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Archives for November 2016

Daniel at 11

7 November, 2016
Posted in: Middle Child, Twins

As Daniel said, I am finally, finally getting around to his birthday post. Better late than never.

He has started reading this blog with mild interest; he commented to Michael as he read, “I didn’t know Mummy was funny.” I suppose I can take that how I like. He was a bit offended to see that I said that he had a low pain threshold so I am honour bound to point out that on the very day of his birthday he got a lash of a hurley on his thumb and the coaches thought it might be broken. Daniel stoically trained through the pain. It was not, in fact, broken but it did swell up in an alarming way for a couple of days. He is now recovered, you will be happy to hear.

Daniel is definitely our sportiest child. He trains twice a week and has matches at the weekend. He usually has some kind of injury. In addition to the thumb incident above, he had to hop around the school for a couple of days the other week due to a toe injury; I think he might have some kind of floating body in his knee and as I write he has a scalded tongue (non-sport related but there is always something). He is nonetheless undeterred from his sporting endeavours and throws his heart into every match and every practice.

I am unable to find any record of his constant sportiness but have a serious shot of him as Michael Collins:

2016-03-16 07.24.38He likes to read – Horrible Histories, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, things about Arsenal. He also likes to watch youtube videos. He is a big fan of FIFA video games narrated on youtube. He also loves to read poetry and following the cull by his sister has ended up with quite a number of lovely books which I often see him flicking through.

UntitledI took the children to a performance called “Katie’s Party” during the theatre festival. It was a one woman show for children exploring the theme of moving from primary school to secondary school. Daniel really enjoyed it but he is also very nervous about the prospect of moving to secondary school. This is probably not helped by seeing his sister getting through mountains of homework and being a bit of a perfectionist himself. I think I should try to get him to the theatre a bit more as he really seems to be entranced by the couple of things he has seen.

UntitledHe gets on well with his brother but feels that he has to mind him. Mr. Waffle often says that it is like we have two eldest children and even though Daniel is only 20 minutes older than his brother, he definitely acts like he is a good year older. This is helped by the fact that he is considerably taller and broader. I sometimes think that it is a bit unfair on him that we expect so much from him but he is very responsible and often volunteers for tasks.

UntitledHe is utterly reliable and very helpful. If you ask him to do something, he will generally get it done. On Saturday mornings he can’t play on the x-box until he has unloaded the dishwasher and, faithfully, every Saturday morning, he does it. As he is usually first up, it falls to him. Just like his father, he is an early bird and he is often up early in the morning. I hardly ever need to wake him up in the morning.

2016-06-06 14.29.02He finds his sister’s access to electronic devices very galling. Now that she has a phone and an iPad, he is on the verge of expiry from envy. He has a strong sense of injustice and this drives him crazy. He also points to her trips to London and Paris with some bitterness and although we have said that these things will come when he is bigger, I don’t think that he is convinced by us. Yet sometimes, notwithstanding everything, he and his sister can be very friendly; they share lots of interests and I hear them laughing uproariously together.

169Daniel is very musical. This fills me with guilt. Have I repaired the piano? I have not. He has basically taught himself to play the tin whistle and I hear him picking out tunes on that most unforgiving of instruments with considerable success and no support from his parents. He is shy though and unwilling to play or sing outside the immediate family. He sings in the church choir and has been doing increasing numbers of readings and prayers of the faithful which he does very well and very clearly. He tells me that he is nervous but he does not sound it.

His French comprehension is still pretty good and he really makes an effort to speak as well. He needs some lessons, I think but he is a bit committed with his sporting engagements and he said to me, “It’s either music or French but I can’t do both.” I think he might be right.

609He really enjoys quizzes and answering questions but it can be a challenge at home as his sister tends to cut across him. At school though, he is really coming into his own. His table is winning general knowledge stars and he is loving it. He is fascinated by facts and it is standing him in good stead. Generally, I think he enjoys school and he is loving his teacher for this year who is excellent. He has had a really good run of teachers in primary school with one notable exception. I think he’s probably easy to teach: obliging, clever, hardworking. I understand that he helps other children in the class, if they are lost and is very patient at explaining.

