Princess: Am I related to anyone famous?
Me: Well, your nana’s first cousin’s first cousin is a moderately famous television presenter (in Ireland).
Her: Never heard of him.
Me: And also, technically, he’s not actually related to us.
The telephone rings. It is the parents-in-law to tell us that Mr. Waffle’s sister has just secured a two book deal. Rejoice! The Princess will be related to someone famous.
Last night I voted in the General Election. Today we will watch the votes being counted. Is it going to make any difference who gets in? I’m not so sure.
I asked an English colleague to find out what the exact title of a conference was – she rang the organisers. “It’s called ‘Giant Up Thinking for the Future,” she told me. What a stupid name, I thought to myself wondering how to work it in to the presentation I was preparing. Another colleague looked over my text for me and said, “Is that definitely the name of the conference?” “I know, it’s stupid, let’s double check with E.” “Yes,” she confirmed. “Are you sure,” said my smart colleague, “that it’s not ‘Joined Up Thinking for the Future?” E and I did feel foolish. Ah the perils of the Irish accent for the non-native. I do love the crisp delivery which my English colleague has; imagine, she finishes all her words. When we have crank callers, we ask her to take the calls because they all respect her crisp, clipped tones.
Parent teacher meetings: Herself, v clever, but continues to coast along without making the slightest effort (this is all very well in primary school but I can see disaster looming in the long term). Michael, too early to tell whether clever or not, but does not apply himself, particularly to colouring (try to care but just cannot, am clearly a bad mother). Daniel, tries very hard and worries a great deal about what everyone will think of his efforts. Due to power of will alone he can now nearly, nearly read. I think I should rely on Daniel for my pension. None of them shows the slightest interest in Irish or desire to speak it despite encouragement from all quarters. Sigh.
Went to see Tutankhamun exhibition on Saturday at the request of the children who are learning about ancient Eygpt in school. We queued for an hour with our pre-purchased ticket but, as a fellow queuer pointed out, at least it wasn’t raining. It was a bit dull in the end but the children, amazingly, seemed to enjoy it. Probably because they were given headphones.
You often read about how incentives can have a perverse unintended effect. I think that I have an example. A couple of weeks ago we decided to pay 20c to each child who was up, breakfasted and dressed by 8.45 on school mornings. On the first morning, the Princess appeared in our bedroom fully dressed at 8.15. A couple of days later she turned up at 7.20. This morning she turned up fully dressed at my bedside at 5.05 am.
The head of my organisation is presenting at a seminar on how to promote your career in a recession. I have been asked to attend. Unfortunately, I cannot do so as it is mid-term and I will be at home minding the children.