belgianwaffle

Stereotyping


Posted in: Ireland, Reading etc.

My friend from Belfast was telling me about his friend also from Belfast who has moved into the top floor of an old Georgian house. His friend has loads of books and the movers found getting the stuff up to the top floor very trying. Towards the end of the day, the man who was moving house, found one of the movers lying on the floor saying, “I can’t take it anymore, don’t make me move another box.” “Typical Belfast labourer,” snorted my friend.

Somehow, if you’d asked me what a typical Belfast labourer was like, I would have said words like, tough and hardworking. I don’t think my expectation would be that they would lie down on the floor and give up. It just goes to show that stereotyping is misleading.

Daniel at 11


Posted in: Middle Child, Twins

As Daniel said, I am finally, finally getting around to his birthday post. Better late than never.

He has started reading this blog with mild interest; he commented to Michael as he read, “I didn’t know Mummy was funny.” I suppose I can take that how I like. He was a bit offended to see that I said that he had a low pain threshold so I am honour bound to point out that on the very day of his birthday he got a lash of a hurley on his thumb and the coaches thought it might be broken. Daniel stoically trained through the pain. It was not, in fact, broken but it did swell up in an alarming way for a couple of days. He is now recovered, you will be happy to hear.

Daniel is definitely our sportiest child. He trains twice a week and has matches at the weekend. He usually has some kind of injury. In addition to the thumb incident above, he had to hop around the school for a couple of days the other week due to a toe injury; I think he might have some kind of floating body in his knee and as I write he has a scalded tongue (non-sport related but there is always something). He is nonetheless undeterred from his sporting endeavours and throws his heart into every match and every practice.

I am unable to find any record of his constant sportiness but have a serious shot of him as Michael Collins:

2016-03-16 07.24.38He likes to read – Horrible Histories, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, things about Arsenal. He also likes to watch youtube videos. He is a big fan of FIFA video games narrated on youtube. He also loves to read poetry and following the cull by his sister has ended up with quite a number of lovely books which I often see him flicking through.

UntitledI took the children to a performance called “Katie’s Party” during the theatre festival. It was a one woman show for children exploring the theme of moving from primary school to secondary school. Daniel really enjoyed it but he is also very nervous about the prospect of moving to secondary school. This is probably not helped by seeing his sister getting through mountains of homework and being a bit of a perfectionist himself. I think I should try to get him to the theatre a bit more as he really seems to be entranced by the couple of things he has seen.

UntitledHe gets on well with his brother but feels that he has to mind him. Mr. Waffle often says that it is like we have two eldest children and even though Daniel is only 20 minutes older than his brother, he definitely acts like he is a good year older. This is helped by the fact that he is considerably taller and broader. I sometimes think that it is a bit unfair on him that we expect so much from him but he is very responsible and often volunteers for tasks.

UntitledHe is utterly reliable and very helpful. If you ask him to do something, he will generally get it done. On Saturday mornings he can’t play on the x-box until he has unloaded the dishwasher and, faithfully, every Saturday morning, he does it. As he is usually first up, it falls to him. Just like his father, he is an early bird and he is often up early in the morning. I hardly ever need to wake him up in the morning.

2016-06-06 14.29.02He finds his sister’s access to electronic devices very galling. Now that she has a phone and an iPad, he is on the verge of expiry from envy. He has a strong sense of injustice and this drives him crazy. He also points to her trips to London and Paris with some bitterness and although we have said that these things will come when he is bigger, I don’t think that he is convinced by us. Yet sometimes, notwithstanding everything, he and his sister can be very friendly; they share lots of interests and I hear them laughing uproariously together.

169Daniel is very musical. This fills me with guilt. Have I repaired the piano? I have not. He has basically taught himself to play the tin whistle and I hear him picking out tunes on that most unforgiving of instruments with considerable success and no support from his parents. He is shy though and unwilling to play or sing outside the immediate family. He sings in the church choir and has been doing increasing numbers of readings and prayers of the faithful which he does very well and very clearly. He tells me that he is nervous but he does not sound it.

His French comprehension is still pretty good and he really makes an effort to speak as well. He needs some lessons, I think but he is a bit committed with his sporting engagements and he said to me, “It’s either music or French but I can’t do both.” I think he might be right.

609He really enjoys quizzes and answering questions but it can be a challenge at home as his sister tends to cut across him. At school though, he is really coming into his own. His table is winning general knowledge stars and he is loving it. He is fascinated by facts and it is standing him in good stead. Generally, I think he enjoys school and he is loving his teacher for this year who is excellent. He has had a really good run of teachers in primary school with one notable exception. I think he’s probably easy to teach: obliging, clever, hardworking. I understand that he helps other children in the class, if they are lost and is very patient at explaining.

UntitledHe can get distracted from doing his homework and let it drift on for hours. This drives him bananas but he seems unable to stop himself staring at the ceiling unless we prod him. He gets this from me. Another thing that he gets from me is that he is tidy. He is the only one of my children who is naturally reasonably tidy. He and I spent a happy morning organising his bookshelves by author a couple of weeks ago. It’s holding up wonderfully and every time I go into his room, it fills me with mild happiness – him too, I think.

UntitledWhen I take him out on his own without the other two, he really blossoms. He loves the attention and is so engaging and loves the mildest treat. Even when I took himself and Michael to the Sugar Loaf the other day – not his idea of an amazing treat – Michael ran on ahead and he and I walked down together and he was delighted and we had a lovely chat.

UntitledI can see the outlines of the adult he will someday become, he is in many ways a very mature 11 year old. He is moving firmly towards adolescent and a small part of me misses the adorable little boy which he is placing determinedly behind him. I suppose that this is what parenthood is all about and I am very proud of him and and how he is growing up. Seeing him change reminds me vividly how lucky I am to be his mother and how much he has grown in the last 11 years.

Michael at 11


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

A belated update on my younger son who was 11 on September 27, so not quite two months ago yet.

Michael has settled firmly down into the niche of youngest, adorable child. I understand that as he snuggles up to me, he often mouths “brownie points” at his brother and sister but I don’t care and, what’s more, he knows I don’t care. I find him very easy to be with and easy to get on with; obliging, pleasant and entertaining.

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He is a total home bird and knows no greater happiness than to be left to hang around the house all day and not be forced out on some outing. Once he gets out he can be cheerful enough but it is the leaving home that he finds tiresome.

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Picture from a particularly unsuccessful expedition which his parents forced him to go out on:
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He has become obsessed with complex board games which go on for days and are utterly baffling to me. If let, he would spend all his time watching young men narrating how to play board games on youtube.

He still loves to read and his bedroom, the smallest in the house, as he will tell you with some bitterness, is crammed to the rafters with books from all ages.

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He is as fond still as looking at old picture books as of reading the latest Percy Jackson or the telephone book sized Codex of some game involving 24 dice and innumerable expensive plastic figurines.

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I caught him reading in the dark the other night. “You’ll ruin your eyesight,” I said. “That’s a myth actually,” he replied with all the dignity of someone caught reading when he should be sound asleep. His sister’s bedroom is strictly off limits to everyone in the house and boy do we know it. Michael has been caught sneaking in there to get out some of her more choice books. “Why don’t you wait until she gets home from school and ask to borrow them?” I ask despairingly as herself harangues me about her privacy. “Meh, can’t wait,” he says blithely. After a particularly painful recent discussion with his sister, I am hopeful that he will ask in future.

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Michael is a born performer. They had a contest in school involving developing a pretend radio station interview and he won hands down. His teacher tells me that the other children chant his name and beg for him to do the reading out loud. I asked Michael about this and he said, “Now you know why I don’t like it when there are so many characters in a book. It’s exhausting to do different voices for all of them.”

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He still loves scouts. This September he got made a seconder (a sixer is head of a little troop and a seconder is second in command). He was confident that this would come to pass but none the less very pleased when it actually did. He steadily refuses to join other clubs or societies, although his secondary school has a games club where his sister is already a member and I imagine he will join there when he starts next year, much to her chagrin.

He loves history and has finished off Civilisation V (history in the largest sense), is a massive fan of Horrible Histories and recently has spent a great deal of time looking at alternative histories on youtube. On the way home from his grandparents this evening we had a vigourous family discussion on what would have happened to the Home Rule Bill, if World War I had in fact been over by Christmas. Let me summarise for you, we don’t know, but everyone got very heated all the same. It beat our conversation about the Kardashians on the way out. Mildly amusing comment from Michael: “They’re real? That explains so much.”

He continues to be the peacemaker although his brother and sister maintain that he uses his charm to get away with murder and that they do much more around the house which does not entirely contribute to peace in our little household.

He has a wonderful teacher this year and is really enjoying school which is terrific.

He still does not love sports but they had a recent competition with another school and he got a medal for being best boy on his team and he was really filled with pride and delight and we were thrilled for him. He is a pretty competent cyclist now and we can cycle into town without me nearly losing my life.

He quite took to pool (or possibly snooker, I am no expert here) but I am not sure that counts as a sport.
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He is sentimental and refuses to part with anything. In particular, he refuses to part with any of his old clothes and as he is growing many of his trousers are flapping around his ankles and lots of his tops reach only just below his elbows. It is economical but I would willingly pay for new clothes, if he would wear them. Michael has appeared over my shoulder and said, “I would, if they were not itchy.” It’s just so hard to determine what will be deemed itchy. Also, he continues to be extremely skinny and as he grows taller it’s hard to find trousers that can be sufficiently tightened at the waist and are sufficiently long in the leg. Of late, he has stopped wearing the hood of his hoodie up every minute of the day. As this has been replaced by wearing his coat with the hood up until dinner time, I am not sure it can be counted as an improvement.

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This is the only pair of trousers aside from his school and scout uniforms which now fit Michael. Unfortunately, they have to be washed from time to time.
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He is soft-hearted. He is always kind and gentle with small children and very patient. We were watching the youtube clip on Jimmy Kimmel of parents telling children that they had eaten their Halloween sweets and Michael walked away because he didn’t want to watch as it was mean. Which, to be honest, it is. Though, kind of funny, if you are heartless, which Michael definitely is not.

He gets on well with his brother and sister and though they can definitely find him exasperating, they are not entirely immune to his charm. Also, he needs them for his board games as his parents are a dead loss. He continues to enjoy cards but would prefer if we went for slightly more challenging games that snap/beggar-my-neighbour. Sometimes, when I am feeling strong, we play 110 but I need to be in the whole of my health.

He continues to eat almost nothing. I’ve almost past trying at this stage. Thank God for cornflakes, milk, pizza, chips, ham, cod, yorkshire pudding and eggs. And I would like to apologise now about over-fishing.

Picture of Michael looking like a Victorian starving chimney sweep’s boy.

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We walk into school most mornings with his brother. I love it when the three of us walk in together and I am all the more conscious of it because this is our last year as next year they start in secondary school. I will miss our walks very much. I always give Michael credit for starting us walking in in the first place due to his concerns about the environment (which still continue). It has been lovely for us all, I think.

As he gets older, he is less of a daredevil. Although he continues to be a demon on the bumpers and super speedy on ziplines, I can now let him cross the road with confidence which is a huge relief to me and to him.

All in all, he is wonderful to be with: kind, caring, funny and gentle. It is lovely to watch him growing up.

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The Migraineur or a Victorian Afternoon


Posted in: Reading etc.

I woke up this morning with a migraine and after a trip to the shops to buy bread this morning, gave up the effort and went back to bed and didn’t get up again until an hour ago. Alas. I feel alright now but not fantastic. The light of the screen is making my eyeballs a bit sore. Don’t say I’m not devoted to this NaBloPoMo. I trust that by tomorrow, I will be restored to full health. Something for all of us to look forward to.

Punishing


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

I took the day off work today. This week was mid-term and the children were at home. Well, herself was on a course, but the boys were at home. I think she enjoyed her course but it was quite tiring; it was film making and it seemed to involve a lot of hanging around on set. She told me an interesting thing though. They had a make-up guy in and he mentioned that when making up women, he always makes them up to look good first and then adds cuts and bruises or skulls and blood (they were making a horror film). And apparently this is what happens when they are making real films as well which I think explains a lot.

