Mr. Waffle

on 26 June 2005 at 14:50

Or Scoot.

Locotes

on 26 June 2005 at 17:00

Hard to believe as it is, I think this blog could be even more exciting if called Belgiska Vafflor.Sounds like a evil genius comic book villain…

on 28 June 2005 at 11:36

You’re famous. I knew it.

on 28 June 2005 at 11:37

Oh yeth.

on 28 June 2005 at 21:25

Pog, Locotes, a name change is tempting, isn’t it?

on 29 June 2005 at 13:10

Belgiska Vaffla certainly has a ring to it …..

on 01 July 2005 at 21:37

I know, I’d feel all viking; but I think I’m probably too wet to live up to it.

on 04 July 2005 at 15:10

Nah – I can just see you with the horned helmet and yellow braids …. and a bit of looting and pillaging never hurt anyone. Well, not anyone doing it.

on 04 July 2005 at 16:08
(
Comment Modified) Race traitor! Was it for this your ancestors build the round towers and buried the Ardagh Chalice in a bog or for this that Brian of the Dal Cais – with the Irish of Munster, the U’Neil and brave-hearted Ostmen kicked the crap out of that black’art Mael Morda and his Norse ally King Sygtrygg at Clontarf?! Have you no memory for such things, woman!
🙂

on 04 July 2005 at 21:29

Pog, mmm, interesting. Jack, we’re probably all vikings really…

on 05 July 2005 at 00:20

That would be the Cork crowd. And the Dove Ling shower…

on 05 July 2005 at 20:39

Now, now and you with a trip to Douglas imminent.

Stalked by illness

18 May, 2005
Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Pregnancy related maladies

Return of rash leading to scabrous arms and legs (thankfully the weather is not such as to encourage baring of same)

Sore toe (no sniggering – last night while rushing to the aid of my howling infant, I stubbed my toe and today I am limping pitifully)

Industrial accident (painful paper cut on top of middle finger making typing
excrutiating)

Mr. Waffle

Sore neck (leading to a certain stiffness in bearing)

Headache

Princess

Has for three nights in a row thrown up in the middle of the night. She has no other symptoms. No temperature. Nothing. Last night when I picked her out of her cot she said she was sick and we rushed to the bathroom where she dutifully threw up. Though obviously worried that she was ill, I was pleased that I had explained to her that if she felt sick it was a good idea to go to the bathroom; particularly since our supply of clean bedding was nearly exhausted.Â Â In my triumph, about the controlled vomitting incident I had forgotten that my daughter is like her father – very cautious.Â So for the next hour my loving husband and I took it in turns to sit with her on the bathroom floor. Every time we tried to persuade her back to her bed or ours she said piteously “dans la salle de bain”. Anyway eventually she went back to bed and slept for the rest of the night and this morning she seemed fine, though a bit tired and crabby. Alas, this evening, she was not fine when I picked her up from the creche.Â The new person said she had spent most of the day lying on the floor with Hop Hop crying. She had her nap and ate her lunch and didn’t have a temperature and when questioned said she was not sick but sad. I am a bit annoyed that they didn’t call us. I mean, she’s only 2 she may not be fully au fait with the difference between existential angst and feeling nauseous and tired.Â Anyhow I brought her down to the car and strapped her in and she said “Sick Mummy” so I rapidly unstrapped her and she threw up all over the pavement. Poor mite. She was anxious that I should clean up the pavement but I held back. When we got home she was sick again and she’s now gone to bed where I hope she will recover before her paternal grandparents arrive tomorrow. I must say, it makes me feel very sad to think of my baby girl lying on the floor crying while I was quiet at work and could easily have taken a half day and brought her home. This working mother thing can be trying.

Comments

beachhutman

on 19 May 2005 at 08:49

Yeah, hope it comes out well.
That could have been put in a more felicitous way I guess.

Minkleberry

on 19 May 2005 at 09:09

awww poor little girl. But what control. I still don’t quite make it to the toilet everytime I’m sick!

on 19 May 2005 at 10:42

Oh dear.
Poor mite does seem to have a v delicate stomach …..

kat

(Homepage)

on 19 May 2005 at 22:02

My goodness…sending you get well vibes asap!

on 20 May 2005 at 18:16

Aw thank you all for good health wishes. So far they only seem to be really working for my loving husband but he is very grateful..

dmts

on 20 May 2005 at 18:26

Oh it is pitiful – ‘not sick but sad’. Poor princess – may she be up and telling you all to fuck off before too long

on 21 May 2005 at 11:42

Thanks HJB. How did the furry animal grilling go?

dmts

on 21 May 2005 at 15:35

they grilled neither small fluffy animals or children. The fluffies were there to be pretty and the grilled stuff was sausages.

on 25 May 2005 at 11:10

Disappointing H.

