belgianwaffle

Princess

Nervous


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

I had lunch with a friend yesterday and she asked me how I had told my children about the Trump presidency. “I kind of let them draw their own conclusions,” I said.

But on foot of that I was talking to them this evening and asked them what they thought. They started to sing “Duck and Cover“. This is a song which we heard when we visited the war museum in Caen a couple of years ago and it has stayed with us for its hilarious understatement of the effects of a nuclear bomb. It’s from a US public safety video from the 1950s. Herself stopped singing and said, “But now we know that hiding under school desks is not going to save us from the nuclear bomb.”

“Well,” I said, “remember [very tall Dutch friend] who works inspecting nuclear power generators?” “Yeah,” she said, “sitting under the desk is definitely not going to work for him.” “No, no, it’s just that he said that radiation goes for the thyroid and the most serious damage is done straight after the blast. If you take iodine tablets straight away, then your chances of survival are pretty good.”

Reassuring. I thought you would like to know. I think I was right that the children had drawn their own conclusions about the Trump presidency though.

Bitter, Bitter, Bitter


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

The boys found the classic “Owl Babies” on the bookshelf.  It’s the story of three baby owls waiting for their mother to come home.  Looking through it, Daniel said “They’re like us; an older girl, a middle boy and a younger boy.”  They looked nostalgically at the illustrations for a while, then Michael piped up, “Not really, because the eldest owl isn’t playing on her mobile phone.”

The Princess got a phone as an early Christmas present from her uncle and aunt and we have not determined what the rules are about usage and into this vacuum has seeped 24 hour usage by herself and an ocean of bitterness on the part of her brothers.  Not our finest parenting hour, something will have to be done.  Sigh.

Learning Opportunities 


Posted in: Princess

Herself: We are doing the renaissance in history.
Me: Oh yes?
Her: I know loads of renaissance sculptors and painters but I never get to mention them.
Me: And why is that?
Her: Because whenever the history teacher asks us to name renaissance artists, she says, “Remember the turtles!”

Raifteirí Prepares to Hand Over the Reins


Posted in: Princess

Herself has won a poetry prize. She wrote a 1916 poem in Irish for a school competition and the teacher asked me if she could submit it to a national competition. I said that she could and herself won second prize. She was very pleased. There was an awards ceremony in Killarney last week but it was beyond us to get her down there; as she said dolefully, “This is what happens to the children of working parents.” However, they are going to send the cheque for €100 in the post. As I pointed out to her, I am sure that actual Irish language poets would regard that as a substantial part of their annual income. I am perhaps stereotyping the profession of Irish language poet as one that is not particularly well remunerated.

The boys are consumed with envy.

Surprising


Posted in: Princess, Reading etc.

2016 is the year that keeps on giving in this regard, is it not?

I was away last night for work so I woke in my hotel room to the news that Donald Trump is to be president of the US. It seems extraordinary that the people who gave us 8 years of Barack Obama have now given us Donald Trump.

In other current affairs news, the Princess, who confidently expected her teachers to be on strike for weeks, was gutted when we got a text message at 9.30 last night saying that the school was reopening today. She is still readjusting to the new reality. Aren’t we all?

Punishing


Posted in: Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

I took the day off work today. This week was mid-term and the children were at home. Well, herself was on a course, but the boys were at home. I think she enjoyed her course but it was quite tiring; it was film making and it seemed to involve a lot of hanging around on set. She told me an interesting thing though. They had a make-up guy in and he mentioned that when making up women, he always makes them up to look good first and then adds cuts and bruises or skulls and blood (they were making a horror film). And apparently this is what happens when they are making real films as well which I think explains a lot.

Anyhow, it was a beautiful day. I decided to take the boys up the Sugar Loaf. They were not delighted. “Why,” said Michael bitterly, “are we being punished?” Apparently his father had told him that he could stay in bed all day – something Mr. Waffle denies. Anyhow, they came, resignedly.

It was lovely and even the boys found it moderately enjoyable. We had a picnic at the top.

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It was somewhat windy and chilly but the views were good.

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The boys are both faster and fitter than me but I made it down eventually, only slipping and falling over a couple of times (not particularly painful as on grass on the lower reaches but the mortification was considerable). Daniel was travelling at my slower pace and was very solicitous. I felt about 90. We came home about 4 and lit a fire and did nothing for the rest of the day which was pleasing for all of us.

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And imagine, today is only Friday, I have the whole weekend at home stretching out ahead of me. And Mr. Waffle who, alas, is going to have to work this weekend (his deadline is Wednesday and each member of our little family is counting the days), has promised to take time out to take Daniel to his match tomorrow morning and let me stay in bed. Oh hurrah. Yes, I know, he’s a saint; isn’t he lucky he married someone who really appreciates saintliness.