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Back on the chain gang

29 November, 2004
Posted in: Princess, Work

7.00 Alarm clock goes off

7.10 Husband gets into shower

7.30 Husband has breakfast

7.50 Husband asks whether I had better get up

7.55 Drag myself from bed and stand in shower while husband feeds and dresses toddler

8.24 Leave house in car.

8.45 Reach end of road.

9.00 Deposit precious infant in creche. Infant is, frankly, reluctant.

9.30 Arrive in office. Work a bit. Mostly drink tea. Quiet and kind of pleasant.

5.00 Leave office – look it was my first day and it was quiet and dammit, I’m the boss,I can leave when I like – and drive to creche (husband has, alas, gone on a work trip)

5.30 Arrive at creche. Pick up unhappy infant. It appears that she has not wished to eat the fruit which was offered for her afternoon snack and she is distinctly peckish. Creche staff assure me that she has been happy as a sandboy (or girl, I suppose) all afternoon and danced away to music with them. Be that as it may, she is not happy now.

5.35 Depart creche with unhappy baby and discover to my horror that the stash of crackers I keep in the car for just such emergencies as this is sadly depleted. Hand over last cracker.

5.55 Reach the end of the road on which the creche is situated.

6.10 Reach home.

Conversation on the journey has gone as follows:

Princess: Bikkit, bikkit, bikkit!

Me: I’m afraid that you’ve had the last one, sweetheart.

Princees: Bokkle, bokkle, bokkle!

Me: I haven’t got a bottle with me, my angel.

Princess: Giga, giga, GIGA!

Me: Um, I haven’t any Liga either, I’m afraid.

Repeat to fade.

6.11 Give the Princess a Liga.

6.12 Stick dinner in the oven.

6.13 Change infant.

6.20 Lay table, peer at dinner to see whether reheated yet, placate baby with crackers.

6.40 Eat dinner. Persuade infant to try some reheated lasagne

7.00 Clear table and wipe remains of lasagne from wooden floor. Regret that landlord chose not to revarnish the floor before we moved in.

7.15 Look at photo album with infant (she likes that, she gets to see her grandparents).

7.25 Bath.

7.45 Bed.

I’m a shadow of my former self, I can tell you.

Comments
dmts

on 29 November 2004 at 22:11

You are wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. 1 Sweetie(s) given

stroppycow

on 29 November 2004 at 22:20

What’s a Liga?
It doesn’t get any better as they get older. Feeds and dresses toddler is replaced with nag child to get showered and dressed, ensure child has all needed for school before stepping out the door. In the evening creche is replaced with afterschool club, you need to add placate child to get homework done, rush to swimming/ trampoline/ choir etc. Nag child to get teeth brushed and jammas on etc. You get the jist.

demolitionlover

on 29 November 2004 at 22:20

true heather

Friar Tuck

on 30 November 2004 at 00:23

Re: reaching end of road. Wonderful use of figurative language.
Despair not. It will get better… unless it doesn’t.

Mikeachim

on 30 November 2004 at 01:49

Enormous round of applause. Squeezing the day dry (I wish I was as productive)…..

Locotes

on 30 November 2004 at 12:40

Well it sounds like your day only got busy around half 5, which isn’t too bad. Bit confused about the ‘I’m the boss’ bit – is that just what you’re telling yourself? Or have I somehow missed you starting up a company….how exciting.ps – by God, I used to love Liga.

pub exec

on 30 November 2004 at 13:50

Well done waffle in law. Hope it gets easier …

belgianwaffle

on 01 December 2004 at 22:01

Bobble, Heather, Demlov, Mike you are very kind. And HJB, a sweetie too, I’m overwhelmed. Stroppy cow, you’re scaring me – and what do you mean what’s a Liga? It’s a biscuit, a staple of childhood for generations (well I had them when I was little anyway and so did Locotes, I see). FT, hah. You know you’re relying on me to rescue you from your LJS mess. No Loc, I haven’t started my own company, it’s just that I run the local office and my bosses are far, far away.
Pub exec, yeah, getting better now that your brother is back from his travels.

Fancy food

28 November, 2004
Posted in: Princess

When we mention things the Princess likes, she tends to demand them, e.g.

Me to Mr. W: Those biscuits we bought for Christmas last year were very nice.

Princess (ad nauseum): Bikkit? Bikkit? Bikkit! Bikkit!

So we spell exciting things, for example “have we got a b-o-t-t-l-e of wine for tonight?”

But she seems to have twigged that spelling involves things she likes so hence this evening as we persuaded her that she should try eating the slop we were offering:

“We have some s-a-l-m-o-n in the fridge, will we give it to her, if we’re desperate?”

