belgianwaffle

Mr. Waffle’s quotes of the week


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

The meeting of the logistics committee was suspended for an ad hoc emergency session of the vomit committee.
On having to abandon our discussion on what was happening during the following week to deal with Daniel getting sick.

Sure, as long as it’s fair trade recycled non-bleach eco-cotton.
On being told by his eco-terrorist wife that she would like one of these.

I have to struggle against terrible prejudice.
On being told by the Princess’s teacher that for her majesty’s birthday, his wife should make a smallish cake for the class. He makes the cakes here.

Ah excellent, competency based child-rearing; this will stand her in good stead, if the current interview fad lasts – tell me, what did you do to achieve the result described.

On being told about an interesting article (via this entertaining blog) which says that we should be specific in the praise we give our children, e.g. not you played really well but that was a great pass you made in the second half that led to a goal.

All the fingers of one hand


Posted in: Princess

The Princess was 5 on Saturday. Let joy be unconfined. Other than among her brothers where a certain amount of jealousy was evident. She got many lovely presents and parcels from far flung places and, believe me, I know how much of a pain it is sending parcels. For the first time, she examined each present and played with it in turn before opening the next.

One of her presents was from me.  It was a dress from Uganda.  She loves it.  I love it.  The only problem is that it is freezing in Brussels and it is cold wearing her summer dress round the house.  But we don’t care.  Her father is a little concerned though.   She knows that a nice lady in Africa made it for her – we got to examine the stamps on the parcel and the shopping bag from a local supermarket.  Very thrilling.

You are doubtless distracted by this exotic African element in the birthday frenzy.  I bought the dress from Lizzie who was brought to my attention by the lovely Heather. Lizzie is starting a business with her housekeeper, Eva, who is also an excellent seamstress.  Lizzie is rich (well, you know, relatively) and looking after marketing abroad and Eva is poor and looking after working and getting the profits.
I sent off the Princess’s measurements and Lizzie organised the dress in no time (also producing a baby in the interim, speedy work).  When the parcel came, there was a handwritten note from Eva saying thanks for the order and God Bless.  People, is this better than buying from child labour in China?  You know, I’m half inclined to think that it is.

Total cost is 28stg – 25 for the dress and 3 for p&p (to Belgium anyway) and, frankly, with sterling in freefall at the moment – what’s not to like?  It’s an ill wind and all that.

The dress is lovely: proof here.  If we get a summer, she will wear it constantly.  I think we might buy another one.

It’s the first time that she has ever had something made for her.   She is charmed by the idea. When I was little, my mother used to make a lot of my clothes.  She once, memorably, said to my father as she looked at him coming out of mass with us in our beautiful wool coats with velvet collars, that he looked like the groom following the children from the big house.  He still brings it up occasionally.  I digress.

So here it is, big plug for Lizzie and her business (there’s that link again) which absolutely deserves to prosper.

Boys


Posted in: Middle Child, Twins, Youngest Child

Language

The boys are talking a lot. Daniel will say “Mama say ‘mountain’, Daddy say ‘montagne’. Michael is not as able at distinguishing languages. They both, however, mix up English and French and, as yet, show no real ability to unmix them. Although, funnily enough, in the creche which is entirely francophone, I am told that they only speak French. Over the past couple of weeks I have been collecting some linguistic infelicities:

Bicycle like Michael aussi;

Petit boy;

Moi, je comb the hair;

Moi, je geddit;

Belle, reading son book;

Mange avec spoon et fork;

C’est my!

Help you me;

Where un autre spoon?

[Describing those chasing the little gingerbread man] mechant fox, vache, horsey;

Moi, je puttai it;

un, deux, trois, jump;

moi, je go a la creche;

Moi, j’ai not stuck;

La baguette est broken;

Can I have ça ?

Moi, je goé à la supermarket;

Turnez OFF the light!

C’est MY de l’eau!

Poor Daniel is not enjoying the creche at the moment and, every time we sit into the car he says “pas creche” or, in English “creche, no thank you” (see, my efforts on please and thank you are not wasted). He also likes to point out everyone who is wearing glasses: “glasses, like me” he says.

