Michael: Will I have to go ON MY OWN?
Herself: Oh no, you would never be allowed to go unchaperoned.
She’s working on her first novel and it’s set in 1801. She has been doing research. Do you think I am making this up?
Princess
Letting Go – A Bit
The Princess got the bus home from school alone the other day. She managed it without difficulty. And she was absolutely delighted with herself.
When I was her age, I was frankly not delighted to get the bus home from school as it was a dreary part of my routine [not so much the bus ride really but waiting forever for it to arrive]. But when I was her age there were a gang of unaccompanied children getting the bus home every day. Furthermore, on my bus route the chances of meeting alcoholics or strung out junkies was close to nil. Her bus route on the other hand does offer these options from time to time. On the other hand, people are kind and she is sensible. I asked whether anyone spoke to her. “Yes,” she said, “the bus driver asked me whether I was on my own and a nice woman talked to me when I sat down upstairs.” What you might expect really.
This daring action was inspired by Mr. Waffle who felt (correctly) that she was well able for it and I was sustained by thoughts of this woman who described her child as being “ecstatic with independence” after riding the New York subway. Well, that’s how my girl felt too though I don’t think that she’s ready to tackle the NY subway just yet.
Confidence Boosting 2
The childminder was talking to me about the children’s homework. “Daniel keeps reversing his “b”s and “d”s,” he said. “Not to worry,” I said, “I used to do the exact same thing myself.” The Princess piped up, “I didn’t know that you were dyslexic Mum.”
– I’m not dyslexic, it’s just that when I was little I reversed by “b”s and “d”s.
– Dyslexia is nothing to be ashamed of Mum.
– I know it’s not, it’s just that I’m not dyslexic.
– It’s alright, lots of people are dyslexic, you know.
Confidence Boosting
Strike 1
I was recounting to Mr. Waffle in the car how I dreamt that when I arrived at my office it was occupied by a young whipper-snapper and I was confined to a desk in a dark windowless cubbyhole. “And I didn’t even protest,” I said mournfully.
Strike 2
Herself pipes up from the back, “That was a dream? But it sounds like exactly the kind of thing that would happen to you in real life!”
Strike 3
I was telling a friend in work about this and she said, “Gosh your daughter knows you really well, doesn’t she?”
Intermission
We interrupt this endless detailing of summer holidays to point out that the children went back to school today. They seemed happy to be back. The boys have the same teacher as last year. I am delighted as she is lovely. Daniel was very keen to go back but Michael much less so. However, once they got their feet under the desks, they seemed very pleased with themselves. They are in second class and this is the year they make their first confession and first communion. Michael foresees much attendance at mass with deep gloom and is angling to be excused. I am trying very hard to underline the importance of the sacrament and not to resort to saying that he won’t get any money, if he doesn’t make his first communion. As he and Daniel have begun saving for an x-box (total so far, 70 cents), I can’t help feeling that it would be a significant incentive.
Due to numbers, fourth class, home to the Princess, has been divided in half (alphabetically)- she is in the fourth/fifth class end as are most of her friends. She looks very big in her school uniform now. She announced this morning that she no longer has to jump to get her uniform down from its shelf.
And tomorrow, I’m going to go back to work myself. I have slightly mixed feelings about this. I note that I have not had a migraine all summer. But I miss my work which is really interesting and my colleagues who are lovely. I may not be so enthusiastic by Friday.
Washout
Sunday, July 15
We arrived in Cork to lashing rain. I forced my family and my brother and sister down to the park to see the World Street Performing championships. It was damp. I was wearing sandals and only successfully got the mud out of my feet by mid-week. The children whined. It was an inauspicious beginning. I was, however, proved right because, although the street performers did not hold the children’s attention there were ancillary excitements.
Like this:
And a zip line over the pond:
Say what you like about the rain, it makes for short queues. Also, the sun shone, very briefly. After our mud stop in Cork we said goodbye to the grandparents and drove to Garryvoe in East Cork. My saintly friends M and R have a house there and we have stayed there many times. It’s a lovely house, very close to the beach and a relatively easy drive into Cork city. Even though the weather was not terrific, the children were very pleased to see the beach.
It was only when we got to Garryvoe that we discovered that the purchase of an e-reader for her had made little difference to the Princess’s packing habits:
