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Recovering

20 May, 2005
Posted in: Family, Princess

We’re all much better. Well, Mr. Waffle is but you will, I know, be upset to hear that my paper cut injury is causing lingering difficulties and poor old Princess despite an excellent day yesterday was sick again this afternoon.

Mr. Waffle’s parents arrived yesterday. We did some preparatory work on the way home from the creche last night.
Me: Who’s coming to visit us this evening?
Princess: Grandma et Grandad.
Me: Is that nice?
Princess: Yes.
Me: What are you going to say to them?
Princess: Present for me?
Granparents duly arrived and were greeted with great delight. They did, of
course, bring a present. And they have more stashed away to give out during the weekend should their popularity show any signs of flagging. So, today, instead of going to the creche, the Princess bonded with her grandparents. I think they were a little concerned that she might be upset at the prospect of being left at home but they needn’t have worried. She happily kissed us good bye and rushed back to the grandparents. As we went out the door she was spinning in circles with an empty box on her head while hurling magnetic letters round the room.  Alas, although she had an
excellent morning, our poor mite was again sick in the afternoon and her poor grandparents were covered in vomit and spent some time devoming the bathroom. What is wrong with our angel? Worrying no?
Comments
belgianwaffleon 21 May 2005 at 11:42

Thanks Bob, grandparents are already doing the child minding thing and she seems fine again…

poggleon 23 May 2005 at 11:38

Poor Princess.
Her ‘present for me?’ reminds me of my niece when she was little. She was asked if would like a slice of pizza. ‘Yes’, she said. ‘Magic word?’, says Mum. Frowns. Thinks hard. Light dawns. ‘Now??’

belgianwaffleon 25 May 2005 at 11:12

SUPERB Pog.

Stalked by illness

18 May, 2005
Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Me

Pregnancy related maladies
Return of rash leading to scabrous arms and legs (thankfully the weather is not such as to encourage baring of same)
Sore toe (no sniggering – last night while rushing to the aid of my howling infant, I stubbed my toe and today I am limping pitifully)
Industrial accident (painful paper cut on top of middle finger making typing
excrutiating)
Mr. Waffle
Sore neck (leading to a certain stiffness in bearing)
Headache
Princess
Has for three nights in a row thrown up in the middle of the night. She has no other symptoms. No temperature. Nothing. Last night when I picked her out of her cot she said she was sick and we rushed to the bathroom where she dutifully threw up. Though obviously worried that she was ill, I was pleased that I had explained to her that if she felt sick it was a good idea to go to the bathroom; particularly since our supply of clean bedding was nearly exhausted.   In my triumph, about the controlled vomitting incident I had forgotten that my daughter is like her father – very cautious.  So for the next hour my loving husband and I took it in turns to sit with her on the bathroom floor. Every time we tried to persuade her back to her bed or ours she said piteously “dans la salle de bain”. Anyway eventually she went back to bed and slept for the rest of the night and this morning she seemed fine, though a bit tired and crabby. Alas, this evening, she was not fine when I picked her up from the creche.  The new person said she had spent most of the day lying on the floor with Hop Hop crying. She had her nap and ate her lunch and didn’t have a temperature and when questioned said she was not sick but sad. I am a bit annoyed that they didn’t call us. I mean, she’s only 2 she may not be fully au fait with the difference between existential angst and feeling nauseous and tired.  Anyhow I brought her down to the car and strapped her in and she said “Sick Mummy” so I rapidly unstrapped her and she threw up all over the pavement. Poor mite. She was anxious that I should clean up the pavement but I held back. When we got home she was sick again and she’s now gone to bed where I hope she will recover before her paternal grandparents arrive tomorrow. I must say, it makes me feel very sad to think of my baby girl lying on the floor crying while I was quiet at work and could easily have taken a half day and brought her home. This working mother thing can be trying.
Comments
beachhutman

on 19 May 2005 at 08:49

Yeah, hope it comes out well.
That could have been put in a more felicitous way I guess.

Minkleberry

on 19 May 2005 at 09:09

awww poor little girl. But what control. I still don’t quite make it to the toilet everytime I’m sick!

poggle

on 19 May 2005 at 10:42

Oh dear.
Poor mite does seem to have a v delicate stomach …..

kat

(Homepage)

on 19 May 2005 at 22:02

My goodness…sending you get well vibes asap!

belgianwaffle

on 20 May 2005 at 18:16

Aw thank you all for good health wishes. So far they only seem to be really working for my loving husband but he is very grateful..

dmts

on 20 May 2005 at 18:26

Oh it is pitiful – ‘not sick but sad’. Poor princess – may she be up and telling you all to fuck off before too long

belgianwaffle

on 21 May 2005 at 11:42

Thanks HJB. How did the furry animal grilling go?

dmts

on 21 May 2005 at 15:35

they grilled neither small fluffy animals or children. The fluffies were there to be pretty and the grilled stuff was sausages.

belgianwaffle

on 25 May 2005 at 11:10

Disappointing H.

Rash in Cork

29 March, 2005
Posted in: Boys, Family

All in all a little tiring. On Thursday afternoon following three medical consultations, I decided to go with the majority and risk travelling.  I paid a fortune to get to Cork over Easter and I wasn’t going to let a rash stop me (no poor puns, please).

You will be delighted to hear that my rash has improved enormously, thus, obviously, vindicating my decision to travel. This morning I had the stitches taken out of my neck so I spent today loping around the office like Frankenstein’s monster. It is, of course, absolutely forbidden to cover up my scars with a scarf or a polo neck. Snort. Also, I can’t get my neck wet for 48 hours. Good lord. And all this to find out that they don’t know what it was but isn’t it good that it’s getting better of its own accord. Double snort.

So, epic journey to Cork. It took us the best part of a day to get there and the same length of time to get back.  My sister who came home from Chicago actually got back there faster than we got to Brussels. Of course she was actually flying for most of her trip whereas we spent the vast bulk of ours sampling the many delights which Dublin airport offers.
Actual time in Cork was very pleasant with babysitting services on high alert and significant food supplies laid in to meet our needs. On Easter Sunday, Mr. Waffle and I abandoned the Princess to her loving grandparents and went for a walk on the beach and a drink in Ballycotton. All very civilised. We also met the heart surgeon and her husband and their lovely month old baby whom they are managing with alarming efficiency. They have already been to play tennis three times while the infant watched from the sidelines. And they have been to the cinema. I am impressed beyond measure. Alas, they are moving to Burlington, Vermont in June so, I fear, we will see a lot less of them after that. Though, of course, it is probably as easy to get from Brussels to Burlington as it is to get from Brussels to Cork.
Comments
belgianwaffleon 01 April 2005 at 20:10

Am glad to hear that you had a typical trip to Ireland pog. Weather was surprisingly clement over Easter though.

Early promise

5 March, 2005
Posted in: Family, Princess

The other morning the Princess was having her porridge and playing with her letters. We put them all into their slots but, horror, the z was missing. “Mummy, mummy, missing z!” “Well, never mind, sweetie, it’ll turn up.” Sad shake of the royal head “Z lost mummy, find the z mummy.” Off we went, z-less, to the creche and work respectively and, on our return home the Princess skipped off to her toys. Almost immediately she ran over to me shrieking in delight “Mummy, I find the missing z” and waving the lost z enthusiastically. Our genius.

In other news, my parents still have no heating. The fifth man to look at the parental boiler blew it up. Also the house is elderly and the wiring is not all it might be, so my mother was watching the telly the other night with the electric and blow heaters on and a hot water bottle at her feet and she suddenly found herself plunged into darkness and had to wrestle with fuses. Weather shows no sign of clearing either. Much grimness in Cork. And finally, thank you to my greatest fan who emailed me the following
“You haven’t had a blog entry since 23 February. Is all ok. Not like you. Your
public is v. disappointed.”
I feel loved!
Comments
dmtson 06 March 2005 at 19:40Now I feel mean for not bothering to send you an email.
Do you think the princess stole the letter Z from the creche? No…I’m sorry – I shouldn’t apply my dirty low-down standards to other peoples’ children.
belgianwaffle on 10 March 2005 at 09:42HJB, FT, you clearly just don’t care as much as my other friend. Yes, HJB, it is quite likely that she stole the Z from the creche…

Round-up

23 February, 2005
Posted in: Family, Princess, Reading etc.

Sitting in the back of the car with her menagerie, the Princess picks up a soft toy and holds it up to the window “Look, Sheepsie, a blue van”.  Anxious to ensure fairness in all things, she then picks up a bear and presses its little nose to the window “Oh, Isabelle, a tram, look, look”. Finally, she waves doggy in the direction of the window “Doggy, see, lots of cars”

This email from a friend:
Thought of you the other day when reading about Noel Coward – he met a friend at a party – “we don’t have time to talk about each of us so we’ll just talk about me”

My parents’ heating has died.  They have been cold for a week. It is snowing in Cork. Four men have already shaken their heads at
the parental boiler. They’re getting a blow heater and a draft proof front door tomorrow.

Comments
jackdalton

on 25 February 2005 at 17:11

No problem there on equality and distributed love!
Your friend is cruel.
Poor parents. A heating system that doesn’t is among life’s greatest find something to kick incentives.

belgianwaffle

on 05 March 2005 at 15:03

Well, pog, she has time.
JD, well, yes, cruel but not, I confess, entirely inaccurate.

