What's a girl to do?

It is now the third of January and I am still to have a drink in 2014 (well, other than the ones that I had in the early hours of new year's day but as I was awake from the day before, they don't count. Do they?) Those of you who know me well, know that I love a drink, in fact, a glass of wine does make a meal taste all the better... as does the pre-meal gin and tonic... The Aldi advert where the elderly lady talks about her husband liking both types of tea and then admits her love of gin- that could be me in 30 or 40 years time. I love gin. Gin is great. Nevertheless, gin and wine are not conducive to a healthy pregnancy, so like my beloved cigarettes, alcohol has had to go.

Ten years ago, I lived in France as a part of my French degree. I was meant to be doing a year in a French university- it rather amounted to about a week's worth of lectures and a year of sitting in cafes and visiting art galleries but it was one of the most rounding life experiences ever. I am still in regular contact with my "family" of friends I had out there, one of whom is a true soul sister-she was my bridesmaid two years ago and I shall be hers this year. It was a year of watching old films, drinking a lot of wine, smoking a lot of cigarettes, tears and laughter. I always used to joke that to do a French degree, the first two qualifications needed were a love of good wine and a minimum of a 10 a day habit (the second two being able to swear fluently and the ability to shrug one's shoulders with a certain lack of care). I cannot believe that it has been a decade since that time and neither, if you had asked my 21 year old self, would I have honestly believed that I would have given up the fags and booze ten years later. I loved smoking in the same way that I love alcohol. I miss my fag at the bus stop.

As I put on my striped black and white dress that was yet to be ravaged by beetroot and soup (Note to self: buy an apron before cooking anything ever again...), I giggled to myself that my inner 16 year old would have approved of my slightly Tim Burton-esque dress and I realised that although a lot had changed, nothing truly important has:

1.  I still have an inky black eyeliner in my make up and a feather boa in my  cupboard that are ready to be called up on Manics gig duty. 
2. My friends are still the same core group that I had pretty much from aged 16 to now.
3. My clothing choices- although slightly bizarre according to my mum, haven't really changed other than the skirts are a lot longer. 
4. Glitter is still a huge part of who I am.

The good changes that have happened are:

1. That I no longer self harm or eat weirdly and neither am I as prone to such huge mood swings. 
2. Didn't turn into Bridget Jones and met a rather awesome, handsome man and yes, dear readers, I married him.
3. Became a moderately responsible professional adult with a house and animal responsibilities.

Now, I am not under the pretence that by not drinking alcohol, cutting down caffeine and stopping smoking that a magician will suddenly appear from within a cloud of glitter and smoke and say, "Ta da! Here is your baby- well done for following the rules." If only it was that simple! I do, however, need to become healthier- shift some weight and not do the naughty legal drugs that can play havoc with early embryos. I know that none of my miscarriages have been caused by any loose living on my part (seriously, my life is mostly played out from my sofa- clubs make my head hurt...), it's the bloody wonky genes playing up and sadly, they don't play by any rules. They are the lottery roll of the dice and no amount of clean living will make them behave themselves but a lot of what is happening leaves me feeling very out of control and just feeling like I'm doing the right thing helps. 

So keep passing me the sparkling elderflower, please...