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Twins

Seasonal Break

9 December, 2014
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins

Daniel is sick. Since Mr. Waffle was home with sick children on Thursday, Friday and Monday, today it is my turn. While I am not saying that this is how I would have chosen to use a day’s holiday, it is surprisingly restful. I have been keeping an eye on work emails and it is not restful in the office but they seem to be soldiering on without me.

The patient is much improved and, in retrospect, could possibly have gone to school today though he is barking like a seal so I suppose not entirely better. I brought him breakfast in bed and the Beano arrived so, frankly, it has been a pretty good day so far from his point of view. I have been sunk deep in domestic administration. Aside from standard issue stuff like tidying up the house, putting on a wash and steaming plum pudding [standard for this time of year], I have also telephoned photobox to tell them that they sent me some of my photos and some of someone else’s. Photobox has been my photo printer of choice for a year and I have never had a problem until now. They only allow email by contact form and, bizzarely, my problem wasn’t one of the choices which were listed. So, I turned to the telephone. 25 minutes on hold. That is a LONG wait. When the phone call was answered, the person was gratifyingly on the ball and apologetic. But still, 25 minutes. The call centre person sounded like she might have been from the Far East which is why I forgave her for her one faux pas in our conversation: “Please tear up the other photos. Normally we ask you to mail them back but we only have freepost on the mainland.” If there is one expression more than any other guaranteed to irritate someone from Ireland it is English people saying “the mainland”. As I say, she didn’t sound English, I rose above it.

Other non-standard tasks included the insurance cheque. My husband is, as you know, a saint. He renewed our house insurance but then got a better offer so wrote to the original company and cancelled their policy and they promptly refunded a large cheque made out to both of us but, let’s call a spade a spade, paid over by him. The other night he endorsed it and said to me, “You might as well have this.” Oh the thrill and at such an expensive time of year. I lodged it gleefully and promptly spent it. It was therefore with some regret that I received a letter from my bank this morning [written on non-headed paper with hardly any details, is this not odd?] returning the cheque and pointing out that since it was “account payee only” it could only be lodged to a joint account. In a very 21st century way, we don’t have a joint account except, as Mr. Waffle pointed out, the mortgage account. I rang the bank to ask whether we could lodge the cheque to the mortgage account. I left a voicemail message and had very little hope that they would get back to me but, bonus points for Bank of Ireland, they did and gratifyingly promptly. Yes, they could lodge it in the mortgage account. My cheque (note how possessive I have become in the space of one short paragraph) is now about to be spent (again) in the most boring way known to man. Woe. Though logistic convenience, I suppose.*

Final non-standard task was library book renewal, I am astounded at how easy this was to do (normally my husband takes care of these things) – Dublin city libraries, I take my hat off to you. This afternoon, I have a further range of exciting administrative tasks to achieve in my unexpected day off. Honestly, could this blog be any more exciting?

*Updated to add: An inspection of my bank account this afternoon indicates that my saintly husband has decided to make good the deficit. Hurrah, Christmas is back on. Also, I was able to pay the plumber who has just gone, leaving hot water in his wake.

Michael at 9

30 November, 2014
Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

Obviously, being twins, Michael and Daniel celebrate their birthday on the same day. So, Michael’s birthday post is two months late also.

Michael is skinnier than 99.7% of children his age in Ireland. That’s what the doctor told us so we know it’s true. He has soft brown hair, beautiful skin and a really amazing ability to look cute like the cat in Shrek. He is the shortest child in the family and often points out that he is the youngest and the smallest. He is only the youngest by 20 minutes but that does not stop him entirely inhabiting the role of youngest child.

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Things Michael will eat/drink: Knorr Chicken noodle soup, rashers, sausages, rice krispies and milk, Tayto crisps, orange flavoured chupa chups lollipops, Yorkshire puddings, pizza, Club Orange, water, chicken (leg only), innocent smoothies, cheese, sliced pan, popcorn.

Things Michael will not eat/drink: everything else including sweets and chocolate.

There is a reason why he is thinner than 99.7% of children in Ireland.

