Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Don’t Get Drunk Fridays: Molly’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

I haven't updated with a new story in awhile. If you have a story that you'd like me to post then please email it to me! These stories get people sober! They save lives! In ten days I will have been sober for 3 years. I can't believe it's been three years already can you? I will write about it when I get there and fill you all in on how it's been lately (good). For now, here's an amazingly beautiful woman named Molly who is baring her soul to save yours. I don’t really remember my first drink, it was either champagne at a wedding when I was 13, or at boarding school when my friend smuggled vodka from her parents house into the dorm in a contact-lens saline solution bottle. We did shots and went to a dance. It was no big deal. I didn’t have “that moment” that people talk about where everything clicked and alcohol was the answer. Although my feelings about the actual liquid were neutral, I loved the whole vibe of drinking. It seemed like something grownups did, and I desperately wanted to grow up and out of my awkward teenage years. In college (still underage), I did my homework in dive bars, I got really good at playing pool and thought I was so cool. I wanted to be a bartender. Fast forward and I remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, I liked alcohol more than everyone else, even though I tried to hide that fact from everyone. I began to try and control and manage my drinking, beginning at age 21. My thought was that I should smoke pot instead of drinking alcohol because I didn't really like pot, and if I smoked pot instead of drinking alcohol I wouldn't get as wasted. But drinking always crept back in. Always. I was a rebel to the core, and I believed that drunks and drug addicts were more in touch with reality than everyone else. I loved that Charles Bukowski, Sid and Nancy, drug and alcohol romantic suicide vibe. It was a kind of teenage obsession, mixed with rebellion against my ivory tower childhood with sensible parents. For me, drinking and drugs were a way to let out demons, to act crazy, and to be outside the norm. I loved the drama, having huge parties, drinking in the woods or at dive bars and falling down the stairs and laughing about it, doing stuff I never would have had the guts to do sober. I remember the feeling of being hungover, and looking back on the events of the night before, and thinking of all the drunken antics. I hoarded those experiences. Even if I felt like crap the morning after, I still had all that drama. It was like money in the bank. I got a job in a pretty divey bar, where the regulars started drinking at 10 am. Everyone glorified this behavior. They never fell down or acted drunk. They were fine, better than fine! They were SUCCESSFUL ALCOHOLICS. Never mind that Bill had a big red nose, and that Ed occasionally had to be told, in a low-key manner, to go home. Bartending was hard on my body. We would shut down the bar and then stay there drinking and playing pool till 4 or 5 am. I would drink on shift from about 10 pm onwards. I remember working at the bar on New Years Eve. At midnight, as everyone was cheering and toasting, I was sitting on a beer box in the back crying. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I stopped bartending and pursued other jobs. My obsession with alcohol continued, although I met and moved in with a long term boyfriend who was so pure that he inspired me to be pure as well. For four years, I kept the drinking under control. We lived a healthy life, exercising a lot, I drank moderately, as did he, but he never really liked alcohol anyway. After four years, I was bored out of my mind and craving drama. Being in this relationship arrested my drinking temporarily, but I believe my alcoholism was just waiting for the right moment to pop out again. I broke up with the boyfriend abruptly and moved to the big city. Did I get drama? I don't know about that, but I got a huge dose of misery. Poverty, loneliness, low self-esteem. I dated a heavy drinker for a few months, and he encouraged me to drink a lot and then would take care of me afterwards like I was a little kid. I remember tottering down the street drunk in my Halloween costume, and falling down in my too-high heels and scraping my knees on the pavement. My knees got infected. He dressed my wounds with hydrogen peroxide as pus oozed out of them. I started dating my future baby daddy. I fell in love with him immediately and hard. We love each other so much, I love his soul and his innermost being, and I believe that he loves mine, but we were both beset by many addictions, ego-trips, fears, selfishness, you name it. This went on for many years. I was perpetually scared, and felt alone. I felt like I was being punished for something but I couldn't understand what it was. I would sit alone in my apartment and trip out, writing down plans and goals and ideas and revelations. I believed that I could get in touch with my innermost self and emotions through drinking. I drank alone every night out of fear. In 2002 I would write in my journal that I had to quit drinking. And I would continue to write that in my journal for 8 more years. Bad things would happen when I was drinking, and I would cry the next day to my boyfriend and say that I was sorry, and then start right back over again. I thought that because I was an alcoholic, I had no choice but to drink. That's what alcoholics do, right? I tried to control it with varying degrees