belgianwaffle

Twins

39 today


Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Work

Do you think you can get a card with a badge on it that says that?

I think I will launch myself into a prolonged period of mid-life crisis which I might wind-up next year when I turn 40. How enjoyable for everyone. Let us do a tally of my achievements:

Marriage

Seems sound, husband is lovely. Tick.

Children

Three is a good number, they are nice little things but tiring. Why would I want more? Why? I am 39. That appears to be a full answer. Half tick.

Career

Job is fine. I am very fond of my colleagues who are a joy to work with. Yet the actual work is only moderately interesting. I feel that out there somewhere is the perfect job for me, if only I could find it. I also think that it has nothing to do with my experience to date so it’s probably quite poorly paid, at least initially, before they realise that I am a genius at it. I am a round peg in an oval hole. Imagine what I could achieve, if I could find a round hole. I think this metaphor is becoming unfeasibly stretched. A friend of mine says that there is no perfect job which is why she has focussed on her social life. There may be something to be said for that. Half tick
Family and friends

I have lots of both. I like them, they like me. Tick. At least, I hope they do. Half tick for manifest lack of self confidence at 39.

Car

I have no desire to buy a sports car. Tick.

Hobbies

You’re reading it. I also like reading. I wish I had some form of hobby that did not involve sitting on my bottom. All through my teens and twenties, I played hockey but it’s a bit demanding for a parent. Half tick.

Feeling my age

Unlike many people of my age, I do not feel like I am 20. But yet, I am very surprised to be 39. My oldest friend the Ambassador (clang) will be 40 next month, though, mind you, she is an Ambassador so I think that’s pretty good going for a 40 year old. Almost.

My mother says that having children keeps you young. Maybe this is true when they are teenagers but at the moment, I’m not so sure. I am sometimes so tired and stretched I feel like I am 60. I also find myself criticising young people’s grammar and marvelling at their odd musical taste. Oh yes, indeedy, I am cruising towards middle age. Half tick.

In other birthday news, if you were to take a day off work and leave your children with the childminder and decamp to Ghent to celebrate your birthday, you should a) remember, if it is Monday, the museums will be closed and b) bear in mind that cities built around canals are not so pleasant in stormy weather. Furthermore, when you return home and your three children rush into your arms and sing happy birthday to you, you should try not to be overwhelmed by love and guilt.

The day has also brought a birthday poem from my sister, a birthday missive from my parents, several nice emails, a present from husband and children – pretty good all round. You could make it even better by delurking. Go on, I know you’re out there. I think you’re out there. I hope you’re out there. Half tick.

Plucky Little Belgium


Posted in: Belgium, Middle Child, Twins

Since Daniel acquired glasses, we have been spending a lot of time and money in the opticians. I’m glad it’s a nice one near home. Mostly we are served by the owner’s daughter, an efficient pleasant woman about my age. The other night, I went in to get Daniel’s glasses repaired (he and Michael had tugged them apart at the creche, it’s nice to think of them having fun) and her father was there. He was dealing with some other people and I settled down to wait, conscious all the same that Mr. Waffle was at home with three cranky children who needed dinner and bed. Finally, it was my turn.

Me: Hello, I wonder could you fix these glasses, I think you have a file on us.

Him: That’s not a Belgian accent.

Me: Er, no, it’s not, I’m from Ireland.

Him (heavily accented): Ireland, Ireland, then we can speak English.

Me (proferring deformed glasses): Mmm. Yes, if you like.

Him: Do you know Hertfordshire?

Me: Um, no, never been, I’m afraid.

Him: My father was in England during the war.

Me: The first world war?

Him (misunderstanding, I think): How old do you think I am?

Me: Um, the second world war?

Him (at cross-purposes): He died in the war.

Me: I’m sorry to hear that. In England?

Him (baffled): No, he was in England in the first world war; when he was 13.

Me (not wanting to be unsympathetic but feeling we are getting nowhere and also conscious of my loving husband and children, home alone): I see, well, I wonder, have you got a file on us?

Him (not to be deterred): He learnt to be an optician and then set up in Dendermonde when he came back.

Me: Oh Dendermonde.

