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Youngest Child

St Blaise


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

About this time last year I took Michael to Cork. It was the feast of St. Blaise. When I was a child, I was always taken to get my throat blessed. I liked the drama of it. The priest takes two candles, crosses them and puts them on either side of your throat while praying to St. Blaise that he will protect you from throat illnesses (this is his thing). After mass that Sunday when Michael and I were in Cork together, they were blessing throats. I described the process to Michael and asked whether he would like to give it a try. No. It was only on the way home I realised that I should have explained that the candles were not lit and that it was fear of being set aflame that was putting him off rather than his normal antipathy to religion.

Maybe this year.

Weekend Round-Up


Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland, Twins, Youngest Child

On Saturday we went to an old friend’s house for lunch. We’ve lost touch a bit over the years for no reason really just continuing our busy lives. It was delightful but, regrettably, we can never have them back as their house is undoubtedly the tidiest and one of the most beautiful we have visited. I particularly admired the floors which were varnished and had no gaps between the planks. They made the builders re-lay them as “you could see the foil backing of the insulation underneath in the gaps!” As I sit here looking at the foil backing in the insulation visible in the gaps between my floorboards, I can’t help wishing that Mr. Waffle and I were more forceful people. I am often reminded of Mr. Bennett’s assessment of Jane and Bingley when I think of us:

“Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will always exceed you income.”

I am not sure about the generosity but I can vouch for exceeding our income.

After visiting our friends, we called around to the grandparents. Of late, Michael has become obsessed with getting home before dark. It is hard to be home before dark all the time in January. Michael spent his time looking reproachfully out the window which made for a not entirely restful visit.

Sunday saw the Princess up to do the first reading at mass. This was a huge relief as the second reading which she normally gets was 1 Corinthians 6:13-15,17-20. One of the unfortunate teenagers had to work her way, very gamely, through that one.

On Sunday afternoon we prodded the children out. They were not happy. We went into town to get Herself runners and wandered around Trinity a bit aimlessly. We went into the Book of Kells and the Long Room library – interest levels from boys despite being told that it was the model for the Jedi archives (or was it): zero.

It’s nice though:

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And it was all pretty empty on a late Sunday afternoon in January. Of course, we weren’t home before dark. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth in outer darkness.

Epiphany


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

I always thought this was the last day of Christmas but the priest said firmly at mass last Sunday that it is not over until next Sunday. I am doubtful but I suppose he knows best. It seems sad that by the time Epiphany or Women’s Christmas rolls around everyone is back at school and work and it is grim January at it worst. When I was small, I think it was a holiday but not any more. Still, this evening as I came up the road in the dark, I saw that all the neighbours have their trees up and lit and they looked beautiful.

This evening Mr. Waffle made dinner and cleaned up as it was Women’s Christmas (unfair when he also helped to wash up after dinner on Christmas Day but there you are, he is paying for the sins of the patriarchy). He and I and the boys played 110 in which Michael channelled my mother and overbid outrageously. Like his Nana, he is lucky though and has a good feeling for cards so he survived. So far have I gone from my roots that I had to text my father to double check whether the rules allowed for reneging on the ace of trumps (he thinks not). I was surprised how enjoyable it was. We played in two pairs as my poor first born was the picture of misery from a nasty cold and not up to the effort of cards. After the boys went to bed, she and I watched the end of singalong “Sound of Music” later which we both enjoyed considerably more than her father.

So that’s the end of Christmas for me whatever the parish priest may feel. Tomorrow we say goodbye to our tree. Alas.

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It’s All Going So Well


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

We had a bit of a fractious lunch today and Michael went around spreading oil on troubled waters, effecting reconciliation between the warring parties. We then had the following conversation.

Me: Michael, you are a great peacemaker; ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, they shall be called children of God.’
Michael: Oh, well that’s not much good to me as I don’t believe in God.
Mr. Waffle: Well, “Blessed are the meek, they shall inherit the earth.” So that’s better.
Michael: Hmm.
Me (curiously): Why don’t you believe in God?
Him: It’s just impossible. [Pause] In fact, I think that the gods of the ancient world are actually much more believable.

Maybe he’ll grow into it.

Naughty or Nice?


Posted in: Middle Child, Twins, Youngest Child

Michael: Are the Santa traps in place?
Daniel: Yes.
Michael: Don’t say what they are, he might hear us.
Daniel: What will we do if we catch him?
Michael: We’ll tiptoe up and then…boom, a knife straight to the heart!
Me (yelping): What?
Michael: He’s a stalker, “he knows when you’re asleep/he knows when you’re awake” and then he goes creeping around people’s houses at night.
Daniel: And those elves, they don’t get paid and if they don’t work hard enough, he tosses them out in the snow.

What are we to make of this, gentle reader?

Saint Nicolas, Patron des Ecoliers


Posted in: Belgium, Twins, Youngest Child

Did I mention that, on the 6th of December, Saint Nicolas came to our house? We did think that since it is now 6 and a half years since we have lived in a jurisdiction where he has authority, he might give us a skip but the children were adamant that no, he should come. I blame myself. I offered Daniel 50 cents to read a French book aloud. He picked “T’choupi fête Noël” which had the dual advantage of being seasonal and short. As he read aloud the doings of the festive mole, it all came flooding back.

So, in fairness to him, at quite short notice, St. Nicolas came in line with expectations. He just brought some chocolates and crisps in accordance with his reduced obligations in this jurisdiction. This did not stop Michael sleeping on the floor beside his bedroom door in a state of advanced excitement or him waking me at 6.30 in some distress as Saint Nicolas had brought him the wrong type of crisps.