Last Saturday I got a blow dry, painted my nails, shaved my legs and applied seventeen layers of foundation. When I was done, I went on an online date.
NO, you scurrilous brats, it was a date of MOTHERS. Nineteen glorious, beautiful, hilarious and FUNNY members of the Irish Parenting Bloggers met up at the Irish Blog Awards in Clane. It was possibly the rowdiest Ma Date I have ever been on, but my Jesus it was good fun.
I was the worst behaved of everyone who attended.
I blame my nerves and over-excitement, but all I know is, before dessert was served, this Mama was falling arse over tits at the dinner table. Multiple Times.
Then, I danced shamefully, and tried to drag some very young girls up onto the dance floor, screaming “You only live once! Sure lookit me! I’m a MA!”. They declined. Multiple Times.
I drank shots, I spilled shots, I kissed all the women at my table, and a few at the next. I hugged the world, told them all I loved them. Multiple Times.
When Kate and Niamh decided it was time for me to go home (it was, we were the only people left), I threw a strop and then we crashed another party where there were computer people dancing to eighties music. We joined in.
While there is no denying that the hangover and giant fear cloud that I dealt with yesterday was a grave, grave punishment for my antics on Saturday night, it was GAS. I met women who I have admired for years, and it was so gratifying to know that they are as deadly, if not more so, than in real life.
Before I went on my online date I was moaning to my sister on the phone, telling her I was all scared and moany. “Shut up, you wagon”, she said. “It’s the way forward. You and those mas are paving the way”.
Truth. All truth. And we are all lovely, and normal, and hilarious. But next time, I might go a bit easier on the sherry…