Princess (cutting across her father): Yes, yes, yes.

Yes, my child likes smoked salmon.  Yeah, and if you think that’s odd, you should see her with venison.  When we were in Cork we had venison for dinner the night before we left and she really liked it.  There’s a child with notions.  So, anyway, I brought some cold venison on the plane for her lunch but, you know, I didn’t fancy saying on the plane “Would you like some venison, dear?” – yes, I have a sense of shame, why do you ask? – so I said “would you like some cold beef?”   She peered at the meat.  She took it in her chubby paw.  She chewed it. She spat it out and stuck it back in her mouth and then once she had swallowed said firmly and clearly “benison”.

Comments
demolitionlover

on 28 November 2004 at 22:38

smoked salmon is nice

Bobble

on 28 November 2004 at 22:49
(
Comment Modified) Mashed apple just doesn’t cut it in your house I guess?

jackdalton

on 29 November 2004 at 00:46
(
Comment Modified) Only as a garnish to pork steak probably… 😉

Locotes

on 29 November 2004 at 09:24

Never been too partial to the benison myself – give me the pork products any day. I get the sense herself could be a high-maintenance girlfriend in later life…
😉

NorahSplog

on 29 November 2004 at 11:50

She has such style! 1
Sweetie(s) given

belgianwaffle

on 29 November 2004 at 21:30

Hmm, I dunno Jojo, she is also very fond of olives. Is my baby the reincarnation of some deceased dedicated posh partyer?
Well, yes, demolition lover, smoked salmon is nice, but for a toddler? Bobble and JD, clearly not and frankly, Bobble as someone who is part Italian, it ill behoves you to frown at fancy eating. Locotes, must point out that among her less exalted tastes are “sausages!” and “bacon, bacon, bacon!” Norah, a sweetie, you are a kind and generous soul.

Bobble

on 29 November 2004 at 23:29

See see, I try and pretend to be British and fit in and, and… No, give them watered down wine – always worked in our house.

poggle

on 01 December 2004 at 14:54

We knew that, waffle – why else would she be called Princess?

belgianwaffle

on 01 December 2004 at 22:05

Bobble, I like that. Pog, you are right, as always..

Travels

28 November, 2004
Posted in: Family

We arrived and as we flew in to Cork airport, I said to my daughter, look that’s Cork. “Nana!” she said. “Yes” I confirmed.

We landed and waited for our luggage. “Nana?” she asked in irrate tones.  “In a minute” I said.

We came out and there she was, Nana, conversation as follows:

Nana: Hello my darling.

Me: Hello Mum.

Nana (Ignoring me and my intervention) : How’s my little girl?

Princess (in tones of febrile excitement): Nana, Nana, Nana!!

Me: Hmmph.

Nana: Oh hello dear. Your father has parked outside and we have to ring him on your mobile to find where he is.

Me: What? But I have no credit on my Irish mobile.

Nana: Oh well, I’ll just walk up and down the carpark until I find him, you go and top up your phone (departs leaving me muttering darkly).

Princess (to her grandmother’s retreating form in most distressed tones): Nana, Nana, NANA, NANA.

Go to airport shop. No top up cards.

Princess screams “NANA, NANA, NANA!”

Go to card vending machine – it is out of order.

Princess screams “NANA, NANA, NANA!”

Go to another machine, it refuses to take my money.

Princess screams “NANA, NANA, NANA!”

Go to payphone. It will not take coins in any of the denominations in my purse.

Princess screams “NANA, NANA, NANA!”

At that moment my mother returned.

Princess is ecstatic “Nana” she says approvingly. “Good.”

“I’ve found your father but I’m going to the bathroom before we leave. He’s up there” says my mother gesturing vaguely.

The Princess bursts into tears and she and I venture out into the car park with her wailing “NANA, NANA, NANA!”

We find my father. “Look,” I say “your grandfather”.

She looks at him dubiously and then says “Nana? Nana? NANA!”

“Hello dear” says my father nervously “where’s your mother?”.

“Well that’s what we all want to know” says the Princess (or words to that effect).

Anyway after that initial excitement, we all went home and the Princess continued her bonding with my mother. We had a relatively quiet week but very pleasant. The Princess who can be a picky eater at home took everything her grandmother laid in front of her with gusto. Alas, she slept poorly, but I suppose you can’t have everything.  Didn’t see anyone other than my parents, my aunt and the heart surgeon. The heart surgeon is pregnant and her baby is due in March. Circumstances have determined that within two weeks of the birth of her first child she will have to travel to the US for job interviews.  A terrifying prospect but one which she views with relative equanimity. She uttered the immortal words “how hard can it be?”  Oh how we laughed.