Regrettably, he has recently stopped saying “May you cut my pizza?” which I used to really enjoy. Ndow thanks to the efforts of his sister he says “Oh no, grammatical error, can you cut my pizza?”

Michael hates to leave the house. If he was left to his own devices, he would spend all his time at home. It was only recently I noticed that unlike his brother and sister he participates in no extra curricular activities. This has been rectified as of this month; I am cruel like this. He is doing an art class. It is alright apparently.

He has clothes that he likes to wear and he wears them until they fall apart. Last Christmas he got a long-sleeved green stripy t-shirt and a fleecy blue Gap jumper and he has worn both constantly only changing into something else when they were in the wash. The Gap jumper disappeared in mysterious circumstances but he is still wearing the green t-shirt. He is very faithful to his clothes and toys and they can never under any circumstances be recycled or given away. He is very keen to watch “The Muppets’ Christmas Carol” in the run up to Christmas, just like we did last year. He still reminisces about the old house. His father says that he is the world’s most nostalgic nine year old.

Michael is an extraordinarily sensitive and charming child. He is much more likely to think of what others than you might reasonably expect from someone his age. When I am about to lose my temper, he comes up and pats me on the head. This is surprisingly disarming. When he wants something he asks winsomely and he takes rejection manfully not crying or even looking put out. In consequence he is much more likely to get what he wants than his siblings and is often put up to ask for joint treats. He is generally very biddable, falling in easily with other people’s plans and wishes. However, occasionally, he does not want to do something and then it is absolutely pointless to try to persuade him. He has a will of iron and it is extraordinary to see someone so willowy possessed of absolute and unwavering resolution. If Michael is determined to do or not to do something then generally the rest of us fall in with his wishes. It’s a power he uses relatively rarely but we all recognise it when we see it.

He has no real interest in school work and thinks it is largely pointless but he does it because it is harder to resist and he is, as I say, easygoing. He generally doesn’t make much of an effort. It is pointless to indicate what other people might expect as he is absolutely indifferent to the views of others. He does care about their feelings but he is not working to anyone’s agenda but his own. He has an independence of mind which I find amazing and very admirable.

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I do worry sometimes that his lack of interest in school may be because he is the youngest in his class (only by 20 minutes and my control sample indicates that this is not necessarily an issue). After his brother the next youngest child is three months older than him and some of the children are a full year older than him. His teachers have always said that he is fine though so I suppose it is a bit of a spurious concern but something has to keep me awake at night.

Michael is not interested in Irish or French and has made far less effort to engage with both than either of his siblings. He doesn’t really see the point. Although he did offer to read a book in French the other day in exchange for some monetary reward, so he may be beginning to see a use for languages other than English. When I think that when we came back to Ireland first he used to speak French to Daniel rather than English. Oh well.

He absolutely loves to read. At the moment he is working his way steadily through Terry Pratchett’s offerings and since we have all read these we can talk about them together which is not the case for “Spy Dogs”. He still loves picture books and Asterix and Tintin remain firm favourites as well as Snoopy, Big Nate and Diary of a Wimpy Kid. He re-reads books over and over again.

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He also loves playing Minecraft and watching endless instructional videos on the computer. He is fond of playing Skylanders on the x-box also. He loves the social aspect of interacting with other children (I hope) on these games.

He is extremely affectionate and unconditionally loves his mother. Once I inadvertently turned off the x-box and lost loads of progress on some game and he was really cross. I was very contrite but he remained cross until after lunch. I am not unused to his siblings being cross with me but it struck me forcibly that this was the most extended period of time that Michael had been cross with me. In general he is never cross with me. He is unashamed, nay delighted, to hold my hand or hug me in public.

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He is the family peacemaker and is generally trying to broker compromise between warring factions. He can, however, tease his brother and then assume a look of saintly innocence which is known, to his great chagrin as his “mischief face.” He and his sister hardly ever fight. He is not much inclined to go in for confrontation. When asked to help around the house he tends to slip quietly away. “Michael, will you unload the dishwasher please?” “No thank you,” he says sliding out the kitchen door. Alternatively he will do what you ask. He will never say, “No! It’s not fair.” He has seen that approach fail elsewhere and uses his own much more successful methods.

