What to drink at BritMums Live? “Gin, gin and thrice gin!” I hear you cry. It’s a no-brainer, right? It’s part of the mummy code, it’s the oil of mummy discourse, it’s in the mummy contract! But today, I am going do it. I’m going to come right out and admit it: I am a gin-refuser. Is this the end of my short blogging life? Is this BritMums Live suicide? Alas, poor Hendrick’s, I knew thee well Don’t get me wrong, I love gin. But gin doesn’t love me. It turns me from a happy Haribo into a belligerent beast. Normally, I am so anti-confrontation that I wouldn’t mention it if you’d been standing on my foot for half an hour. But pop a gin down my gullet and the world becomes my enemy. I have an angry five minutes where I assume everyone is against me and lurch around glaring at people from under glowering eyebrows. Then I suddenly flip into Insta-Depression. The adrenalin of “fight phase” leaves me deep down in the doldrums, or gindrums, as I call them. Nothing can raise me from my black mood – no, not even more booze. I just have to go to bed and steel myself for the ginover in the morning. There’s no way round it – I am gin-intolerant. Or, if I may: g-intolerant.
Many of my favourite bloggers live by the gin. I fear forever losing the esteem of the lovely Katie at Hurrah for Gin. Aimee at Pass the Gin won’t give me the time of day. Just a Normal Mummy will cut me dead. I will be ostracized. As I pass by, they will throw glasses of gin and tonic at me, jeering and booing. Raising awareness of g-intolerance But I’ve noticed there’s a silent uprising of fellow gin-refusers. Kerrie at Wife, Mum, Student Bum is one such compatriot. Perhaps there are others that my campaign for g-intolerance awareness will bring out of the shadows into the light. Perhaps I won’t have to drink sparkling water and pretend it’s gin. Perhaps I can be prosecco and proud! Doth drink define a dame?
Perhaps I am worrying unduly? Perhaps I needn’t drink at all? Pah ha ha! I’ve had three kids; I’ve done my time with sober social occasions (notably dancing at countless weddings with a massive bump) – that is it for life now. But perhaps I, and others like me, can be granted a Gin Pass, which allows me to not drink gin, yet still partake in the mummy blogosphere. It’s what’s inside the blogger that’s important, right, not what’s inside their glass? I’m looking forward to clinking glasses, whatever their contents, with all the bloggers I meet – and a virtual clink to those who can’t come. Cheers! 
Be a tonic – look beyond my gintolerance and pop me in for a BIB award? 


October 5, 2020
What To Drink At BritMums Live? – Wry Mummy
maximios Blog
What to drink at BritMums Live? “Gin, gin and thrice gin!” I hear you cry. It’s a no-brainer, right? It’s part of the mummy code, it’s the oil of mummy discourse, it’s in the mummy contract! But today, I am going do it. I’m going to come right out and admit it: I am a gin-refuser. Is this the end of my short blogging life? Is this BritMums Live suicide? Alas, poor Hendrick’s, I knew thee well Don’t get me wrong, I love gin. But gin doesn’t love me. It turns me from a happy Haribo into a belligerent beast. Normally, I am so anti-confrontation that I wouldn’t mention it if you’d been standing on my foot for half an hour. But pop a gin down my gullet and the world becomes my enemy. I have an angry five minutes where I assume everyone is against me and lurch around glaring at people from under glowering eyebrows. Then I suddenly flip into Insta-Depression. The adrenalin of “fight phase” leaves me deep down in the doldrums, or gindrums, as I call them. Nothing can raise me from my black mood – no, not even more booze. I just have to go to bed and steel myself for the ginover in the morning. There’s no way round it – I am gin-intolerant. Or, if I may: g-intolerant.
Many of my favourite bloggers live by the gin. I fear forever losing the esteem of the lovely Katie at Hurrah for Gin. Aimee at Pass the Gin won’t give me the time of day. Just a Normal Mummy will cut me dead. I will be ostracized. As I pass by, they will throw glasses of gin and tonic at me, jeering and booing. Raising awareness of g-intolerance But I’ve noticed there’s a silent uprising of fellow gin-refusers. Kerrie at Wife, Mum, Student Bum is one such compatriot. Perhaps there are others that my campaign for g-intolerance awareness will bring out of the shadows into the light. Perhaps I won’t have to drink sparkling water and pretend it’s gin. Perhaps I can be prosecco and proud! Doth drink define a dame?
Perhaps I am worrying unduly? Perhaps I needn’t drink at all? Pah ha ha! I’ve had three kids; I’ve done my time with sober social occasions (notably dancing at countless weddings with a massive bump) – that is it for life now. But perhaps I, and others like me, can be granted a Gin Pass, which allows me to not drink gin, yet still partake in the mummy blogosphere. It’s what’s inside the blogger that’s important, right, not what’s inside their glass? I’m looking forward to clinking glasses, whatever their contents, with all the bloggers I meet – and a virtual clink to those who can’t come. Cheers! 
Be a tonic – look beyond my gintolerance and pop me in for a BIB award? 