And that’s it really.  Quiet but pleasant.

Start my new job on Monday. Had an away day on Friday which was reasonably pleasant but getting my feet under the desk on Monday will be…interesting.

Comments
jackdalton

on 28 November 2004 at 17:05

A job!!! Despite the hair-do?
🙂

Bobble

on 28 November 2004 at 17:26

Good luck Waffly, you won’t need it. 1
Sweetie(s) given

Locotes

on 28 November 2004 at 19:12

I’m starting to miss Nana myself after all that. So you didn’t get out and about much? Ah well, a break in the homeland is rejuvenating enough. Despite no pleas for free papers. Again. One of these days you’ll be desperate to find out cinema times or what’s new on the Kinsale Road Flyover – and I’ll laugh…Ahem. But good luck with the job!

dmts

on 28 November 2004 at 22:05

Great to see you back, Waffle. Lots of luck for tomorrow – you’ll be brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

belgianwaffle

on 28 November 2004 at 22:23

MDW: Yes, this is a VERY valuable lesson in how not to alienate your daughter…though it does seem to lead to enormous affection from grandchild, so swings and roundabouts, I suppose.
JD, Bobble, HJB, Loc: thanks for all the finger crossing (and also the sweetie B)- I think I will feel better once tomorrow is over…
Loc, but I DID want the Examiner. Had I known that all I had to do for a free copy was contact you, I wouldn’t have had to shell out vast sums.

Locotes

on 29 November 2004 at 08:56

Well there you go – you’ll know in future. A bit worried about this ‘vast sums’ business – how many bundles are you buying?! Or are you getting your hands on those black market hush hush copies that tell the future news before it happens…very handy for the bookie…

belgianwaffle

on 01 December 2004 at 22:04

Well, loads of bundles obviously, I mean, you know as an antidote to the Irish Times (which had half a page on a Dun Laoghaire sculpture on Saturday incl large photo of same – national paper pah!).

Part the Twelfth

19 November, 2004
Posted in: The tale of Lazy Jack Silver

The hooded figure slid past Bobble’Â’s recumbent form and oozed down the stairs. Norah had seen nothing, as she was watching Lazy Jack Silver. He stirred in his sleep and muttered some more. Norah stood watching him, unaware of the sinister figure looming behind her. A razor-sharp blade glittered in the candle-light.

Suddenly Lazy Jack Silver sat bolt upright, his eyes fixed on the apparition. Norah started, as the blade slashed through empty air where she had been a split-second before. She stared in horror – a Budget Cutter ! The scourge of healthcare everywhere ! She grabbed a chair and threw it at the figure, but the chair went straight through it as if through a cloud. The Budget Cutter merely smiled ghoulishly as it waved its blade. Norah and Lazy Jack Silver both backed away from it, but they were being pushed into a corner and no escape seemed possible.

Suddenly a voice was heard “Boccle ? Doggy ?” The Princess stood at the top of the stairs, holding her mother’s hand. The Budget Cutter froze, and dropped its knife. “Boccle?” The Budget Cutter shuddered and began to disintegrate into cloudy wisps. Within a few seconds all that was left was the knife and a nasty smell of mould.

“Yes, dear, IÂ’’ll get you a bottle” said Waffle. “Merci” said Princess.

Comments
Friar Tuck

on 21 November 2004 at 21:44

*voice from nowhere*
Yes, I’d agree with heather if I had not disintegrated.

dmts

on 21 November 2004 at 22:59

It’s okay Friar Tuck, we’ll get on to it. Norah the scientist may very well have an antidote to this – we need to get you some girl action before you disintegrate.

Friar Tuck

on 22 November 2004 at 04:52

I hope the Pope doesn’t read this blog!
* as an angry mob with torches and pitchforks begin building a bonfire in front of my house *

dmts

on 22 November 2004 at 09:00

Why is he going to want some girl action too? Or are you worried that you may not become Cardinal Tuck?

jackdalton

on 22 November 2004 at 12:17

Seems to me like a sure-fire way of becoming at least a bishop.. if the Casey scenario plays true

poggle

on 22 November 2004 at 12:48

Hang on a minute. Are we sure that the shrouded figure was Friar Tuck? Since when was he a Budget Cutter (v clever, by the way, M’sieur Waffle)? Is this figure not an ‘extra’? And I am unsurprised by The Princess’s magical powers ….

Friar Tuck

on 27 November 2004 at 02:31

I’m in charge of cleaning his keyboard. I hate it when he drools.

belgianwaffle

on 03 December 2004 at 22:25

You will see that Friar Tuck has been restored to you all. Rejoice. Consider it an early Christmas present.