He is very concerned about the future of the planet. He is always turning off lights, trying to conserve water and generally environmentally conscious. In November 2013 he made us start to walk to school. Before this we drove in every morning. I am enormously grateful to him for this as walking in to school with the children in the morning is generally one of the nicest parts of my day. Without his determination, I think this would never have happened. Some way before we get to the last traffic lights before the school, he kisses me goodbye and says, “If the traffic lights are green, goodbye.” And I watch him running down the pavement, his rucksack bouncing on his back, weaving between office workers and tourists looking small but infinitely self-possessed and a part of my heart travels with him.

Daniel at 9

29 November, 2014
Posted in: Middle Child, Twins

It’s just over two months since Daniel turned 9 so this is not exactly a timely birthday post but never mind.

Physically, Daniel is the sturdiest of my children, the other two tending towards willowy/super skinny.  He is taller than his brother and nearly as tall as his older sister (a source of some distress to her).  He still has the most beautiful white gold hair and occasionally I will say to him at dinner, “Your hair is lovely this evening.”  A remark which he invariably treats with withering contempt.  He really needs his glasses and reaches for them first thing in the morning without fail.  He now has grown up square glasses which is what he wants but I pine for the adorable round ones he used to have.

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Daniel is very sporty.  Unfortunately for him, no one else in his immediate family is.  He always wants to be kicking a football but there is nobody to kick a football with.  He has GAA training twice a week and a match every weekend but he is still very keen to begin rugby and soccer training (which we have steadfastly resisted on the grounds that it is hard enough for us to meet his existing sporting commitments).  He plays his heart out every time.  Last weekend, I went to watch him play.  One of the players on the other team was as broad as he was tall.  He was enormous in every way and also quite a skillful player.  Although Daniel is sturdier than his brothers and sisters, he is still on the skinnier side of average and he must have been only half the size of this child.  He marked him with unrelenting fervour.  When this boy had the ball, Daniel stuck with him like glue.  Daniel went in with his shoulder (standard GAA instruction) but it was like a pebble hitting a mountain.  Still Daniel never gave up for the whole game.  He was “man of the match”.  I was filled with pride.  One of the other parents is always a bit cross with me and Mr. Waffle as we don’t give Daniel sufficient support at home; this is true, we are never to be seen in the garden tossing around a sliotar.  Poor Daniel; cursed by his family’s uselessness.

Brasil!
Sports photography is very challenging – this is the best I could do.

He is very thorough in his school work which is quite spectacularly neat.  The work is easy for him I think but he is anxious to do everything right and in this he reminds me of myself as a school girl.  He worries about lots of things.  I am a constant high risk as without the slightest warning I may kiss or hug him in public possibly even near the school.  As we approach the school in the morning, he usually has a hand out to stop any unwelcome and embarrassing physical contact.

He has high standards for all of us, a developing sense of duty and a very kind nature. That can be quite a frustrating combination for him on occasion and I think he sometimes despairs of his family. This can make him quite cross and inclined to leave in what Myles na gCopaleen called that “lofty vehicle, high dudgeon.”

He is very polite and will always ask solicitously at dinner, “How was your day?” He hasn’t totally got up to speed on appearing interested in the answer yet but that will come. On the phone, he always asks, “How are you?” And waits politely for your reply.

He is thorough at home also and if asked to do a job around the house will usually do it well and complete it – perhaps not happily – but resignedly.   His instincts, I think, are tidy.  However, he leaves his shoes wherever he decides to take them off which drives me to the brink of madness as I find them by tripping over them again.  Also, his socks never seem to make it to the laundry basket and I find them in a range of unlikely places.

He loves Minecraft and plants v. zombies.  He is only allowed to play the x-box at the weekends and even as I write he is blowing things up in the room next door.  During the week when not allowed on the x-box, he uses his computer time to watch videos about minecraft of which there seem to be an everlasting supply (Dan the Diamond Mine Cart anyone?).  He and his siblings have spent the last month building Harry Potter’s world in Minecraft and on the walk to school this is sometimes all they talk about.

