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Princess

Happy Thanksgiving! Happy Hanukkah!

28 November, 2013
Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess

This morning the Princess sang out from her bedroom “Happy Thanksgiving, happy Hanukkah!” As I dragged myself from my bed, I said to Mr. Waffle, “Americans can stay in bed and eat turkey today: sequentially not simultaneously.” “Well, he said for every American B eating turkey, there is an American A getting up early to put it in the oven.” If you are American A, I salute you.

At breakfast, the Princess announced, “I think we should be more intercultural and celebrate Hanukkah.” She added for the benefit of her brothers, “It’s a Jewish festival and you get presents every day for 12 days.” We will not be celebrating Hanukkah, despite special pleading but a happy Hanukkah to you,if you are and good luck with that present buying regime.

Lydia’s Tragedy

26 November, 2013
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins

The Princess and I are going with her aunt to see Pride and Prejudice in the theatre. It is the Gate Theatre Christmas production and it’s always something undemanding for all the family. A couple of years ago they did Little Women and the Princess and I went. It was her first grown-up theatre experience and it was absolutely magical.

Co-incidentally a friend of hers from school is going to the same performance. She and her friend have thrown themselves into diligent preparation which extends to creating a list identifying everyone in the class with a character from the novel [Mr. Darcy, alas, remains uncast]. It also involves reading the novel which I would have thought was a stretch but they seem to be enjoying it. We were talking about it at dinner this evening.

Me: How are you getting on with Pride and Prejudice?
Her: Lydia has just eloped with Mr. Wickham.
Me: Oh vile Lydia.
Her: Mrs. Forrester should have taken better care of her.
Me: Oh, I don’t know, surely, it’s Lydia’s parents fault that she’s so badly brought up.
Her: Well, she is only 15.
Daniel: I think Lydia is very lucky.
Me: Why is that, sweetheart?
Daniel: Only three more years and she’ll be old enough to play Halo.
Herself: Oh Daniel, Pride and Prejudice was published in 1813.
Daniel: So?
Mr. Waffle: Lydia will never be able to play Halo.

Overdoing It

24 November, 2013
Posted in: Family, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Some time ago, I agreed with my sister that I would drive down to Cork with her. I did that yesterday. Mr. Waffle had previously arranged to go and see Ireland play the All-Blacks today (particularly distressing defeat for Ireland, since you ask).

I needed to be back in Dublin by 12 today to facilitate Mr. Waffle’s departure to the match. “No problem,” I said. I didn’t realise when I blithely agreed to this that I was going to be ill this weekend. And then, it was only subsequently I realised that everyone in Munster was also going to the match. I managed to just about secure a ticket on the 8.00 train (change at Mallow) for €32.99 one way. When I got on the train was heaving with polite rugby supporters and the reserved seat signs weren’t working so there was much jostling for position. Polite jostling. I sat beside a polite New Zealander (a happy man tonight, I assume). There was no tea on the tea trolley and I had the dubious pleasure of forking out €2.50 for a cup of boiling water (for my lemsip).

I was collected from the station by Mr. Waffle and the children and we proceeded to mass. The Princess did her second reading with considerable aplomb once she realised that her moment had come (this was proceeded by a frantic scuttling up the aisle on my part and a hissing to her to go up – apparently her friend A had already said “Go on, it’s now, you idiot” so my intervention was as embarrassing as it was unnecessary). She had a great reading, it was a long one and it contains this line which is a good one: “for in him were created all things in heaven and on earth: everything visible and everything invisible, Thrones, Dominations, Sovereignties, Powers – all things were created through him and for him.” Daniel has joined the choir, so he was up at the front of the church with his sister and Michael was left sitting with his father and me.

As I have covered previously, Michael does not like going to mass. It lasts forever and it is precious time from the weekend. He walked to the church with dragging footsteps complaining of a sore leg. He counted the seconds at mass until he had got to 15 minutes and asked was it over yet. It was not. I do understand. Some of the longest hours of my life have been spent in mass as a small child (and it was only 40 minutes then). But he is not pleased. It was this Sunday that the parish priest chose to say in his sermon – “We don’t come to mass because we must. We don’t come to mass because we are forced to do so to be good Catholics.” Michael began to protest, all too audibly that that was exactly why he came to mass. He folded his arms and glowered at his father and me in turn.

It did end eventually and Michael was keen to return to his home. On the way home, the neighbours asked Dan in to play with their middle child who is a great friend of his due to their continual excursions to GAA matches and training together. “Sure,” I said. “We’re going out at 2.30,” said the friend’s mother, “Is that ok?” “Fine,” I said. We were dropping Mr. Waffle to the rugby match; news which Michael greeted with prolonged howls of outrage “I want to go home to my own house.” We were slightly late, traffic was heavy, Mr. Waffle likes to be punctual, no one had had lunch, Michael continued to recount his woes loudly and sniffly, I was conscious of our deadline at the other end when the neighbours needed to drop Dan back and my lemsip was wearing off. It was a tense car journey though in the end, Mr. Waffle was on time, we were on time and Michael got home.

When we got home, Daniel discovered that his Christmas list had gone missing and needed to be found immediately. Michael couldn’t open the milk bottle which needed to be opened immediately. Herself looking at me trailing around the house miserably still in my coat with my overnight bag in the hall said, “Mum, would you like me to make lunch?” Which she did, very competently. I’m beginning to feel that those teenage years may not be as bad as everyone says they will be.

