belgianwaffle

Archives for December 2006

More blogstreaking tomorrow


Posted in: Siblings

PARIS (AFP) – The Internet has given birth to a quirky range of modern addictions and maladies, the British weekly New Scientist says in its Christmas issue.

They include these:

– EGO-SURFING: When you frequently check your name and reputation on the Internet.

– BLOG STREAKING: “Revealing secrets or personal information online which for everybody’s sake would be best kept private.”

– CRACKBERRY: “The curse of the modern executive: not being able to stop checking your BlackBerry, even at your grandmother’s funeral.” (A BlackBerry is a popular handheld device that can be used for phoning, emailing and web-browsing).

– GOOGLE-STALKING: Defined as “snooping online on old friends, colleagues or first dates.”

– CYBERCHONDRIA: “A headache and a particular rash at the same time? Extensive online research tells you it must be cancer.”

– PHOTOLURKING: Flicking through a photo album of someone you’ve never met.

– WIKIPEDIHOLISM: Excess devotion to contributing to the online collaborative encyclopaedia, Wikipedia. (Wikipedia even has a page where you can test whether you’re an addict: (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wik…ic-Test)).

– CHEESEPODDING: Downloading of a song “so cheesy that you could cover it in plastic wrap and sell it at the deli counter.” Cheesepodders are especially vulnerable to soft-rock favourites from the 1970s.

I emailed my sister and told her she was a crackberry. Her instant response was “Yes, I know, blogstreaker”.

Baby boys – update


Posted in: Boys

Daniel says “that” and points when he wants something. At bath time he says words which his loving mother interprets as “the bath” but his loving father refuses to concur. I feel he is getting closer and closer to talking. He repeats sounds all the time He loves to be read to and is constantly crawling up to me holding out books hopefully. He continues to maintain his bulk while eating nothing. If you’re dieting, may I advise? That full fat milk is a killer. He is normally solemn but has a lovely chuckle when he laughs.

Michael will eat almost anything. On Christmas day, after dinner he slumped in his seat looking sated with his little belly hanging over the straps. On the train to Cork he ate two large slices of ham. He’s unstoppable. He cruises and stands and flies up stairs (whereas Daniel is more ponderous at all these things – he has more weight to carry and gravity to maintain). He is immensely charming and smiles winningly at people holding him (random strangers in the airport, family members) when he is not biting them or hitting them on their heads. He is really excellent at throwing a ball, a skill his sister has still to master.

Yesterday, the boys and I took the train to Cork together leaving the Princess and Mr. Waffle to spend an extra day in Dublin. I was amazed how well it went. They were very good on the train. They took arrival at another new establishment in their stride and patiently let themselves be passed around various relatives. A number of friends visited that afternoon also and again, all was calm as they were passed from stranger to stranger. I am surprised. It was not thus with the Princess. But then that night they woke every half hour – Daniel, in particular was a nightmare – perhaps not so relaxed after all.

Louse update


Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Mr. Waffle pulled 18 dead bodies from the Princess’s head yesterday.  This is the third application of the patented remedy. They love her.  It’s mutual.  On Christmas morning, she asked anxiously  “will there be presents for the little animals that live in my hair?”  Alas, no.  Just death and destruction.  Lice get very little of the Christmas spirit.  My sister-in-law the publishing exec who has glossy hair reaching well below her shoulders was a little alarmed to find the Princess poking and peering at it and only mildly relieved to hear her highness announce “I’m looking for animals in your hair but I can’t find any”.
On Christmas morning, with considerable effort, we managed to get the whole family to mass.  Mr. Waffle looked round dolefully and said “I know these people, they look like me, they sound like me and I know what they’re thinking, they’re my tribe; I can just never afford to live near them”.  Since you ask, yes, the Dublin housing market continues buoyant.  The children’s mass also presented the spectacle of a number of kiddies on the altar whose birthdays were in December.  Girls too; I’m sure the pope would be appalled, if he knew.  The priest asked “what’s your name?” “Jack” said the scion of the middle classes. “And when’s your birthday?”, he continued “I don’t know” said Jack who obviously hasn’t been hothoused as much as other candidates.  The next child did a little better, his name was Adam.  “And when’s your birthday?” asked the priest. “I was born tomorrow” said Adam proudly.  Do you think they all got lice for their birthdays?

Lousy


Posted in: Family

We travelled back to Ireland yesterday and the journey was utterly hideous.  Huge queues in Brussels airport meant that we were still edging through security at the moment our flight was due to take off.  The Princess was difficult, casting herself on the ground sobbing thus creating the very real risk that we would lose our place in the mob or queue.  Mr. Waffle was grinding his teeth and the boys were howling.  When we got to security, we had this liquid in plastic bags business and we had to fold the buggy and put it through the machine and I had to take off my boots (stupid footwear choice).  Ah yes, the war on tourism, continues.

