What a morning. Not a bad one, actually. The Powers That Be decided they should go a little easier on me since I'm feeling blue.

I woke up to a bed crammed full of boys in pajamas (apparently it was a night for bad dreams) yet without the accompanying neck pain I would normally get from jutting toddler elbows.

Intrepid got off to school with very little pre-teen angst to show for it. Gutsy and Spawnling got dressed without a single complaint, had breakfast, listened to me... Let me just say that again because it's such a rare and wondrous event: listened to me (!!) and off we drove to preschool and playgroup.

There was no "I hate school" in Gutsy's vocabulary and a good reason for it, too. The theme at preschool over the next two weeks is 'science', which means experiments, which means my little Jekyll and Hyde is thrilled down to his Spiderman Underoos. Today's experiment involves a balloon filled with flour and some ice. I have no idea what they're doing, but the sheer combination of those three items made my gremlin's eyes light up like a 15-year-old boy meeting a swimsuit model. I see engineering in his future. Or pyromania.

(Preferably engineering.)

Playgroup was lots of fun for the first 90 minutes and slightly less fun in the last 30 when Spawnling decided he was too tired to share toys. Instead he chose his best method of dealing with not getting his way by putting his head down on the floor and crying until I pick him up. I've thought about trying that myself, but I don't think anyone could lift me.

Back to the first 90 minutes: good times. Lots of discussion about kids and crafts and vacations (that I never go on) and houses and... oh yeah, and drinking. Drinking I don't do, but most of the parents there don't know that. I'm an incognito recovering alcoholic at playgroup; I blend into conversations about the drink by nodding and smiling.

Nodding and smiling is a lot easier than saying that I don't drink. That normally turns into assumptions that it's because I'm nursing, which involves me nodding and smiling anyway. Then there are the select few who will ask if I don't drink specifically because I'm nursing. They'll say something like "Oh, when you're nursing? Or all the time?" and that involves either lying, which I don't like to do, or me saying "All the time."

Most people would leave it there, but there are those who like to take it a step further. Push the envelope. They just can't figure out how someone seemingly so normal-like (yes, that would be me) doesn't enjoy even a glass of wine now and then. Eventually this either leads to me saying "I'm allergic to alcohol" which yields a lot of medical questions, or "it's a personal decision I made a long time ago" followed by inquisitive looks and questions about family members with "problems."

Sometimes I go there. Rarely, but I do. I'll say "because I'm an alcoholic." Not my favourite response, mind you. Not because I'm ashamed of my alcoholism, nor am I worried people will frown upon me. I'm The Maven. Very few people frown upon me because I radiate awesomeness... or something. Maybe I just smell good. Anyway, what usually happens after that is the person ends up nodding and smiling in that awkward way. I mean, what do you say to that? "Good for you?" or, "Are you still... um... you know... drinking?" Oh, the uncomfortable responses are endless!

In the end, there is always nodding and smiling. This is why it's easier to blend into a conversation about drinking by doing just that (not drinking, but nodding and smiling, just so we're clear).

Today one of my mom friends was talking about Switzerland and how you can drink in parks there. She said it's not allowed here and I corrected her. I said a person can drink in a park around here as long as they have food with it (of course I would know that). Anyway, she said drinking in a park while watching her children isn't something she could see herself doing, but that there would be an advantage, say, on a Friday afternoon, when one could have a beer or a glass of wine to unwind after a long week.

Then she looked at me like I would totally get it.

Do you know what I "totally got"? How I would behave at a park with my children if one could drink there and I was still a practicing alcoholic. Me on the grass after several shots of whiskey, watching one of my children on the swings in a haze of inebriation. Smiling. Waving at him. Hi, honey! You're going so high!

Oh, wait a minute. That's not my child, that's some other kid. That's not even a boy child, unless he has braids and a dress. I just thought his leg was fat. Mine are standing over me wondering what I'm doing. Just getting some sun, sweethearts. Having a drink and unwinding after a long day. Can you go into the van and get mommy's bottle of wine? The one she keeps under the seat? Thanks. You're such a dear.

And if we were here instead of in Switzerland? I could put a lime on my glass and call it food. Technicalities, right?

What I "totally got" was that drinking at a park isn't necessarily a good idea. And that I am not normal although I do a good impression of it, and it's so funny I don't have 'recovering alcoholic' stamped on my forehead. People just assume I'm like them. I'm good at blending.

What did I say when she looked for my agreement? Nodded and smiled, of course. Then I had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude that I could drink coffee in parks. Thank goodness.