Festivities

6 January, 2005
Posted in: Family

Well, we’re all sick now. Mr. Waffle is snuffling with the rest of us. It’s pathetic. Let us relive the Christmas idyll for a comforting warming glow.

17 December saw us heading for home. Our departure from Brussels coincided with heavy rain and the conclusion of what we locals call the “Eurotop”. This involves 25 heads of state having their own escort to the airport with outriders and a large part of town being sealed off from the common populace with portable barbed wire (a Belgian speciality).  These people are always wittering on about “bringing Europe closer to the citizen” but I have to tell you, they certainly don’t mean any citizens who might be near them.  So with the rain and the Eurotop, the traffic was murder and we only got to the airport just in time and the taxi ride cost 70 euros which is about twice the normal amount.  A certain amount of unhappiness was felt.

However, once safely back in Ireland all was very rosy. The Princess was delighted to be reunited with her royal grandparents and practised her new enlarged vocabulary on them (“Present for Princess?”). Our Christmas bash with Gaza M and Bosnia R in their house passed off splendidly. We caught up with loads of people including a couple we used to know in Brussels.  He is Irish and she is French and they have a small baby. For the first time, she is spending Christmas away from Brittany. His family have decided to make the experience unforgettable for her by, in the case of his brother, decamping to New Zealand, in the case of his sister, remaining in distant Sligo and in the case of his mother, leaving for California but not before giving them a large goose for Christmas dinner. Ms. Bretagne regarded the goose with great dubiety and pointed out that as there were only going to be four people for Christmas dinner, one of whom was not yet on solids, it was perhaps a little large. Let us hope that all passed off well, but I feel that even as I write, goose still forms a large part of the family diet.

We met a good friend of Mr. Waffle’s who is just about to start work as Professor of Very Hard Law in an English University. She announced that she had just developed a terrible addiction, she had read her first Georgette Heyer and was hooked. The fabulousness of that. She and I spent a comfortable 45 minutes talking about the queen of the regency romance (and I am NOT talking Barbara Cartland here, so stop smirking) while Mr. Waffle looked on in dazed awe.

And Mr. Waffle’s father and particularly his mother babysat like troopers despite the later’s broken wrist.  She took the Princess round to the neighbours.  Her highness treated retired judges and famous authors’ parents (such are the kind of neighbours you get in south County Dublin) with the same loving attention as she did her grandparents, rushing into their houses and saying “Present for Princess? OPEN!” So successful was the babysitting that Mr. Waffle’s father got carried away and offered to babysit overnight.  I thanked him but said no because she still wakes up during the night. He said not to worry about that because although he is a very sound sleeper himself, Mr. Waffle’s mother would certainly be able to get up.  Hmm.

Then on to Cork where the Princess was greeted by another set of devoted slaves and the Princess’s parents by a digital camera.  Yay. More babysitting.  More gallivanting.  Down to the sea to inspect the heart surgeon’s new house.   Lucky old heart surgeon.  But she is sick as a dog, poor thing. Being pregnant doesn’t entirely agree with her.  Nevertheless, lovely view below:

Delighted to see my Chicago sister for the first time in a year.  She looked very glam.  Told her so.  What, I asked, is the secret of your glamness? Wow, that girl’s routine is a killer. She asked me when I had last set my eyebrows. Eh? Apparently it only takes 5 minutes but doesn’t she realise that this time could be spent sleeping? I feel combining glamour and motherhood could be a challenge. Anyway she snuck her way into the Princess’s affections by holding her upside down whenever she saw her and the Princess is now obsessed with her Cork aunty.  When we left Cork, I explained that her aunty was going back to America on an aeroplane.  The next day when we flew back to Brussels, she paced the corridor of the plane looking for her aunty and doubtless spreading disease.

Look, I know this is dull, but having a good time makes for dull material.  Let me tell you about 3 o’clock this morning when Mr. Waffle was trying to sing the Princess back to sleep with a number called “savez-vous planter les choux?”.  The trick is that you must try to plant the cabbage with a different part of the body at every verse (that’s the French for you, don’t blame me). It took her a long time to get to sleep.  This morning I said to my loving husband “what a dreadful night”.  “Humph” he said “at least you weren’t planting cabbages with your ears at 3.30 this morning”.  I suppose we must take comfort where we can.

Comments
belgianwaffle

on 07 January 2005 at 12:11

And you Americans rule the world? My God what would you be able to do if you had portable barbed wire as well? GASP.

Bobble

on 07 January 2005 at 12:49

*mind boggles* Good stuff there W.

belgianwaffle

on 07 January 2005 at 21:43

Bobble, you are kind.

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