Eating
Michael appears to be ambidextrous. He can take a spoon in each hand and eat perfectly competently from each in turn. He doesn’t often choose to do this as, in his quest to drive his father over the edge, he has, largely, abandoned eating solid food. We are told that, at the creche they go to eat separately and, when they return, each looks for the other to give a quick kiss before going about his business.

Odd little habits

They both totter when they first wake up. I love to see them walking jerkily but determinedly along the corridor to see what excitement is available at the breakfast table.

Daniel yells as loudly as his mother; that’s pretty loud.

They are both extremely keen that we should all sit in the same chairs when we sit at the table and woe betide any parent or child who sits in the wrong chair.

It’s harder than you might think to string this information together coherently. Did you notice?

Disney


Posted in: Princess

I am cross with Disney. Everywhere I go, I am pelted with Princess tat. I can’t walk more than a few steps in the supermarket without seeing Princess biscuits, dresses, t-shirts, underwear, games, books, toys, cakes. You name it, the Princesses have sponsored it.

I would like to buy the DVD of Snow White for my daughter. Yes, hand over cash for a Disney item but I cannot because all of their DVDs (except rubbish like Tinkerbell II the voyage to pixie land) are released on a strict rota about once every ten years for reasons I don’t quite understand but, by gum, it is annoying. I see that Snow White is not scheduled for release at the moment but I can ask them to email me when it is. Probably it will be available in 10 years time when the Princess will be 14. Is there something wrong with our money?

Stalking


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

So, you know Dooce (and, as I once memorably read somewhere, if you don’t, you’re my mother, so please call me, I want to talk to you). Well, I read Dooce and once I got a reply to an email from her and I kept it in my inbox for ages even though I normally delete email so fast that I find myself rooting around in deleted items for flight confirmations. I’ve never been a fan of anyone before (no interest in musicians, no particular interest in authors, only their output, little interest in the private lives of actors or other random famous people), but I am now. It is disconcerting.

Anyhow, a while ago, she said that she had seen herself as one of the five top bloggers in the Observer and she was pleased. I deduced that, what with living in Salt Lake City and that, she did not have a copy of the Observer in her sweaty little paw as I did. So, I decided to send her my copy of the Observer magazine in an attempt to win her heart. This is the kind of thing fans do.

Mr. Waffle and I went to the post office together (the family that posts together stays together or something like that). We had the following conversation.

Mr. Waffle: What’s this?

Me (embarrassed): It’s the Observer for Dooce [insert explanation re bloggers article] – she said she was interested.

Him : That’s nice, she emailed and asked if you’d post it and you’re sending it to her.

Me (failing to explain that I’ve only ever had the one email and, in fact, this is an entirely unsolicited and, perhaps, slightly creepy act of goodwill); Mmm.

Post office lady weighing the envelope: That will be 9 euros.

Me and him (yelping): 9 Euros!

Post office lady (apologetically): It’s a non-standard size.

Him: Could we sellotape over the edge?

Her: Well, you used to be able to do that but now they don’t accept that, it’s the European norm.

Me: Could we buy a standard size envelope here?

Her (apologetically) : No, the envelopes we have on sale are not standard European size.[I am not making this up].

My lovely husband: Feck it, we’ll send it anyway, go on, I’ll pay for it.

All I can say is, I hope that when I find out her address and we go to visit her in Salt Lake City, she will put us all up. Do you think that she’s scared?

News from Dublin


Posted in: Reading etc.

Ireland is awash with festivals, particularly in the Summer. There was a not particularly funny, spoof article about this in the Irish Times recently. I did like this one though:

“And last but not least, we can’t go without mentioning…

FESTIVAL OF CLICHE

(in the picturesque town that’s a gateway to a world just waiting to be discovered)

One of the country’s longest-running festivals celebrates its 25th anniversary with a mouthwatering line up. This festival has it all or, if it’s adventure you’re after, something for everyone. If it’s festival-going that you want, look no farther than this. Something for all the family. Why not get away from it all? Book early to avoid disappointment. You can’t take a horse to water but you can enjoy the Festival of Cliche.”

Meanwhile, in the births column:

PERFECTLY ORDINARY SURNAME – A beautiful baby boy born on March 4, 2008…. to delighted parents Kathryn and Barry. Dashel Zice treasured grandson for Sean and Mary etc. etc.

Dashel Zice?