of success, but no one really knew how much it was eroding my soul. Always hungover, always tired, depressed, shameful, and guilty. Moved in with the boyfriend. We drank, did drugs, fought, made up, made art together, made money and eventually made a baby. I believed that once I became a mother that I would clean up my act. No mother acted the way I did, so I thought that I would just magically figure out how to grow up. I couldn’t possibly keep going like I was going with a tiny baby in my care. I soldiered through 3 more years, drinking pretty much daily and knowing I had to quit. When I finally tried to quit (for reals) in June of 2009, I couldn't put more than three or four days together before I started drinking again. That should have been a sign that I was completely hooked. Alcohol had become my only coping mechanism. At the end I didn't even want it, I just thought I had to have it. I thought that if I didn’t drink, I would not be able to sleep, I wouldn’t be able to deal with the simplest things, and most importantly, I thought I would go crazy. My “rock bottom” was on a business trip, finally I was away from my young son and I could drink the way I wanted to. But that scared me. I was full of shame. I was just sick and tired of feeling this way everyday. Trying to hide how messed up I was from everybody, fighting with my baby daddy every night over email and text, and waking up and having to check what the hell I had said the night before. I could never remember why I had been so upset. It was clear that alcohol was killing me. I had pins and needles in my arms, the headaches were awful. My brain felt cold, like parts of it were dying off. In the airport coming back from the business trip, I was hungover, pacing the airport, screaming at baby daddy on the phone and crying. I thought, "This is not normal. This is not how normal people act." I never thought that alcohol was the problem. I thought alcohol was the solution. I thought the problem was my life, my behavior, the way that people treated me made me so self-pitying, rageful, vengeful. I thought the problem was ME. I wasn't quite sure why my life was so fucked up, so chaotic. Nothing was working out how I planned. Finally I began to see that maybe the drinking was what was causing everything to be a nightmare. I got back home and he asked me if I was having an affair, and in a moment of clarity and honesty I said, "No, I'm not having an affair, I’m an alcoholic, I have to quit drinking." He was shocked. He couldn’t see it, couldn’t see inside my head and see how alcohol had eroded my self-esteem, my identity and my ability to cope. It’s not how much you drink, it’s how you feel about it that makes you an alcoholic. My last drink was January 15th, 2010. We were at a huge party and I literally begged him to let me have a glass of wine. I had one glass of wine, and we fought all night till 5 am. That was the end for me. I did one month sober by myself, and then started going to 12 step meetings. I got so lucky that nothing really bad ever happened during my drinking. No jail, no DUI, thank God nothing happened to my son. I am so grateful that I stopped in time. Sometimes I want to drink but I don't. It's not worth it. I look forward to going to sleep every night knowing that I will not wake up with regrets, remorse and self-hatred. No guilt. No shame. That is worth everything. I was always jealous of people who didn't care about alcohol. People who were sober just amazed me. How did they do it? Now I am one of those people, and I couldn't be more proud. One of the things that quitting drinking has made so very clear is that drinking made me forget who I was and what I liked. My life (especially my life as a mother) consisted of doing things that I hated to do, and then rewarding myself with alcohol. I remember in early sobriety, I was in the grocery store, and I knew what my kid liked, and what my baby daddy liked and what I should get for both of them, but I had NO IDEA what I liked to eat or drink besides alcohol. Booze was the only thing I got at the store for myself. In sobriety, I have learned who I am. Working a 12 step program gave me insights into my mental and emotional landscape, and that landscape is no longer as terrifying as it used to be, although I am sure boogeymen still lurk out there. In sobriety I have tried new things, found new passions, got rid of old toxic friends, found new friends, and my relationship has become much healthier because I am able to be honest as well as vulnerable. I am learning who I am in sobriety, and the most surprising thing (to me) is that in getting to know myself, I have actually started to like myself. Maybe for the first time ever. As a recovering drama addict and alcoholic, one of my struggles is to learn to be happy with the middle ground. When I was drinking, everything was either “the BEST” or “the WORST”. I have learned that “pretty good” is pretty great too. Sometimes I miss drinking because of the drama, but I know that my life today is SO much better, and I am so grateful I got a chance to get my life back before it got worse. Something that I heard in early sobriety that really resonated with me was “The only way out is through”. Making cute little detours around hard stuff, especially hard emotions, was what kept me drunk for so long, and the hardest work that I have to do in sobriety is to walk through hard stuff instead of running away or numbing out. If you are reading this and want to get sober.. You can. If you want this, you can have it. It’s work, but it’s SO worth it.

