I hope I never become famous. Given the frequency with which both cameras flash and homemade wine is poured at family gatherings, I’m sure such an image of me (while likely wearing my baby) has to exist.

I just haven’t seen it yet.

Of course, the glass of wine is for me, not the baby. And of course, I limited myself to one glass because it was really all I had time to sip before I needed to change a diaper or feed a bottle.

Admittedly, I am one of The Mommies Who Drink. (Gasp!)

One of them, one of the bad mommies who, while pregnant, brought in the New Year with a glass of champagne and even enjoyed a glass of wine (watered down with seltzer water, no less) at a separate gathering hosted by the one friend I knew would not judge me harshly.

And yes, while breastfeeding/pumping for the first eight weeks of my baby’s life, I did partake in a half glass of wine here and there, but only after a pumping or feeding session. (And only when I was hiding in a dark closet somewhere, so as to avoid being thrown on the Mommy-guilt train by my all-knowing relatives.)

Give me a moment to prepare myself for the backlash…Almost there…Deep breath…Okay. I’m ready.

So where is this post coming from, you may ask? Well, it was prompted by another Mommy who Drinks, who also happens to be the author of a new book, aptly titled “Mommies Who Drink: Sex, Drugs, and Other Distant Memories of an Ordinary Mom.” The collection of stories by actress and mother of two, Brett Paesel, has already been optioned by HBO and is set to become a television series of the same title.

Think “Sex in the City” meets “Roseanne.” Plenty of tongue-in-cheek humor, lots of wisecracks, cable-friendly expletives galore, and weekly gab fests with fellow Mommy drinkers at the local bar. The kids are kind of an after-thought.

This is not a book for someone looking for tips on how to bond with their baby. Unless, that is, said baby happens to be named Jose Cuervo.

And, you may also ask yourself, what does the author wish for most? Well, since you did ask, all she really wants is “an evening doing half a gram of coke in the back of a limo with her girlfriends.”

(Gee, and I thought hoping for my husband to empty out the dishwasher without asking was a lot to ask for…)

This isn’t exactly the pure and beautiful picture of Motherhood most have in mind, but it certainly gives an interesting twist of honesty to an image normally covered in tired smiles and yesterday’s spit-up.

It also provides a much-needed and very honest piece of Mommy lit that doesn’t serve up Motherhood as a quest for perfection and how to do things “right.” Paesel’s self-deprecating humor and quirky anecdotes get down to the nitty-gritty on things like missing your old life and wishing babies came with volume control when colic is in full swing.

In its own unique way, “Mommies who Drink” celebrates the right to be a mother to your children on your own terms, without the bother and worry about, What Everyone Else Thinks. (Mommy wars? What are those?)

Granted, Paesel might not exactly be a poster child for Mom of the Year, but that very honestly makes me want to read more, if only for some laughs and a bit of vicarious living through someone a bit bolder than myself.

After all, it’s Friday night and I’m living it up in my jammies with Baby Einstein music playing on my iPod. The excitement for the evening for Mommy and Buttercup includes a stimulating game of army crawling and giggling at Mommy making silly faces.

Yep, my bad girl days are officially over. But there’s a smile on my face as I drift off to sleep with Buttercup tucked in my arms, because I am okay with that.

(And in case you are wondering, the half-drank glass of wine sits, forgotten, on the kitchen counter.)