Cautious Gene

16 May, 2005
Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess

This morning the Princess, little L and I went to the playground together.Â This was my first time venturing out alone with 2 two-year olds and I was a little tense.Â We were only going as far as the park at the end of the road but the potential for disaster was clearly there. Little L dutifully held my hand and I suggested to the Princess that she might like to do likewise.

No!ï¿½ Mummy carry you! But why, sweetheart? Look L is walking.
Il y a des voitures, maman!
Well yes darling, but they’re all parked.

She was not to be fooled, she would not get down until we reached the safety of the park.Â Let me tell you waddling along with a 2 year old in one arm while holding another’s hand while simultaneously 4 months pregnant with twins is no joke.

I tackled Mr. Waffle on this matter this evening.

Him:ï¿½ Um, that might be my fault.
Me: Why?
Him: Well the other day I was walking with her and when we got to the road I explained that she had to be carried across the road because otherwise it was too dangerous.
Me: Derisive snort.
Him (defensively): Well, it’s better than the opposite.

Which I suppose it is. Her extreme caution also means that she is not subject to the myriad bruises which other toddlers suffer from. Though, of course, she did manage to break her front tooth.

Comments

on 17 May 2005 at 09:21

You’re undone. That’s imprinted behaviour and the circuitry is now laid down for all future learning. Better luck with the Twins…. 😐

on 17 May 2005 at 10:26

Hubby will be sorry when she’s 18 and still demanding that he carries her across the road. You wait.

on 17 May 2005 at 21:31

HJB, well my experience of people who live in Switzerland is that they’re all very fit from near constant mountain climbing – not true?
JD, yes, I know.
Pog, the one thought that sustains me.

Geography

20 April, 2005
Posted in: Mr. Waffle

Yesterday morning on the way to the creche we were singing Guantanamera in the car (really, we’re the Von Trapps).Â Well I was mostly humming and Mr. Waffle who had the advantage of spending a number of his formative years in Latin America was singing. I asked what the words meant and he said “Peasant lass from Guantanamo, trust me, I am a sincere man from where the palm trees grow and I like your orange jump suit”.

Comments

KateEvans

on 22 April 2005 at 23:05

And I believed him, too…Congratulations, by the way!

on 23 April 2005 at 14:13

Yeah, me too, I’m very gullible. And thank you for your sweetie and congrats!

Touched by greatness

23 March, 2005
Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

Mr. W: Your cousin lives in Luxembourg?
Younger Colleague: No, he was working there for a couple of weeks. Actually, he was making a film. They have great film making facilities in Luxembourg.
Mr. W: Really? What was the film? Would I have heard of it?
Y. C.: Maybe, it was “Girl with a Pearl Earring”.
Mr. W: Oh yeah, I actually saw that. Who was your cousin?
Y. C.: Um, the painter guy.
Mr. W: Sorry, your cousin is Colin Firth?

Apparenly yes and he hates it when people come up to him and talk about “Pride and Prejudice”.

Comments

Mikeachim

on 23 March 2005 at 17:42

By ‘eck.
I’ve never understood the Pride & Prejudice wet shirt thing.
(But then I’m male. Apparently you have to be female).
Can anyone explain it?

lauren35

on 23 March 2005 at 18:09

Mikeachim : the primal act & animal energy of diving into a natural pool, the haughty but piercing & troubled look at the woman he loves, the strength of the body revealed by the clinging white shirt … need I go on?

NorahSplog

on 23 March 2005 at 18:13

Mmmmm Colin Firth.
When they make the film of my life, Mr Splog will be played by our Col.
Why’d he have to be called Colin though?

on 24 March 2005 at 08:03

Um, judging by the comments, it doesn’t look like he’s put P&P behind him, does it? Very good point about his name, Norah.

on 24 March 2005 at 10:01

Is there a ‘natural pool’ anywhere within striking distance of any stately home in Britain since the time of Capability Brown? Just wondering.
Anyway, I think he fell in because he was on drugs…..