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Jessica Simpson who up until recently was being crucified by the media for gaining a bunch of pregnancy pounds was sort of my unlikeliest of heroes. She of the not grasping the concept of why tuna fish would be named "Chicken of the Sea" and other blonde moments. But her weight gain made her more of a relatable personality than any reality show could ever hope to achieve. Millions of women, including myself, who didn't gain the prescribed 25-35 pounds saw their own muffin eating, cookie gobbling, carb hoovering ways reflected in the light of a Grammy winning singer. We were all about love for each other. Until Jess popped out Maxwell (love that name by the way) and vowed to get the weight off ASAP. Here's where my similarities with Jessica end. I did not lose my pregnancy weight right away. In fact, it took almost 18 months to get to my pre-pregnancy weight, which sadly went right to shit less than a year later when I got knocked up with twins. I sported my "Just had a baby" t-shirt for over a year. The problem was, being a new mom wasn't conducive to weight loss. I didn't have the freedom to hit the gym regularly (read: at all) for a long time and going for a brisk walk with a baby didn't really cut it as far as quick weight loss. I was also a little busy, BEING A MOTHER. Why would losing weight be on the top of my list of things to do anyway? Unless someone has a movie shooting in the next month I really don't understand why celebrities are in such a race to get skinny. I gave birth in November and was going to be in my sister-in-law's wedding the following July so I had incentive to get into my bridesmaid dress but that didn't get me there. Nothing got me there. I distinctly remember crying to my sister-in-law around May that the scale would not budge below the mid 140's and I wondered if my weight gain was permanent. I actually read that if you don't lose the weight within 6 months after giving birth that you never will. Seven months after having Elby, I stood up for my brother still twenty pounds bigger than I had been before. But eventually, much later, I was back to normal. It all worked out. Really. So Jessica, I know you have a deal with Weight Watchers and all but you would do a huge service to your fellow moms if you took a little longer to shed the pounds. Show us that you are a real person! Lead the way! Over here on Babble, I put up this post with pictures of 20 moms and how they looked during the first few month (some longer) after giving birth to their babies. I suggest you check it out because it's like a Xanax in photo form.

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

When I was in my teens, it took very little to put my mind in the gutter — a nice butt in Levi 501's, a sniff of Polo, and I was a mess of hormones. In my twenties it was all about the right music, the right wine, and men who were petrified of commitment. In my thirties I was wrapped up in getting married and making a few babies. And now … the things that get me going are pretty specific … my husband in Calvin Klein boxer briefs, the Phil Phillips performance of Usher on Idol, a hot dad at my kids’ preschool … and I’m pretty typical. If you go to my Babble blog, I queried my friends to find out what turns them on and posted the fascinating results. Enjoy. P.S. one of my friends said Keith Morrison from Dateline and I totally get that!

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

I put everyone's confessions together and put it in a post at Babble. I think it came out really great but you be the judge. I would love to hear more of your "confessions" because they truly help me feel connected to all of you and less cray-cray; especially coming off the end of what was basically three weeks of spring break with my children. My children are like candy: I crave them, can't get enough of them, think about them all the time and then just when I least expect it, never thought it could happen, feel incredibly sick and need to not see or hear candy for a little while. You get what I mean. So check out the post and if you haven't yet, leave a confession of your own in the comments!