UntitledHe can get distracted from doing his homework and let it drift on for hours. This drives him bananas but he seems unable to stop himself staring at the ceiling unless we prod him. He gets this from me. Another thing that he gets from me is that he is tidy. He is the only one of my children who is naturally reasonably tidy. He and I spent a happy morning organising his bookshelves by author a couple of weeks ago. It’s holding up wonderfully and every time I go into his room, it fills me with mild happiness – him too, I think.

UntitledWhen I take him out on his own without the other two, he really blossoms. He loves the attention and is so engaging and loves the mildest treat. Even when I took himself and Michael to the Sugar Loaf the other day – not his idea of an amazing treat – Michael ran on ahead and he and I walked down together and he was delighted and we had a lovely chat.

UntitledI can see the outlines of the adult he will someday become, he is in many ways a very mature 11 year old. He is moving firmly towards adolescent and a small part of me misses the adorable little boy which he is placing determinedly behind him. I suppose that this is what parenthood is all about and I am very proud of him and and how he is growing up. Seeing him change reminds me vividly how lucky I am to be his mother and how much he has grown in the last 11 years.

Stereotyping

8 November, 2016
Posted in: Ireland, Reading etc.

My friend from Belfast was telling me about his friend also from Belfast who has moved into the top floor of an old Georgian house. His friend has loads of books and the movers found getting the stuff up to the top floor very trying. Towards the end of the day, the man who was moving house, found one of the movers lying on the floor saying, “I can’t take it anymore, don’t make me move another box.” “Typical Belfast labourer,” snorted my friend.

Somehow, if you’d asked me what a typical Belfast labourer was like, I would have said words like, tough and hardworking. I don’t think my expectation would be that they would lie down on the floor and give up. It just goes to show that stereotyping is misleading.

Surprising

9 November, 2016
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?

Raifteirí Prepares to Hand Over the Reins

10 November, 2016
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.

Something for Theresa May to Reflect On

11 November, 2016
Posted in: Mr. Waffle

Back when the Swedes joined the EU in the mid 90s, Mr. Waffle remembers a senior Italian Commission official commenting, “How can you negotiate with these people? They say exactly what they mean.”

Rats

12 November, 2016
Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

I had a busy day at work yesterday. When I got home, about 6.30, I put Mr. Waffle and the boys in to the car. We drove into town through rainy Friday evening traffic to collect the Princess from a course, then we dropped Mr. Waffle to a dinner in his old school (he offered to sort himself out but I was feeling noble – he was a bit peeved as a) we were nearly late for herself and he hates to be late and b) having worked himself to the bone for this deadline on Wednesday, some new disagreeable, urgent thing has now presented itself, as he said, “it’s like getting arrested on your release from jail”), then I came back into town with the children and had dinner in Milano’s which I thought would be good but Michael was unhappy (tired and hungry) and he spread the love. I felt a bit sorry for myself last night but thought it was just that I was tired, so I trooped off to bed with my book and looked forward to Saturday.

This morning I woke up with the head cold which my daughter, my husband and my childminder have had all week. I wish I had been a bit more sympathetic to them. At lunchtime I dragged myself out to drop herself off to an event and hung around to pick her up. I was going to let herself and her father out to buy her some new clothes in the afternoon but my nerve failed me and I went instead. Not a blow for feminism, I concede, but she had to get a winter coat and I couldn’t face looking at something I didn’t like all winter. Go on, judge away.

I am now updating my blog while sipping a lemsip. Mr. Waffle and I are going out to dinner to celebrate reaching his hideous deadline (although this seems a little premature now, see paragraph 1) and sick or no I am going to go. Let us hope that the lemsip works.

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