I’m still sick as a dog but a quiet afternoon at home has done much to restore me. We had a particularly thrilling game of ludo.

There are More Things on Heaven and Earth, Horatio

18 November, 2013
Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Daniel got to read a prayer of the faithful for the first time on Sunday which he did with aplomb, accuracy and great bravery [and speed]. Meanwhile Michael was off at the children’s session where he was busy looking for proof of the existence of Jesus. Apparently, the woman in charge told him that the Romans were terrific record keepers which may not be a theologically accurate response but did the job as far as I was concerned until his sister said, “Well, of course, we know he existed from Roman records but whether he was the Messiah or some kind of mad man remains unclear.” “If only we could travel back into the past and check like the Termoonator,” said Michael. “I think you mean the Terminator,” I said. “Is he a cow?” asked Michael.

A Lot of Lemon Meringue

15 November, 2013
Posted in: Princess

Herself made lemon meringue. No one need go hungry. I would post a photo but the technology is being uncooperative. Not a classic post but it’s 11.15 on a Friday night after a long week.

Updated to add – the lemon meringue:
image

People Who Have Minded My Children

12 November, 2013
Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

When herself was born, we were living abroad. This meant that there were usually no family members about to mind our children, so we entrusted them to a range of strangers, broadly successfully. However, I have been trying to make a list of all the people who have minded my children but I just can’t remember, which is something of a failure, I concede.

Herself was only minded by family (mostly her parents) until she went to the creche at about six months at which point the lovely Rachida minded her but then she progressed to Maëlle and then went upstairs to the big children and didn’t have anyone in particular that I can remember.

We also entrusted her for a weekend to Genia our Polish cleaner just before the boys were born. We escaped to Paris. When we came back herself could sing Frère Jacques in Polish.

When the boys were born we hired Charity to mind them. We entered into an immensely and, in retrospect, unnecessary rigmarole where they went to the crèche a couple of days a week and were minded by Charity on other days. I have, sadly, no real memory of who minded the boys in the crèche. Herself, as a big 2 and a half year old, had already started school at this point (Madame Marie, Madame Tatiane, Madame Valerie and Madame Christine in that order). Charity, from the Philippines, was organised and sensible and kept our flat immaculate – although there was an awkward conversation about long distance phone calls at one point – but the children weren’t particularly fond of her, I feel. We had two other Filipina babysitters for odd evenings or emergencies and they were both much more popular. Maybe it’s easier to be popular, if you’re not doing the day in/day out work.

It was around this time that we got an evening babysitter who came every Saturday. This was Katja who was a lovely, gentle French girl from Collioure, studying art but comic book art. Welcome to Belgium. When she left, we nearly cried and she gave us a couple of bottles of wine from her brother’s vineyard.

When we came back to Ireland, I decided that we would try to get French babysitters to mind the children to keep up their French. This has been somewhat mocked but I think it has worked quite well, though I would concede that turnover has been an issue.

The boys started in a crèche chosen by their grandparents and they really liked it. In fact they still speak nostalgically about it occasionally especially the morning that the electricity went down and they had croissants for breakfast. They were minded there by a terrifying Romanian woman called Monica whom they adored.

For picking up from school/creche duty, we started with three students who shared the job between them. Not maybe a great model and not terrifically successful. I can’t quite remember their names off-hand which is never good. Then we had Florence for about a year. I quite liked her though she always seemed a bit tired – she had another job in the mornings. I think it was on her watch that Michael was snatched from under an approaching tram. An event so exciting that all three children recounted it to me in technicolour detail. She handed over to Melanie. Melanie was terrific. She was a brilliant cook and always doing things with the children. And she was in Ireland for the foreseeable future. But then her boyfriend lost his job and they decided to go back to France. Alas. Then there was Odile who was practical but they did not love her. And then she left for France early for reasons I cannot now recall and we had Magali for 6 weeks whom they all cordially loathed. Around this time we had Julia doing our evening babysitting and she was very beloved and she loved them. But yes, she went back to France – actually to Berlin to be with her boyfriend but it was all the one to us.

From September 2011 to June 2012 we had Lauriane and she was terrific. When reminded of her existence recently, Daniel cried [not welcome, as such, obviously, but just shows how much they liked her]. Flexible, obliging, reliable, punctual, quite strict, very dutiful and much loved by the children. And, as a bonus, she made them speak French. Friday 29 June 2012 was her last day. Sad sigh. On the plus side, barring disaster, our evening babysitter, C, will not be returning to France as she has made her home here.

For the first time, from September 2012 to June 2013, we had a man, Thomas. He was amazingly good at folding clothes. Also, they all really liked him and he was obliging and conscientious. Another one that we are sad to see go. The children are becoming annoyed about turnover. I did hope that Thomas might come back to us in September but alas, it turned out that he had to eat and he found another job.

So we started with Ana in September. So far so good. She has another job in the morning and she sometimes looks exhausted when we get home. She is half Spanish and rather warmer or different I suppose to our usual cohort. The Princess is exhausted by Ana’s interest in her doings (“She’s always asking me, how was my day in school, what am I reading?”) having grown used to a different cultural regime.

I’ve just realised, that I’ve done all this before. I’m pleased to see that I am reasonably consistent. Although I did completely forget Aliette who was rather good.

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