In other news, the Princess skipped off early to school today for gym (or pyschomotricité as it is known in the language of diplomacy and romance, you might note that it may not be spelt that way). She has no idea what it is, but she is all excited, I hope that she is not in for a bitter disappointment.

Peggy
(Homepage)
on 26 January 2006 at 09:49
Bet the plumber was hoping you’d still be in bed… breastfeeding one or two babies.
Ok, I’m out of here.

Friar Tuck
on 26 January 2006 at 16:23
Maybe you could give the plumber one of yours as payment. After all, you could always make another. A win-win situation if there ever was one.

kristin
(Homepage)
on 26 January 2006 at 19:37
but tell us about the new fridge! is it nice? and pyschomotricite indeed. good lord. quite a step up from Circle Time.

belgianwaffle
on 27 January 2006 at 09:12

Hello CACOchyme, encore un Belge, the excitement. In fact, I was very pleased with the plumber and frankly half an hour late isn’t really very late but he did cost me, sharp intake of breath, 142 euros.
Peggy, hmmm, you go and stand with pog in the coin colere.
FT, would have been insufficient to defray substantial costs.
Oh yes, Kristin, no circle time for us, humph. Fridge is fab and much bigger than last one. Mr. W. says it’s just a fridge. Pah.

Madam’s teacher told me that she (the Princess) was a genius and miles
ahead of the other children (see, proof that hothousing works) and that
really she should go to the next class up but she wasn’t quite mature
enough.� However, she suggested that our immature genius should
spend a morning a week in the next class up and I basked in her
reflected glory.

When we got out the snow had, alas, got heavier.� The Princess was
beside herself with delight and ran around sticking out her tongue to
catch snowflakes.� While normally I would be charmed by this
behaviour, I was anxious to get home quickly before Michael got
hypothermia (Daniel was safely wrapped in blankets and a rain sheet in
the buggy).� I harried her along with middling success.�
About half way home she said “Mummy, I want to do a wee”.� “Can
you wait until we get home?”� Really I don’t know why I bothered
to ask.� Of course not.� We crouched down between two cars,
exposing the imperial bottom to the snow and also wetting the hem of
the imperial trousers, but better than the alternative, I
suppose.� Unfortunately, while crouching, I crushed Michael’s legs
(you will recall that he was in the sling) and he did not like this and
proceeded to bellow in indignation all the rest of the way home.�
The Princess blithely� ignored his protests and dawdled along.

By the time we finally got into the building, Michael had worked
himself into a state of near apoplexy.�� I put saintly,
sleeping Daniel in the lift and turned to the Princess and asked her to
get in.� I could barely hear her reply above Michael’s indignant
roars but I gathered from her hunched shoulders and the fact that she
was still sitting on the stairs that it was in the negative. �
Apparently she wanted to walk up the stairs.� I pointed out that I
could neither carry both boys up the stairs nor abandon them in the
hall.� “I bet you can” she said sulkily.� A protracted
negotiation session followed, Michael bawling the while and eventually
she consented to get into the lift.

At lunch she tasted and then rejected the following foods:� smoked
salmon, chicken, foie gras (stocks replenished and I know it’s
sub-optimal for the under 3s but I was desperate).� She eventually
consented to have “a little pasta with olive oil, Mummy”� and has
finally just gone for her nap.� Daniel still sleeps and Michael is
attached to me as I type but mercifully looking somnolent.� I
think that I will have a restorative cup of tea.

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https://www.belgianwaffle.net/2006/01/518/

When we were down town, we saw a woman and her daughter begging. The Princess wanted to know why they were sitting on the pavement and I said that they were poor and begging for money. I explained that not everybody was as lucky as us with a nice house and plenty of food to eat and nice clothes and toys. The Princess was fascinated. On the tram on the way home, she kept pointing at people and saying, very distinctly (and accurately), ““I think he’Â’s poor Mummy”.” Then she said to me, ““Mummy, you know, there are a lot of poor people at my school”. I
see social death approaching.

Mind you, it’Â’s not like I’Â’ve made friends with a lot of the mothers and fathers. I keep smiling in a hopeful way but they keep ignoring me. Yesterday, this woman was collecting her daughter who is in the PrincessÂ’s class. She has twin boys! Who are four months old! What a coincidence, would you like to chat about all the things we and our daughters have in common? Apparently not. She cut me dead and continued talking to her friends. I was crushed and reduced to thinking bad things about her poor dental work. Also she made having twins and a toddler look very easy and we all know that it is extremely difficult and I am fantastic to be
coping so well. Humph.

Comments

geepeemum

on 25 January 2006 at 11:53
She was probably being rude because she looks at you and wonders how she could ever in her wildest dreams cope as well as you do; clearly you make her feel inferior! (As indeed you should, given that she is a very rude lady)
Sweetie(s) given

Peggy

(Homepage)

on 25 January 2006 at 12:53
I agree with Geepeemum. And she might also think that you are another one of those rich expats.
Most important is that the Princess makes friends in her school.

jackdalton

on 25 January 2006 at 12:54
Don’t be crushed, ‘waf. People who do that sort of thing eventuually get what’s due…. silly old billy old cow.
[Her. Not you.]
Sweetie(s) given

belgianwaffle

on 27 January 2006 at 09:06
Pog, am sure you are right. Oooh, I like that GPM. Peggy, rich expats are people too. Sniff. Still no friends though. I suppose it has only been a fortnight.
JD, am glad you clarified that. 0
Sweetie(s) given