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

I believe that I'm an excellent mom. I strive for excellence, put my damn back into excellence. And when I fall short of excellence, I look hard at my weaknesses and attempt to improve. That being said, one mom's brand of excellence is another mom's sub par slacker-ass, downright non-excellence. So it's all relative. Just today Matilda made me a little play-doh figure and when she handed it to me apparently I held it wrong and squashed it a teeny tiny hard to see way. She cried...a lot. When I couldn't understand why she was crying it escalated sobbing which escalated quickly into a tantrum. I told her to go to her room where she cried that I ruined her thing over and over. I admit I felt extremely agitated. I really wanted to yell at her to stop it because, come on! What the hell had I done wrong? Why was she screaming so hard? Is she possessed? Would it ever stop? But I was able to say to myself, "She's only four. She's probably tired. And hungry." It was 5:45 and I hadn't made her dinner yet. Also, yelling at her to stop yelling probably wouldn't have had a beneficial outcome to either party. So I went to her room, sat on the edge of the bed and just said, "I don't understand why you are crying this hard over me accidentally squishing part of your play-doh." And she said, "Because you didn't apologize." So I did. And she said, "It's okay." And she hugged me and it was done. It's moments like that where I do think that I'm growing, that maybe I rule just a tiny bit. But then I get on the computer and tune them out while I check my email and I think, "hmm...maybe not so much on the ruling." So even though I think I do an overall good job, and that I believe we all do an overall good job -after all, if you're reading my blog you must be somewhat interested in parenting -there are some things I do which would make many people roll their eyes. I will list a few for you now: I've given Sadie ice cream for breakfast. Sometimes I give in to whining. A lot of emails asking for classroom volunteers go unanswered. I once let Matilda eat a peanut m&m that rolled out of a candy machine and onto the floor at the mall. Elby gets to watch Dance Moms. Sometimes Elby gets to play games on my computer in lieu of a bedtime story. My kids don't bathe every day. In fact, Matilda recently went so long without a bath I'm ashamed to say she smelled homeless. The whole lot of them eat Happy Meals once in awhile. And by once in awhile I mean probably once a week. I oftentimes don't make my kids clean up their toys because it's easier to do it myself than to stay on them about it. I buy too many toys. Okay, there you go. Now. I want to do a blog post where I showcase some of your admissions. Can you please send me a picture of you with your kid(s) and a line or two of something you do that you know other moms wouldn't approve of? When I get 20 I'll post them and give you the link. Thanks so much to all who are willing to participate!!

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

It's rare to find someone to help you with your kids who cares for them anywhere in the ballpark of how you care for them. I had that in Liz. When I had my twins I was on an ill-timed deadline to finish my third book. Between hormones (double the dose), PPD, preemies just home from the hospital and work stress I was the epitome of a hot mess. But luckily I had a secret weapon: my newly hired help. I'd hired a nanny to help me bridge the gap because I knew I had to get my book in but I also had another child who had just started preschool in addition to the twins. It was going to be a nearly impossible situation. She sort of took over while I cried over my computer, over my deadline, over my perceived lack of parenting twins ability. Liz stepped in and stepped up, taking the twins for long walks, helping me hold them, feed them, love them. Liz saved my life. And I almost didn't hire her. When I was maybe seven months pregnant I had a pretty lackadaisical approach. I sort of figured I had a lot of time to choose someone. When Liz came over she was very sweet but clearly meant business -letting me know that she had a strong religious faith -Jehovah's Witness and wanted to make sure I didn't have a problem with that. All I knew about Jehovah's Witnesses was that Michael Jackson was one and that they liked to knock on people's doors a lot. So after Liz left I Googled it and what I found really didn't bother me. Hey, she wasn't a Scientologist! But I didn't call her back right away because I just wasn't ready to commit. Cut to a few weeks later when I found myself on bedrest in the hospital. While I was there, not thinking about nannies, my husband told me that Liz had called and that she was very interested in the job. Apparently she was being offered another job but she wanted to work with me more (I wish it was because I was so pretty and charming but I think it was more because the other job seemed like more work and required travel). So seeing as it would've been tough to start interviewing more people at this stage and based on a good feeling, we hired her. Don't you just love trusting your instincts? It was the best decision ever made out of sheer laziness and desperation. Liz became a part of our family. She saw me bloated, teary, overwhelmed, panicked and vulnerable and she never let on that it was anything less than a normal situation. When Sadie got a feeding tube button put in, Liz was one of the first people to feed her through it. I'll never ever forget that. So when I hear stories of people who don't take good care of the people who take good care of their kids it makes me crazy. I wrote a post about it on Babble called, Are You a Babysitters Worst Nightmare? Give it a read because I'd love to hear your comments or stories!