Anyhow, it was a beautiful day. I decided to take the boys up the Sugar Loaf. They were not delighted. “Why,” said Michael bitterly, “are we being punished?” Apparently his father had told him that he could stay in bed all day – something Mr. Waffle denies. Anyhow, they came, resignedly.

It was lovely and even the boys found it moderately enjoyable. We had a picnic at the top.

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It was somewhat windy and chilly but the views were good.

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The boys are both faster and fitter than me but I made it down eventually, only slipping and falling over a couple of times (not particularly painful as on grass on the lower reaches but the mortification was considerable). Daniel was travelling at my slower pace and was very solicitous. I felt about 90. We came home about 4 and lit a fire and did nothing for the rest of the day which was pleasing for all of us.

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And imagine, today is only Friday, I have the whole weekend at home stretching out ahead of me. And Mr. Waffle who, alas, is going to have to work this weekend (his deadline is Wednesday and each member of our little family is counting the days), has promised to take time out to take Daniel to his match tomorrow morning and let me stay in bed. Oh hurrah. Yes, I know, he’s a saint; isn’t he lucky he married someone who really appreciates saintliness.

Cork


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Travel

I took the children to Cork for the bank holiday weekend. We did the usual things: bonding with relatives, lots of TV, a trip to Charles Fort and the Bulman, the traditional photo by the “caution children” sign:

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The trip down was rendered exciting by a largish piece of plastic from the underside of the car coming off on the motorway (happily it came off near the edge of the road – no damage done to anyone). Our car has been with us since 2005 and, perhaps, this is a sign that we need a change before the NCT later this month.

Herself spent a couple of hours with my 87 year old aunt Marie Kondoing her house. They found my aunt’s birth certificate. She was born in California but returned to Cork aged about 2 and has found it perfectly acceptable ever since and has never, to my knowledge, pined for sunnier climes. I suppose she got it out of her system early. They kept the birth certificate.

Later, when I came to see how they were getting on I heard her great niece addressing my aunt kindly but firmly, “Are you sure you want to keep the Meister Eckhart? Does it spark joy?” My aunt was unsure. I think Meister Eckhart was saved in the end but a vast number of other books (including a substantial collection of theological books which it turned out did not spark joy) and random items were not deemed worthy of keeping. The pair were delighted with themselves: four black bags of stuff for giving away and three full of rubbish. Then, my brother put his foot down and said that the rubbish bags couldn’t go in the bin as it was too full and would have to go after the next collection (my parents and my aunt live next door to each other and there is a complex bin sharing treaty in operation between the two households). They are stored temporarily in my aunt’s front room but I fear they may never leave. In my heart of hearts, I knew that nobody was ever going to bring the four bags for giving away to the charity shop so I hauled them into the car and brought them back to Dublin to give away. They’re gone now, I hope some of the Dublin locals enjoy reading about theology. I drew the line at bringing the bags of rubbish back to Dublin but even now, I am feeling mild regret as there is a real danger that they will never make it to the bin at all.

As though her work in her great aunt’s house was insufficient to meet her needs, herself begged to be allowed to make a pilgrimage to my parents’ attic. I permitted this, but only on the condition that she did not try to tidy it. You will be delighted to hear that “Star Trek Annual 1976” is even now upstairs in Dublin. She also found some material in a big trunk. She loves to sew and make costumes and was graciously permitted to help herself. When it came time to go back to Dublin, she and her brothers kindly packed the car for me. Once we were beyond Mitchelstown, she said, “Is it too late to go back to Cork?” “Yes,” I said. “Good,” she said, “because I brought more material than you might like.” When we unpacked the car, there were bolts and bolts of material. That night, when she dressed up for Halloween, I noted that the lace covering from my first communion dress, was getting another outing for the first time in 40 years.

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Halloween passed off peacefully enough. The children went out on their own for the first time. They liked it. More particularly as they came home laden down with sweets. Not a solitary monkey nut this year.

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In other Halloween news, the cat was puzzled, and not entirely pleased by the Halloween decorations:

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