Daniel came home with a big cut across his forehead. “What happened to you?” I asked. “Mary Lou [McDonald, successful Sinn Féin candidate in the recent election] hit me,” he said. “WHAT??” “Well, Michael, threw her at me and she hit me on the forehead.” It transpired that one of the candidate’s posters had fallen off a lamp post and Michael decided to test its aerodynamics by flinging it as his brother. I tell you, if it’s not one thing, it’s another.
Daniel
Round Up
Parent teacher meetings: Herself, v clever, but continues to coast along without making the slightest effort (this is all very well in primary school but I can see disaster looming in the long term). Michael, too early to tell whether clever or not, but does not apply himself, particularly to colouring (try to care but just cannot, am clearly a bad mother). Daniel, tries very hard and worries a great deal about what everyone will think of his efforts. Due to power of will alone he can now nearly, nearly read. I think I should rely on Daniel for my pension. None of them shows the slightest interest in Irish or desire to speak it despite encouragement from all quarters. Sigh.
Went to see Tutankhamun exhibition on Saturday at the request of the children who are learning about ancient Eygpt in school. We queued for an hour with our pre-purchased ticket but, as a fellow queuer pointed out, at least it wasn’t raining. It was a bit dull in the end but the children, amazingly, seemed to enjoy it. Probably because they were given headphones.
Incident
The childminder took the children to the park yesterday. Some big bold boys ran after them, tried to kick them, shouted at them and called them names. The childminder departed with the children in tow and the bullies following. They only left when the children got on the bus home. The Princess is particularly upset, pointing out that they tried to kick Daniel she said, “I can do that, but no one else is allowed to.” They were all a bit shaken up. Later in the evening, Daniel said to me, “Mummy, the mean boys in the park called me [insert nasty racist epithet here] what does that mean?” Lovely. Proof that racists are stupid, I suppose. Mr. Waffle said to them, that these were children who weren’t looked after properly and taught properly and they probably wouldn’t have very happy lives. I was much less inclined to go with the wishy-washy liberal approach than usual and just said that they were nasty children [looks like it’s true – a conservative is a liberal who has been mugged].
Too much television
When I went to my parents’ house a couple of weeks ago, I put the children in front of the television for the weekend which worked well for all of us, aside from the inevitable guilt which I suffered. I am now paying the price for this over-exposure.
Daniel keeps saying in an English accent, “See our new catalogue for details. Now in-store!” Michael peering into the cupboard under the sink said to me, “Look, Vanish oxi action power gel, works on all kinds of stains.” Oh the wages of sin.
Glass Half Full
The boys eat nothing. Every evening at dinner, Michael surveys the table and announces dolefully, “There’s nothing I like.” I was at the library the other day and the staff had strategically placed a book on parenting in the children’s section. I flicked to the part on children’s eating habits looking idly for tips. It was all about tackling childhood obesity. Well, at least there’s one problem we haven’t got at the moment.
What are we to make of this?
When I came home from work, Michael looked up from what he was doing and said, “Mum, the babysitter kicked me.” He then went back about his business. I protested feebly, “Don’t call O “the babysitter” Michael, she has a name.” And then I turned to O and asked “Ahem, did you, eh, you know, eh…” to which she said, no.
Nevertheless, the children have not taken a shine to her and, certainly, she is not as good as her predecessor who was terrific. But she seems ok. And she will be finishing in the next couple of months in any event to go back to France for the ski season. So, I suppose we will tough it out.
I discovered that the children have other plans. The boys’ teacher took me aside this morning. She said that the boys had told her that they were working on a secret plan developed by their sister. At her signal they were to scream and only to stop when she picked up the cat. I see a number of difficulties here including both the objection of the cat and the Princess’s choice of co-conspirators. Still, I am experiencing definite unease. This evening the Princess asked me why I can’t sack the babysitter.
Oh dear. Do you think that the babysitter will tough it out?