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

So Sadie broke through the 28 lb mark. This may not seem like much to you owners of fat babies, babies who weighed 28 pounds by the time they were 18 months, but to us it’s a huge deal. I almost cried when I saw the number. Almost. I’m not a pussy. It was honestly starting to seem like Sadie would weigh 27 pounds forever. This is the problem with with these small kids: They can eat all day long and not gain a pound. Sure it’s a wonderful trait for a supermodel or anxiety ridden forty-five-year-old who binges on Girl Scout Cookies to relieve stress, but a preschooler needs to gain weight. They need the pounds for little things like, I don’t know, brain development and eventually reaching the height of a kitchen counter. Most of the time I try not to think about Sadie’s height. Unfortunately Mattie is full head taller and outweighs Sadie by 14 pounds so it is sort of a constant reminder. But we are doing what we know is right for now: she eats healthy foods and as much as she wants as often as she wants and she is followed by an excellent endocrinologist at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. Short of the growth hormones, there’s nothing else to do but let nature take its course. Yeah, you know how well I do with “going with the flow.” I like to be in control, take action, keep things moving. I also like to read the last page of a novel or be told the ending to a movie before I see it. My two favorite words are *spoiler alert* And this is why I have a scale. I may not be able to do anything about Sadie’s weight but I can at least keep track of it. So excuse me while I have a little celebration for the number 28! P.S. I wrote a story about Matilda's eating habits which you can check out on my Babble Blog if you like. If you’re in Vegas right now put ten buck on it at the roulette table or at least have a Shamrock shake in Sadie’s honor.

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

You know that as a mom of three who works about 18 jobs I have tons of time on my hands. I mean, that's a given right? So of course I checked out Pinterest and also the website ecards because I have funny thoughts and need a place to put them to pictures. Here's my latest. I did another funny one on Babble that I recommend you check out.

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Stefanie Wilder Taylor

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Sat, 12 May 2012 23:28:03 +0000

Note To Jessica Simpson – Please Don’t Screw Us

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:23:56 +0000

Do You Still Feel Sexy?

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 19:12:04 +0000

#ParentingFail the POST

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 07:53:05 +0000

#ParentingFail

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 02:09:30 +0000

You Are Not Alone -The Video

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:03 +0000

Babysitters -The Unsung Heroes

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 20:16:15 +0000

Sadie’s Feet

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 21:59:34 +0000

Boobs – Hee Hee

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 15:42:20 +0000

Don’t Get Drunk Friday: Erin’s Story

Stefanie Wilder Taylor — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 15:10:56 +0000