Safely through security we legged it to our flight, me carrying herself, Mr. Waffle pushing the boys and our mountain of handluggage.  Once on the plane (yay!), the flight was full without a single empty seat.  We were sitting in 3A, 3B and accross the aisle 3D.  We can’t sit together as there are only 4 oxygen masks for every three seats.  I asked the matronly immaculately dressed woman in 3C whether she would like to sit by the window “No, I prefer the aisle and I’ve already had to move to accommodate you”.  Not entirely sure why this should be the case but it meant that we had this large cranky lady sitting in the middle of our family group.  At one level I sympathise, but would it have killed her to have smiled?  For the duration of the flight, I had to keep Michael and the Princess from disturbing her (near impossible) and Mr. Waffle and I had to keep passing supplies across her, which she clearly enjoyed immensely.  If it hadn’t been for a lovely woman in the row behind distracting Michael and the Princess with the odd game of peekaboo, I might have lost my life.

While I was balefully contemplating the large newspaper reading, perfectly coiffed, mohair clad, ray of sunshine at the end of the row, something caught my eye.  Dear God in heaven, oh yes, those were enormous lice wending their merry way up and down the Princess’s fringe.  My immediate comfort was the knowledge that they were very likely to be attracted to the large mohair lady.

The flight finally ended and the mohair lady turned to the Princess and said “you were such a good little girl on the flight, would you like this?” and gave her an enormous gingerbread heart and I felt so mean for judging her and also for probably giving her lice for Christmas.

We are now holed up with my marvellous in-laws for the Christmas season.  It is babysitting heaven here.  And following a full inspection of the Princess’s head which was teeming with life, we have bought anti-lice shampoo (“Lice n’ easy”) and a fine tooth comb.  I also regret to report that adults do get head lice.

I would like to wish you all a safe journey, if you are travelling, and a wonderful and louse free Christmas.  You know that they only like clean hair, don’t you?

Curmudgeonly


Posted in: Reading etc.

A while ago, the fair Dooce was assailed by her many nice middle class readers for laughing at the concept of free range chicken soup. At this point, I would like to remark that I am not in favour of hurting animals, I would like them to lead full happy lives right up to the moment they killed painlessly for me to eat. I sound like I’m being sarcastic, but I’m not.

What struck me forcibly about this is the superior tones that people like to employ when reprimanding on this topic. I regard them as fellow travellers with the green lobby. Yes, I would like to save the planet, really. No, I am not going to stop sending Christmas cards or wrapping Christmas presents because it’s more sustainable. Nor am I going to give my children Christmas presents of goats in Africa or artificial limbs for amputees. It’s not that I don’t think these are good causes, I just don’t think they are good Christmas presents. Dear God, to hear people’s reactions I might as well be advocating the reinstatement of the death penalty. When I drive to work, I get reproving looks. Only the fact that I have two small children to deliver to the creche, saves me from complete disgrace. And sometimes, when I leave the room, I let the light on, oh yes I do.

Do you remember the 1980s (those born since 1983 need not respond) when greens were all people with socks and sandals? Well, now they’ve all been proved right. The London intelligensia love green issues. They fill the papers with it. UK government policy is full of it. EU policy is full of it. Al Gore made a wildly successful film about it. And boy are the environmental lobby (increasingly, I concede, beginning to look like everybody except me, George Bush and a couple of Texas oil billionaires) condescending in victory. They’re always offering patronising tips to the less enlightened like “make sure that you always use all the ink in your biro; if everyone did this then the ice caps wouldn’t be melting”.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to wrap my Christmas presents.

What happened to you?


Posted in: Michael, Siblings

My sister is here for the weekend. She’s visiting from India. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since April. So, you know how it is, I wanted to make a good impression. This must be why the gods saw fit to bless me with conjunctivitis in both eyes. They were hideously bloodshot but, on the plus side that wasn’t very visible because my eyes were mostly obscured by under eye puffiness. The icing on the cake came when Michael decided to head butt me in the eye, thereby giving my right eye puffiness a range of exciting colours. We had a number of Christmas parties this weekend where the first inevitable question was what happened to you? Even the beggars outside the church asked me what happened to me. Alas.

In other sister news, she brought an avalanche of presents, cooked us dinner, minded our children and was generally wonderful. Ah, the joys of outsourcing our childcare to India. She’s finally growing to love India despite her best efforts and, to my utter amazement, she’s thinking of buying a flat near Chandigarh.

She also brought a number of brochures to explain what she does to our mother when she goes on to Cork. These were a source of immense amusement. My sister works for a well-known company that makes a well-know confectionary item which I am sure you have all tasted; let’s pretend it’s called Yummy. She is in charge of a project to bring a particular computer system to the Indian branches of Yummy.  This is how the project logo is described in the newsletter:

“The logo has the colors of the Indian flag (orange, white and green). These are arranged like 3 rivers meeting the Yummy globe. Sangam is a Sanskrit word and signifies the confulence of three most sacred river in India – The holy Ganges, the Ymuna and the mythical Saraswati. This is represented in the logo. Sangam not only signifies the meeting of holy rivers, it also signifies the meeting of millions of people, of ideas and of ancient wisdom.

Sangam also marks the confulence of Yummy India with the rest of the Yummy world, binding the two organisations together with the same culture, processes, policies or in one single religion viz the Yummy way. By virtue of this great objective, this project assumes the same paramount importance for the Yummy world as Sangam for Hindus and hence the title.”

If you ask me, that’s hoping for a lot from sweeties.

And finally, I forgot to mention, my third blogging anniversary passed earlier in the month. Who’d have thought I had the staying power? This must make me a blogging grandmother.