Referendum Results Day

For the weekend that's innit, I thought I'd write about the dangers of threesomes and their impact on Mna na hEireann.  The very Mna that were lauded by the 'No' campaign for their all round brilliantness. This Ban an Ti to be specific.

I had a busy day yesterday.  Like many people, I woke with excitement and anticipation about the outcome of the Marriage Referendum referendum.  And like many other people, I spent the day with spontaneous sobbing.  The twinnies expressed concern at first, but soon started to roll their eyes at the appearance of the tears and me repeating what a momentous day it was. 'Here she goes again', I could hear them think, 'She is on her soap box again'.  They both agreed that I shouldn't start crying in Lidl, fearing that I'd make a show of them in front of someone they know.

I brought the pair of them to a work related dinner in the Keadeen Hotel in Newbridge, the hotel described by Leon as 'the one where we caught the chickenpox'. (A few years ago, at a similar dinner, Leon was unwell and woke the next morning covered in spots, with Mya following suite a few hours later).

It was late when we got home.  'It's almost midnight kids !', I said urging them into their beds.  'Please don't mention the 'M' word Mam', said Leon.  I had forgotten about his fear of being awake when the ghouls and goblins came out at the witching hour - I blame Michael Jackson's Thriller video that he seen last year.  'It's ages away yet', I said reassuringly, 'you will be well asleep', turning the alarm clock away for fear that he would see how close it actually was.

The pair of them begged to sleep in my bed, which is usually a no-no. Definitely a no-no in my injection nights as I tend to sleep restlessly.  But last night, despite it being one of those nights, I let them in.  They were delighted with themselves, insisting that I lay in the middle of them, so that they could both hug me.  It was more like strangulation.  

One of them wanted the light on, the other off.  Me, I just wanted to look through Twitter and Facebook for referendum news.  No chance.  They both pimped over my shoulder for photos of cute cats/dogs/babies (which have been sadly lacking on d'internet over the last few days).  Phone put away, we had a wrestling match with the duvet.  The children complained that they were too hot/cold.  Mya said her her feet were   'too hot', but that her head was 'too cold'.  Leon likes an old back scratch and I did the needful til my fingers hurt.  'More Mam, please', he said.  'You will have no skin left on your back soon !'. 'I don't care Mam', sez he, purring like a cat. They both flung their legs around me and then jostled over whose idea it was first and who should therefore claim more of my leg.  They rowed over whose body parts were straying over to the other persons 'side'.  The arguments were as rigorous as the Marriage Referendum debate and made as much sense as the 'No' side.  

The usual Mammy disciplinary words had no impact on the two overtired little people.  I resorted to bribery.  'I'll give you both 50 cents if you don't say another word and do to sleep'.  I expected to be bargaining upwards for sometime, but no, 50 cents was acceptable.  They remembered the 'paper money' that my friends father had given them earlier.  They were quids in.  They were also wrecked.  Finally, the pace of their breath changed and they were asleep. 

I resurrected my phone, reduced the brightness and had a scroll through  the happenings of the day.  I had no more tears left.  I had to concentrate on avoiding kicks, spontaneous swipes/digs from a stray hand/ elbow and wrestling for a section of the duvet.  'Is that a cat Mam ?', said Mya, not asleep after all.  I closed my phone, leaving Panti Bliss and the sea of rainbows for another day.