He likes to read but it pales in comparison to the excitement offered by electronic devices. On television, he is very taken with Dr. Who and Father Ted.  He loves Fr. Jack whom I find very dull but each to his own.  It is lovely to see him laughing hysterically because he can sometimes be a very serious child who takes injustice to heart, particularly as it relates to time on electronic devices.

He continues to be very good at picking up accents.  Five minutes with someone with a different accent and he will be speaking like that person.   He is fond of Americanisms and many things are “awesome”.  His Irish seems pretty good and he can still understand French and make the fiendishly hard vowel sounds. He has a really lovely singing voice which he largely refuses to use.  He joined the church choir for a bit but had to give up as it clashed with GAA practice.  He sings in the school choir and I think he quite enjoys it but he does find the spotlight mildly alarming.  He often says the prayer of the faithful at mass and he speaks very loudly and clearly.  I really admire his courage as he is quite nervous about speaking in front of a church full(ish) of people but grits his teeth and does it anyway.

He is interested in all kinds of things.  Last night he came down to tell us that the cat was throwing up in his room and while Mr. Waffle went to kindly deal with this domestic disaster, Daniel and I looked at maps showing the origin of European words which Mr. Waffle and I had been perusing prior to his arrival (hello, and welcome to nerdville).   Daniel seemed genuinely interested although I conceded it may just have been better than the cat getting sick but I don’t think so.  He is a strong reader of fact books and I know a lot about “Ripley’s Believe it or Not” facts thanks to him and I think this fell into a similar category.

He continues to resist eating most savoury foods.  There was great rejoicing here in Waffle Towers when the sausage was recently added to the list of acceptable foods.  Usually for dinner he has crackers or toast.  Fortunately, he likes milk, porridge and bread so I hope that this keeps him going.  After all, it worked for the medieval peasants. He also has hot chocolate which is his favourite thing.

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Like all children, he fights with his siblings, particularly his sister. He and she are quite alike and since she is two years older, she often wins by dint of superior knowledge and cunning which drives him bananas.  He is more inclined to fight physically with his brother giving him a shove rather than a verbal dig but mostly they get on very well as they have so many interests in common. I often find their conversations utterly incomprehensible as they discuss arcane aspects of Dr. Who or the advice of eyeballistic squid (?).

Despite his unwillingness to appear related to me in public he is an affectionate child in private.  It is nice to get a hug from him as like everything he does, he really puts his heart into it.  He is so keen to grow up and be big.  He can’t wait to be sixteen so that he can get “HALO”.   I hope he will still be hugging me then.

Eco Warrier

22 November, 2014
Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

Me: Michael, stop turning off all the lights. I don’t want to be fumbling around in the dark whenever I go into the hall.
Him: Electricity is very expensive.
Me: I know, I pay the bills.
Him: We will all be paying the bills.

Don’t Judge Me

21 November, 2014
Posted in: Hodge, Middle Child, Twins

On Wednesday night I came in late. Daniel had made cheesy shapes in the afternoon and one of them was lying on the kitchen floor. I picked it up, blew on it and ate it. I did have some qualms but, you know, the floor was clean, I had blown on it [protection against all known germs], I was hungry and otherwise the cheesy shape would have gone in the bin. I noticed it seemed to have lost its cheese on the way to the floor and was mostly cheese flavoured dough.

I came back to the kitchen ten minutes later and there was another cheesy shape on the floor without its cheese. How could this be? Everyone was in bed. Who could have taken a cheesy shape from the plate on the counter, put it on the floor and eaten off all the cheese? That’s when I realised I had shared the previous cheesy shape with the cat. I put the next one in the bin.

21st Century Parenting

9 November, 2014
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins

We went for a walk on the west pier in Dun Laoghaire this afternoon. I said to the children that we might see seals, which we did. My evil genius prompted me to ask, “Does anyone know what the French for seal is?” They didn’t. It’s le phoque. I thought that Daniel was actually going to choke with laughter when he heard.

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This by way of background to conversation on the way home in the car.

Mr. Waffle: If we’re going to listen to your music, we’re going to have to listen to some of mine also.
Daniel: Oh French seal!
Herself: Bruce Springsteen? Is this part of your mid-life crisis again?

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