I just want to thank Erin for sharing her story. The bravery required to lay yourself bare on this website is nothing short of incredible and each and every one of you who do it are saving lives. This really is life or death. -Stef "I think I was doomed at birth to have a problem with alcohol. Alcoholism runs on both sides of my family. My mother was a raging alcoholic growing up, hiding her bottles and pills in plants or rolled up in towels throughout the house, spending so much time in the bathroom you would have thought she had had prunes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She slurred her words. A lot. My sister and I left one night when she was so drunk and came back to find her apartment locked and we couldn’t get in. We pounded on the door until she finally crawled on her hands and knees and cracked the door open. Smoke began to escape out; she crawled back to the bathroom. Our dinner was burning on the stove and there were several plates ready to be served placed in different rooms. There are a lot of strange stories like that I could tell. My father was a Captain in the Navy and ended up giving up what he loved to find a job that would put him at home more to protect my brother, sister and me. But eventually her alcoholism destroyed our family and when I was in third grade my dad got custody of us. But, my relationship with my mother was like peas and carrots for many years. I was her baby and she adored me. Always telling me how alike we were and that I was her “SP” (sweet pea) and how I look just like her ( I look just like my dad) and how crazy and funny I am…just like her. (I do a good imitation of Reagan from The Exorcist and she would prompt me to do it when going through the Chick-Fil-A drive through and that made her laugh.) And I guess in many ways I held onto moments like these because I knew as soon as it got dark she would turn into someone I didn’t like. My self-esteem has always been something I struggle with. I am incredibly insecure, my heart pounds and my hands sweat in social situations and the anxiety I experience is exhausting. I often hate myself. Now that I am older and have a daughter of my own I believe it is a direct result of not having that true mother figure in my life. When looking back, I can name several instances when I have gravitated to older women, whether a boss, teacher…you name it…in an effort to subconsciously fill that void. I guess you could say it was in college I began to drink, you know, like everyone else, right? Summer before my junior year I met a guy who was older and out of college. I stayed with him until I was 22/3ish. I chased him around like a pathetic school girl (literally) when I found out he was cheating on me four hours away. My self-esteem was clearly lacking here for many years. During my senior year I would isolate myself in my room at college watching MTV’s Real World marathons and drinking beer and feeling like the scum on the bottom of my shoe while I wondered what this guy was doing at home. I pushed all my friends away, gained a lot of weight. I did paint (my degree is in painting). But I hated myself. I lived with him for a year after college and broke up with him the night of my sister’s wedding. She had married a naval pilot. Back then I think I was really beginning to believe I was the disgrace of the family without actually saying it. I pushed everyone away. And hated myself. Again. My next move was to throw myself into the arms of a man 11 years my senior with two kids. And marry him, despite my family’s begging me not to. But I was on a mission and I think my mind was on auto-pilot. I wanted to be taken care of and escape. Escape I did, I became completely isolated from my friends and family and consumed by this relationship that was flawed in more ways than one. It increasingly became more and more emotionally abusive and I nursed all of this self-hate and the situation I had put myself in over wine. He was rarely home, working all the time and wine became my friend. During that time, I saw my mother for the last time, about seven years ago now. I helped her get into a rehab facility and gave her money after she called me saying she was hallucinating and her neighbor had to call 911. She was seeing a little girl in a white dress. I promised myself again I would never become like her and I slowed down drinking for a while. I finally got the courage up to leave my marriage after four years. How I did it, I don’t know. It was an out of body experience. I am now married to a wonderful man who is the most loving, understanding and supportive spouse I could ever ask for. When our daughter was born it was the best day of our lives. I didn’t go back to work, I made all of her food from scratch (for the most part), and I loved on her like any mother would. When she was 6 months old we found out I was expecting again (surprise!) but we were ecstatic. Began picking out names, imagining being a family of four, and at our first doctor’s appointment we found out our baby was not as far along as should be expected. What? I immediately went into a dark hole and could not snap out of it. We had to wait two weeks to find out if our baby was okay. Miscarriage. Everything that I thought I was doing so well began to crash. My equilibrium was completely thrown off and I questioned my abilities as a mother. My anxiety and depression went through the roof and I was put on Zoloft to help. In the middle of this I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism which is directly linked to depression. This helped to explain my mood issues throughout the years and poor self-image. I began drinking wine again, too much. Things began to happen as a result of my drinking and I definitely should not have been combining it with Zoloft. I stopped drinking for two months. Last Sunday I relapsed. I thought I was OK and I went out for a leisurely lunch with the romanticized idea in my head of having a glass of wine while I contemplated paintings in my sketchbook. That glass of wine turned into I don’t know how many. I can’t remember parts of the evening. I do remember being in an ambulance and screaming “I want my baby” and hitting people and crying. I woke up the next morning not knowing where I was or what I had done. I had to ask the nurse if I had hurt anyone. I thank God that I am alive and no one was physically hurt. My blood alcohol level was a .309 and no charges were pressed. I could have easily died. I will not drink again. I will do this for my daughter. I thank God I have the loving support of my family and husband. Truth be told, this is my story." If you are looking for help, The Booze Free Brigade is a bunch of moms who would love nothing more than to offer their support.