belgianwaffle

Archives for March 2009

From the birth announcements


Posted in: Reading etc.

XX-YY – K and D welcome their beautiful daughter Síabhra-Róise Antònia Elizabeth …. Born safely and gently in water into the loving arms of her mother under the professional eye of homebirth midwife …and to the early morning delight of her brothers …

It’s the proselytising that gets me. The subtext of “not born in a hospital with an epidural, oh no, not for us, and certainly not by cesarean section..we found that with a TENS machine it was all wonderful etc. etc.” Oh the politics of giving birth. I also draw your attention to the innovative use of accents (two Irish, one Spanish) which ensures that this child’s name will never be spelt correctly except, fair dues to the Irish Times, on her birth announcement.

AA and BB – C and J are delighted to announce the birth of our beautiful baby girl, Lady Ruby Mae …. A … little sister for India and Domino.

Do you think Domino is a boy, a girl or something you might wear to a masked ball?

Yeah, I know, it’s easy to mock and if these children’s parents ever find this site, I am doomed. My own brother has described the Princess’s name as just the wrong side of pretentious.

Empathy


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael

Daniel has recently developed a slight rash on his arms coinciding with a spell of renewed cold weather and Michael’s continuing difficulty with his colouring assignments.

Me (rubbing on cream): Are you worried about something sweetheart?
Daniel: Yes.

Michael has gone up the stairs to the bedroom where he is swigging down his bottle (no comments please, no one is more aware than I am that the boys will be 4 and starting school in September) and getting into his pyjamas. I decide, in Michael’s absence, to see whether Michael’s misery is affecting Daniel.

Me: Are you worried about Michael?
Daniel: Yes.

My poor child, anguished about his brother and his brother’s misery.

Me: Why are you worried about Michael?
Daniel (loudly): I’m worried he will take my bottle.

Things that happen to you when you are over 40


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Reading etc.

I have spent the last number of evenings alphabetising our book collection. This is disturbingly entertaining. I may be going insane. In a dull meeting today, I found my mind wandering longingly to the four shelves that then remained to be tackled.

I have a burst blood vessel in my eyeball. It is not an attractive look.

Ireland won the rugby Grand Slam. Alarmingly, I remember when we won the Triple Crown in 1982. Last Sunday afternoon we saw the bus bearing the victorious players and pieces of plate go by while we were stopped at traffic lights. If the children become international rugby stars, we will remind them of this moment – my brother is working hard on their skills, only this evening he had them all practising doing a scrum together.

I am cycling to work and finding that the world of cycling in Dublin is very macho. It’s all men in lycra with high visibility vests and sporting helmets. I miss Brussels where there was a gender mix in the cycling population and all the competitive macho cycling took place deep in Flanders.

I discover that my writing style has started to resemble that of a a TV critic, desperately trying to knit together disparate elements under an unlikely unifying theme.

Chinese whispers


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Princess

Me: What do you want for breakfast?
Daniel: I want some lego.
Me: You can’t eat lego.
Daniel: I want lego you can eat.
Me: There isn’t lego you can eat.
Daniel (fretfully): Yes, there is.
Me (fretfully back): No, there isn’t.
Daniel (weepily): I want lego.
Me (crankily putting it on the table): There, are you happy now?
Daniel (crying): No. I want white round lego with butter.
Me (mystified) to Princess: Have you any idea what he wants?
Her: Yes, he would like a bagel.

Learning


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael

It appears that Michael is not colouring properly. He does not make an effort. His teacher is cross. She told us this and we nodded seriously. She was not deceived. “I know” she said, “that you think it is only colouring, but it is important for concentration, how will he manage in September when there are 27 other children clamouring for the teacher’s attention?” We are planning to start the boys at big school in the autumn where the pupil teacher ratio will go from 6:1 – Montessori to something far less favourable.

Nevertheless, I am finding it hard to care. If his St. Patrick’s Day shamrocks are less coloured in than Daniel’s, well then so be it. With this kind of attitude at home is it any wonder that his colouring reports continue to be poor.

Meanwhile, I discover to my surprise that the boys both recognise numbers 1 – 10 (Daniel somewhat more readily than Michael) and are starting to point to letters and pronounce them phonetically. Clearly, they are learning something at school despite the colouring difficulties Michael encounters. I feel a bit guilty that I have only noticed these talents by the by and have done practically nothing to foster them. Daniel is desperate to start reading and sits running his chubby fingers under the words in books while saying them very slowly (he knows them off by heart). I think that he is trying to unlock the mysteries of his sister’s new reading trick. He sees her spelling them out to herself and thinks that, somehow, if he says the word slowly and runs his finger under it, it will work for him too. Who knows, maybe he’s right.

Reading


Posted in: Reading etc.

Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer

I enjoyed this.  Mortifying disclosure, but there it is.  Lots of plot and free rein is given to the Mormon talent for giving people really odd names (thank you, Kara for the insight into this lesser known Mormon trait, Kenneddee must remain a favourite).

When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit by Judith Kerr

This was recommended to me by a friend. It’s a child’s story about being a refugee and it’s great. Much better, I think than “The Diary of Anne Frank”, this may, partly, be because the narrator is still alive at the end. My edition was somewhat belittled by having exercises for children at the end (how would you have got on with rationing?). I cannot understand why publishers feel this kind of thing will make their offerings more appealing, particularly when they are publishing classics. What next a section at the end of “Pride and Prejudice” – how would you look in an empire line dress? That said, there was a very nice short piece by the author at the end talking about her experience from an adult perspective.

American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld

This is a great book. I read “Prep” when it came out and did not like it much and I was distinctly dubious about this one but it was excellent. It’s very long and it is a wonderful feeling when you are on page 15 of a 500 page book and you know you’re going to love it. It’s an imagined life of Laura Bush using real life incidents. It made me take an interest in Laura Bush for the first time. It also made me sympathise with her and think that it was a pretty invasive book. But good. It is very well written as was “Prep”. Unlike “Prep” the action does not take place exclusively in a small boarding school and for Ms. Sittenfeld’s style, this is a big bonus. She is, I think, slightly obsessed about class in America and, funnily enough, this book has less on that than “Prep” though the immensely lengthy bit on Princeton reunions was, frankly, too much for me. Overall though, this book is fascinating both for the imagined character of the American wife and her relationships with others. I was very sad to finish it. I plan to dig out more of her back catalogue.

End of Term by Antonia Forest

Speaking of back catalogue, I am now actively pursuing Antonia Forest books. When the publishing exec was back recently she rooted round in her bedroom and found a very battered copy of this book (every page has said farewell to the spine but mercifully all still there). I did enjoy it and I do intend to ferret out all the books in the series but I think that the first, fine careless rapture may have worn out. I am fascinated to discover through my internet research that the books were written over about 30 years and although only 2 years of fictional time elapse between the Marlow twins starting out in third remove and moving to upper fourth (I think), the author has blithely set each novel in the time in which it was written. I will report back. You stay on the edges of your seats out there.