the night starts to downward spiral.

One glass of wine turns into a bottle, one episode of Freaks & Geeks turns into a marathon.

Around 11pm I finally got a call from PH to let me know he was on the way home.

I don't know if it was my abnormally high pitched voice vibrating into the phone or the not so clean things I asked him to do when he finally got home. Who knows…it’s beginning to fade.

PH: Oh no! You've been drinking tonight. Why do you do this? You're already wasted and I'm not even home yet. How many times have we talked about this?

Dolce: Yeah, but don't worry. I popped open another bottle for when you get here with the pizza. There’s plenty of night left for you to catch up.

PH: It's going to be one of those nights, huh? There will be no crying or temper tantrums, you have to stay fun. Do you hear that young lady? NO CRAZY DOLCE!

Dolce: I promise!!!

The thing is PH has endured some really unlikely scenes when he's come home from a football game late in the evening.

I have been caught:

1. Completely passed out on the bed wearing lingerie (I was waiting for him to get home- but didn’t quite make it)

2. A violently bleeding leg after I tripped and fell into the end table then broke it.

4. Setting off the smoke alarms because I forgot to turn the timer on when cooking a frozen pizza

and

5. Wearing my wedding dress

PH and I had been married for about 9 months and this football season was the first one I got to "enjoy" in coupledom.

Honestly, I was living in Singleton every Friday night while he was coaching until midnight or later. One Friday though he was getting off early -11pm- and we made plans for the first time in weeks to go out on Friday. Whoo hoo!

Here is where the problem lies: I thought I would have a drink or two, watch a movie, and wait for him to PH to get home so we could go out. Well, one drink turned into two, which turned into 6?

Then I spotted it hanging in my closet.

My wedding dress.

Here's the truth for all men, if your bride doesn't look the best she's ever looked on her wedding day, you're screwed.

Shallow? Possibly, but let's be honest: There is no woman more focused than a bride trying to look great in her wedding dress.

I've never been a big person, but I turned from a normal girl to a woman possessed. When I got fitted for my dress the seamstress looked at me very sweetly and said,
"Well, the size six fits you in the boobs and butt, but its two inches too small in the waist. It fits a 25" waist and you're almost 27".

"Listen lady, put me down for the size 6. I don't care what it takes. I will fit into that dress."

And so the broccoli and chicken diet began.

It took a little help to get the dress on, but by the time the wedding day came, the dress fit perfectly and I finally achieved waif thin...something my curvy body never allowed.

So there I was standing drunk in our studio apartment staring at my wedding dress. I kept thinking to myself, "It’s too pretty to just be hanging in the closet". So I ripped off my clothes and pulled the dress off the hanger.

I was standing in the middle of the apartment as I stepped into the dress and pulled it up and rested it on my hips while I tried to zip up the back.

My self esteem came crashing to the floor.

A minute later PH opened the front door and stopped in his tracks like his feet were submerged in quick drying cement and was mid sentence when he saw me: My tear soaked face covered in streams of black mascara, sitting on the couch, with a drink in my hand, wearing my wedding dress.

PH: What is going on here?

Dolce: ‘Mm…sssooo upset. M’ wedengg dresssss dunsnit fiiiiiiiit!!! (bursts out in full sobs)

PH: Holy shit. Uh….I don’t understand a word you’re saying so I’m going to leave now and come back in 10 minutes and this (points his finger in my direction) needs to be fixed.

He came back ten minutes later with a 4-pack of Guinness and saw me cleaned faced sitting naked on the couch with the wedding dress hung neatly in the closet.

PH: Are you okay?

Dolce: NO!

PH: What’s wrong? I came home to find you crying in your wedding dress. What am I suppose to think is going on?

Dolce: (starts crying again) I’ve become a fat ass!!! I can’t fit into my wedding dress!!!

PH: That’s what you’re crying about? You can’t fit into your wedding dress? Woman, why the hell are you drinking by yourself? NOT HEALTHY. AT. ALL.

Dolce: What’s not healthy is I’m fat. I’ve turned into one of those women who 20 years from now will be unrecognizable in her wedding picture. You know exactly what I’m talking about because you point it out to me all the time!!! Now I’ve become a fatty and you’ll look at our wedding pictures and say to yourself “My wife really let herself go!”

PH: Honey, I promise I will never say that…as long as I never walk into the house seeing you in a wedding dress. That’s enough to scare a man to death. I thought something was really wrong. Like you were upset you married me.

Dolce: (still crying) But you thought I looked so pretty on our wedding day, and now I’m back to the way I was before!!!

PH: You were very pretty, but I don’t know what you’re talking about….You look exactly the same!

Dolce: Except my fat ass.

PH: Nay. I love the way you look! You’re hot stuff, baby!

Dolce: You’re saying that to be nice.

PH: No, I’m not. I swear. You’re boobs got smaller…that kind of sucked. (we both kind of laughed) But honey, you are never allowed again to drink at home and put a wedding dress on. This really isn’t a healthy habit. I hope I never walk into this again.

Albeit this Friday night incident has only happened a handful of times in our 4 years of marriage, I know he cringes when I answer the phone on a Friday night slightly slurring. However, this Friday may have been an exception…