belgianwaffle

Youngest Child

Outnumbered


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

Last night, the Princess had a friend to stay. All the children went to bed at 9 o’clock. At 10.00 we trapped the boys in our bed and they finally went to sleep. At about 10.30 a very loud alarm in a local municipal facility went off. Phone calls to authorities led to the information that nobody could turn it off. The Princess and her friend came downstairs to complain about the noise. We said that they could sleep in our bed (at the back of the house). We transferred the sleeping boys back to their own beds from ours and in hopped the girls. At 11.30 we decanted the girls and were finally able to get into our own bed. We were delighted. True, four other people had already slept in it that evening, but parents have low standards.

Oh yeah, while we were waiting to get to bed, appropriately enough, we watched the DVD box set of “Outnumbered” which is distressingly accurate.

Virtual Reality


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

There has been much snow here recently. Instead of being excited about it and running out to play, the children have been unenthused, running into the house complaining of being cold. This is a far cry from my youth when we would scrape up every scrap of snow in the garden (never very much) to make a snowman.

You can imagine then my excitement the other day when Michael said, “Mummy, I want to play a game with a snowflake”. I replied, “Of course, sweetheart, let’s get your coat and your wellies on.” “No, I don’t want to play with a snowflake outside!” “But Michael,” I protested, “all the snow is outside.” “No, no, no, I want to play a game with snowflakes on the computer.”

Christmas Traditions


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

When we lived in Belgium, Saint Nicolas used to come on December 6 on his donkey and leave chocolate in children’s shoes. You had to leave out beer for Saint Nicolas and a carrot for the donkey. Then Santa came on December 25. Then, thanks to the kind intervention of our Italian upstairs neighbours, the Befana came on January 6 bearing sweets.

The first year we came back from Belgium, Saint Nicolas came to Ireland, Santa came, of course, and the Befana came too. Last year, only Saint Nicolas and Santa came. This year, in the context of the current economic climate, all having to tighten our belts etc, etc., only Santa was due to visit. And that was going fine until the Princess came home speaking about Black Peter – she had been learning about Christmas traditions in other countries at school. “But surely,” I said stupidly, “you remember Père Fouettard.”

Her little face lit up, “Oh yes, when is Saint Nicolas coming?” Again, slightly caught on the hop, I said, “Oh, he comes on the 6th and that’s long gone, he’s not coming this year, I’d say Santa’s taking over his duties.” There was much weeping and wailing. Then the Princess looked at me shrewdly and said, “When does the Befana come?” I see the Befana making a comeback in this jurisdiction.

The Princess, is proving slightly trying in the matter of Santa more generally. Sample question delivered in front of her brothers: If there is no Tooth Fairy and no Easter Bunny, how do you know there’s a Santa? I see dangerous shoals ahead. Next year I am looking forward to questions on the nativity.

And finally in this rather miscellaneous category: it is the time of year for infant classes to put on nativity plays. We have two shepherds in our house (am very envious of colleague with 4 children who counts a Joseph and a Mary among their number). Religion can be faulted on many grounds but certainly the selection of music available for Christmas is not one of them. Some of the most beautiful songs are Christmas carols. Why is it then that children always end up singing the rather dreary “Away in a Manger”? Furthermore, our lads have also added to their repertoire the classic “Hosanna rock, hosanna roll” which sounds pretty much as you might imagine. I suppose if I continue in this strain, it is only a matter of time before I begin campaigning to restore the Latin mass.

Keeping Warmish


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

Michael is interested in hot water bottles. For a long time, he would insist on a bottle filled with cold water to take to bed with him. He would cradle it in his arms and murmur affectionately to it, “Coldy, coldy.” Recently, my mother gave him a hot water bottle with a cover and he has started to take this to bed with him filled with hot water. For reasons best known to himself, he puts it under his head rather than under his feet.

Tempting


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

Michael does not like much. The long list of foods he will not touch includes sweets. For special occasions he likes crisps (or cwisps as he refers to them).

This morning I got this email from my husband.

From: Husband
Sent: 24 November 2010 12:37
To: Wife
Subject: Sounds like one for Michael

From the journal:

TAYTO PARK: The world’s first theme park dedicated to the humble crisp, Tayto Park, opens today. Launched on 55 acres of Meath farmland by crisp king Ray Coyle, the park will create 85 jobs and offer children the chance to visit Santa, experience a Native American village or, er, eat Irish crisps.

I thought you would like to know.

Ireland’s National Sport


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

I think I have written before about how surprised I was to come back from 5 years abroad and discover that rugby had become Ireland’s national sport. It suffered from a number of difficulties in the past, namely, the GAA used to frown on “foreign games” and it’s dangerous – particularly for amateurs. On the plus side, it seems to be the only team sport where we do well in international competition. Now the GAA doesn’t care and my sons are coached by Daddies in rugby shirts. It’s still dangerous though.

Regular readers will recall that my children go to an Irish language school. For historical reasons, one might not expect that to be a bastion of rugby. Further, the Princess’s teacher is from Mayo. Insofar as there is national expertise in rugby, its seat is emphatically not in the West of Ireland. This has not deterred this teacher who is an avid rugby fan. During gym, my daughter’s class have been practicising the haka. She has taught her brothers. They look deeply alarming when they do this. We all sat and watched the New Zealand players doing their haka this evening before Ireland proceeded to lose to New Zealand. As I have previously mentioned, the Princess knows all the words to Ireland’s call and sang along with gusto. Where will it all end?