belgianwaffle

Archives for September 2009

Rough?


Posted in: Dublin, Siblings

My brother tackled me last weekend about where we live. He has concerns that my children will end up wearing track suits all day every day and on remand in the district court. We had a robust discussion on the influence of parents versus that of peers, the nature of the local peers in what I would call a mixed area and whether it was fair to visit your social notions on your children which ended with one of us flouncing out of the room and banging the door. Isn’t it great the way when you are at your parents’ house you can revert to behaviour that was last given an airing in your teens?

Still, it all gave me pause for further thought. Our parish newsletter this week led with “The Gospel to the Gangland” which didn’t help. Then I went to a local park where F often takes the children. There were a bunch of Slovakian children there who seemed to know mine well. They were nice children and my boys were clearly delighted to see them. They were accompanied by a pleasant man (you know, not let out on their own running wild or anything) but I couldn’t help noticing that he had a tattoo on his neck. Did I not read somewhere that this is an invariable sign of gang membership? Or is it just a sign of a fondness for pain? In short, I feel that I am in territory where my mother never had to venture.

Lending my books


Posted in: Princess, Reading etc.

The Princess started reading “The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe”. I was thrilled but a little nervous that she would have nightmares. I did that very annoying thing of constantly asking her “where are you now?” She thought it was alright. I am gutted. On the boys’ birthday, a number of kind relatives also gave her presents. Mostly, they gave her books. “Why,” queried my little ingrate, “is everyone always giving me books?” Could her reading phase be over already?

Give me a boy at seven


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

New acquaintance: And where did your husband go to school?
Me: Jesuit School X.
New acquaintance: Oh lovely, clever, sensitive boys.

I understand that Mr. Waffle’s school produced many chess champions but that they failed to star in rugby.

4 Today


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael

Michael and Daniel turned four today.

My mother-in-law asked me what time of day they were born and, incredibly, I had forgotten. Fortunately, I have a complete online record. It is funny to look at those old pictures and see how tiny they were. They are big boys now as they never tire of reminding me.

I suppose because they have no younger siblings, they still seem pretty small to me. If only I had lots of energy, I would write a loving and detailed post but after a day of festivities filled with guns, family and power rangers, I think I may have to compromise with some pictures and a couple of anecdotes.

Daniel is extremely articulate, speaks very clearly and he seems to have a good ear for language. The other day I heard him describe something as “upsoide dowen”. I raised my eyebrows. He said, “Mummy, I know you say upside down but at school we say ‘upsoide dowen'” Poor Daniel. As his father says, “Fluent in English, Irish, French and Dub.” He can also do an RP English accent, a Lancashire accent (where did this come from – the BBC?) and, of course, like all of his contemporaries an American accent. I was glad that, as we trooped out of a concert with other parents and children on Friday night, he chose to use his RP English accent to say loudly, “Mummy, stop hitting me with your bloody handbag.” [My handbag is heavy, when I bend down to minister to small children’s needs, it can be slightly dangerous. No one has ever been knocked unconscious. I am trying to stop saying bloody.]

Michael’s social skills continue to be unrivalled in his family. F tells me that when she waits with him and Daniel for their sister to emerge from school all of the other pupils say, “Hello Michael”. He is the soul of friendliness. He is also a stickler for accuracy. At school he is learning Connaught Irish. I speak Munster Irish. He sits at the bord dearg (red table) in his class. I pronounce “dearg” as “darug”. He pronounces it as “dya-rug”. I have had to alter my pronounciation or risk the wrath of the tiny tyrant.

27 September 2005

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27 September 2006 – 1
1

27 September 2007 – 2
2

27 September 2008 – 3 Oh God, that terrifying haircut – the Vikings storm the city
3

27 September 2007 – 4 – We’re 4!

4
4 as well

And, as it happens, today is also my parents’ 42nd wedding anniversary which is rather nice too.

Grim


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

Our cleaner, A, is from Latvia. The other day he commented on how well herself spoke French. “We used to live in Belgium,” I explained. “How many languages do you speak?” I asked. “Russian and Latvian; I studied German at university but I have nearly forgotten it all now.”

The OECD economic survey of Ireland in 2008 found that “[m]ost migrants are young, well educated and work, but are often in basic jobs.” They’re not kidding.