Him: No, in England.

Me: Yes, I see.

Him: He died in the second world war.

Me: I’m very sorry to hear it.

Him: Yes, I was only 10.

Me (mind reprehensibly fixed on the glasses): That must have been very difficult for you.

Him: Yes, he was betrayed.

Me (surprised): By whom?

Him: He joined the résistance straight away immediately and he was betrayed by [not clear, some local perhaps]. They ask me why I do not live in Dendermonde but I know they are traitors and I can smell corruption and racism. Though, his daughter [I think the daughter of the man who betrayed his father] is a very nice woman.

Me (genuinely interested and having put the glasses to the back of my mind): How did your father die?

Him (producing formal black bordered mortuary card showing a handsome midddle-aged man): My father was taken away by the Germans and died of typhus in the camps in March 1945. I went to see him once in prison in Ghent before he was taken away. It was a hard time, the English were very good to us, an English Major and his daughter, she is an old woman now, June, but she is godmother to my daughter.

Pause.

Him: I think we’ll have to send those glasses away to be fixed.

I forget how much these things are just below the surface in Belgium where two world wars were fought. Coming from a country that was neutral in the second world war and where (aside from Northern Ireland which is a long way from Cork and, after all, another country), the last major conflict occurred over 80 years ago, I have never, in living memory, lost a relative except to illness, accident or old age. Sometimes I forget how very fortunate that makes me.

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Posted in: Middle Child, Reading etc., Twins, Youngest Child

We have a copy of Walt Disney’s “Lady and the Tramp” in book form and the boys love it. We also have a book of Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” and this is also much loved. I’m not sure where they came from but they are among the boys’ favourite books despite our constant attempts to plug works we prefer.

The boys, have, however, totally confused the two works. As a special treat we got out “Beauty and the Beast” on DVD and they were transfixed. At first sight of the beast, they were both terrified and sat there pointing at the screen saying “Ladybeast, Ladybeast!”

Product awareness


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

Michael (pointing to label on freebie toy given out at McDonald’s): What that?

Me: It’s an M.

Him: No, is zips.

Me: I suppose it does look a bit like a zip.

Him: No, zips, sips, tzips.

Me: Chips.

Him (happily): Yes, tzips.

I know it’s not the flu


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins

Because the one time I had the flu, I could barely struggle out of bed.  But I have got a nasty cold.

Yesterday, I spent all day in bed, being poked in the eyeball from time to time by a very bored Princess.  Our cleaner kindly agreed to stay all day and keep an eye on herself but I think she (the Princess and probably also the cleaner) has now decided that there is such a thing as too much television.  She went off to school today with a spring in her step.

Our cleaner is a very nice woman from the Eastern part of Poland and she disapproves profoundly of my decision to work.  Yesterday, she said to the Princess – isn’t it nice to have Mama at home instead of her going off to work?  The Princess was gobsmacked; here she was having the most boring day of her life and she was supposed to like it.  I was mildly gratified.

And in other whinging about the help news (is there anything more irritating, than someone who does that?) our childminder does not, like me, believe in always telling children the truth.  I like to think that it builds up their soft skills. The other day, Daniel, expressed a desire to see the childminder’s daughter C.  It was 6 o’clock in the evening, the childminder was just leaving, she said “you want to come with me, you want to see C?”.  Daniel’s little face lit up.  Why would she torture him this way?  As I say, building up their soft skills.

Finally, the Princess has a half day at school today, I rang L’s mother who lives around the corner to ask her, if she could take the Princess this afternoon, in view of my enfeebled state.  She croaked on the other end of the phone – no, I have the flu and so has my husband and my two year old.  Given that she was just starting to feel ill when she was around here on Friday afternoon, perhaps it is the flu after all.
Back to bed, while I still can.

Confusion


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Youngest Child

Michael (combing his hair and looking at himself in the mirror): Michael est belle.

Mr. Waffle: Michael est beau.

Michael (crossly): Michael est BELLE.

Mr. Waffle: Ta soeur est belle, tu es beau.

Michael (furious): MICHAEL EST BELLE.

Mr. Waffle: Michael est belle.