belgianwaffle

Youngest Child

A Mixed Report


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

Youngest child is back in the bosom of his family after 5 long months doing an Erasmus term in Liège in Belgium. His family has hardly seen him since his return since he has been extremely busy picking up the threads of his social life.

He wanted to go to Belgium on his Erasmus trip as he was born there and felt he ought to know it a bit better. His university had links to Liège so that’s where he went.

He did not love it. His accommodation was on the new (1980s) campus in the forest. It only had a couple of faculties (the main campus remains in the city) and no shops or restaurants and a very irregular bus ride to the city which was a 20 minute drive away on the motorway. There was no train which really surprised me. The Belgian students all lived in the city or at home and had no interest in getting to know someone who had joined their course in the middle of third year. His only social outlet was the other Erasmus students (many of them also stuck in the accommodation in the forest campus) and these were, perhaps, more friendships of convenience, like the guy who had a car. Belgian universities don’t have extensive clubs and societies like Irish universities so there was no chance for him to find like minded students. So not a total triumph.

However, I feel it did him good. To be fair to him, he organised himself to go to all the Flemish cities. He also went to Brussels, Maastricht and Luxembourg. He went to Budapest for the Hungarian election (something I don’t think he would have done from Dublin – budget airline and hostel accommodation but he really enjoyed it). He has a whole new found appreciation for the people who do laundry and make dinner at home. It’s not like he wasn’t grateful before but now he appreciates home comforts. His French has really improved and he had to do exams in 4 or 5 subjects in French as well as a couple in English and, mercifully, he does not have to return to resit anything.

Overall, I would say it has been good for him but it would be great if it could have enjoyed it more. Mr. Waffle was chatting to one of the neighbours on the road and it turned out that she had done her Erasmus year in Liège about 20 years ago and loved it, so it is possible. Though she stayed in the city which I’d say was a help.

Still youngest child is thinking about what he might do after college next year and he said he might try to get an internship in Brussels which is not something I think he would have thought of before. So, a win, I guess. I’m not sure that is entirely his view though.

One for Sorrow


Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins, Youngest Child

A magpie got into the utility room. When I returned from my tennis this morning, all of the utility room windows were covered with towels and the back door was open. Mr. Waffle (himself returned from his run where he had a 5k personal best, who even are we any more?) was trying to help the bird to leave the house and the towels were to discourage it from banging itself against the windows, a process which was unlikely to yield positive results. Our two children at home had already cravenly fled the coop (bird pun intended) leaving Mr. Waffle and the cat to tackle the problem as best they might (hard to say that the cat was really a help as such).

I went upstairs to have a shower and when I came down I went into the utility room confident that I could resolve the issue but what I would say is that a magpie is a large and slightly intimidating bird in a small space. I hotfooted it back to the kitchen and closed the door behind me. I pointed out to Mr. Waffle that, historically, the issue of birds in the house fell to his lot. “Why?” he said plaintively. “It’s bigger than all of us, probably the patriarchy,” I said and then proceeded to flee the house like my craven offspring.

This rather bitter message arrived in the family group chat some time later:

Mr. Magpie has left. Thanks to all who stayed to help.

In case anyone was unclear, he added: That was sarcasm.

Untitled

A Successful Campaign of Indoctrination


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Herself cycles in London; middle child cycles in Dublin; even youngest child is prepared to give it a go occasionally. I feel I have secured them for the cycling revolution.

I was surprised and delighted to discover that the middle child – with no prompting from me – has, this summer, begun to cycle longer distances with friends for fun. To Maynooth (about 30kms away); to Greystones (also about 30kms away); and back! I feel an inner sense of achievement, I can tell you.

Nine Lives


Posted in: Hodge, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

I’ve got a bit out of the habit of blogging recently. This is a shame because it is the only way I remember anything.

So, baby steps here, let me tell you about the (relatively brief) trauma of June 16. The cat went out the front door about 7 in the evening. Sometimes she likes to sit on the front step and survey her kingdom. She usually starts to meow to get back in about an hour later. On this evening, about 10.30, there was still no sign of her. Mr. Waffle and I walked up and down the road calling her name (does she know her name? I doubt it). I kept an eye out for a corpse in the middle of the (very quiet) road. I thought death was the only thing that would stop her coming back to enjoy the comforts of home.

Mr. Waffle goes to bed at 10.45 and feeds the cat then. From about 10.15 she sits on the corner of the rug keeping a weather eye on his movements. This prolonged absence so near feeding time was very unlike her. I put out a message on the road group chat and people started hunting for her in their gardens. Could she have dragged herself off to die somewhere of natural causes? Like all of us, she’s not getting any younger; 17 this year. I began to wonder how I would tell the children of the death of their beloved cat. My own cat died while I was teaching English in Italy and my mother felt it would upset me to know so I was kept in ignorance. When I went to visit my friend in Switzerland (train from Rome very exciting) who had seen everyone at home more recently than me, I asked her how everyone was and all was well until I came to the cat. “The cat is dead Anne,” said she baldly. So, you know, a moment I didn’t want to repeat for my children.

At 10.44, one minute before feeding time and about 10 minutes after my anxious alert to the neighbours, there was a meowing at the front door. She was back! It took a lot out of us. She seems fine, thanks for asking.

Untitled

We Love to See It


Posted in: Middle Child, Twins, Youngest Child

My beloved youngest child returns from his Erasmus term abroad tomorrow (he’s been gone since the start of February, so long). I asked my beloved middle child who seems to have enjoyed being the only child in the house whether the return of a much beloved brother on Wednesday was a source of joy. “What, Wednesday, already?” yelped middle child. Apparently not counting the days.

Enterprising


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

Youngest child is not loving his Erasmus location. I mean it’s ok but it compares unfavourably with the fun he was having in Dublin. My sister went out to visit him to support his drooping spirits and it seems to have gone reasonably well.

He was home for Easter which he enjoyed very much though we hardly saw him as he was off with his friends the whole time. Which is what you want, I guess.

While home, he announced to us that he was thinking of flying to Budapest for the Hungarian elections. What would seem crazy from Dublin somehow seemed grand from the continent. I mean it was still a long flight. But off he went and he had the time of his life. He sent us video footage from the count party including himself chanting opposition party slogans in Hungarian (at least that’s what I thought they were and presumably that’s what he thought as well – his Hungarian wouldn’t be great).

Untitled Untitled

More generally he pronounced Budapest to be satisfactory.

Untitled

Apparently travel is broadening.