Blogsitting

18 November, 2004
Posted in: Mr. Waffle

Oh hello, I didn’Â’t see you there. I just came in to check the curtains were drawn in the blog – itÂ’s pretty chilly out there and I didnÂ’t want the place to get cold.

Sorry ? No, stay as long as you like – IÂ’ll just potter around for a minute, then IÂ’’ll leave you in peace. Yes, they arrived safely – the Princess is most pleased with her loyal subjects in Cork. Apparently she got to go on a Bob the Builder car outside the supermarket… no, one of the ones for kids where you put a coin in.

The weather ? Bucketing, apparently – same as Brussels. But they’Â’re having a good time, as far as I can tell. Her grandparents are delighted to see her and the Princess is eating vast amounts.

Me ? Oh, IÂ’’m fine. Yes, it might seem as if I had a week of freedom – but it’Â’s still a bit grim when you come back to an empty flat. Well, since you ask I did go out to the pub last night but it was still a school night so I was home by 10.30Â… Anyway, IÂ’’ll let you get on with it.

Sorry ? Well, I might look in tomorrow but I donÂ’t know if it would be a good idea to change too much.

What do you mean by “just a bit ?”

I see. – I donÂ’t know if that would be a good idea …Well, yes, obviously I could keep things ticking over, but itÂ’s her blog and I’Â’d feel nervous…update Lazy Jack Silver ? Who sent you ? What do you want from me ? Get out !

Comments
Friar Tuckon 19 November 2004 at 05:16

A post! My life has meaning again!

Mrs. Waffleon 19 November 2004 at 11:01

Don’t think that I’m not watching you. My spies are everywhere. Pick up that dirty glass.

poggleon 19 November 2004 at 12:06

And be careful where you put your feet – there are priceless drafts of Booker-prize-winning novels all over the place, you know!

NorahSplogon 19 November 2004 at 12:12

Hmmm… Mrs Waffle doesn’t do it like that.

Friar Tuckon 19 November 2004 at 17:41
Hey, they have computers and the Internet in Cork! Who knew? Do the computers there run on electricity, or are they still the horse-drawn variety?
belgianwaffle
on 19 November 2004 at 20:50This may be very bad for our marriage, but I couldn’t help it. Fans of Lazy Jack Silver will find a new update. Fans of the Princess will find a new photo. I may have to find a new flat …
Mr Waffle
belgianwaffleon 28 November 2004 at 15:07

Mr. Waffle has just been let back in. It was raining out there. I am not entirely heartless.

Comments jackdalton on 16 November 2004 at 15:25So does this mean he finds out about you and the “hot”, young, Cork-lovin’ Locotes? 🙂 Friar Tuck on 16 November 2004 at 16:52You can count on us to behave ourselves! *tee hee* Locoteson 16 November 2004 at 16:53What do you mean find out about me? I’m here in the public domain at all times – no sneaking about under cover of darkness here. No sir. And I’m not sure I appreciate the use of quotes around ‘hot’ either – anyone would think you don’t quite believe that jack…Anyway waffle, when do you leave? Or have you left? In which case I’m talking to myself….ahem… *sidles away* Beth(Homepage)on 16 November 2004 at 18:03 You take more vacation than anyone I know – although being American that isn’t saying much. *jealous* poggleon 17 November 2004 at 14:10Is that wise, waffle? I mean, is he tidy? Or is he likely to laze about drinking all your booze and leaving dirty glasses and plates all over the place? belgianwaffleon 28 November 2004 at 15:06I’m back. I fear poor LJS suffered in my absence but otherwise all seems well.. jackdaltonon 28 November 2004 at 17:02See… you weren’t missed at all 😛 belgianwaffleon 01 December 2004 at 22:05JD, hmm.

Linnaean classification

13 November, 2004
Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess

Princess is taken from the bath. “Fish, fish” she says to me. “Where’s that plastic fish?” I ask her father. “Don’t know”. “Poisson, poisson” she says to him in increasingly unhappy tones. “Look” I say “have this”.� It’s a little container. “It’s not a fish” says Mr. Waffle. “No but it has a picture of a fish on the bottom” I say. “No, it hasn’t” he says. I point to the picture of a whale on the bottom. “Yes, I know” he says “but that isn’t a fish, it’s a cetacean”. “A what?” I say. Princess�claws for the container. “You know, a mammal. Whales are mammals, like dolphins”. Princess looks at him with an arrested look and he says to her “une baleine est un grand mammifère”. “Maifer” she says to me solemnly, pointing at the whale.

Comments
lauren35on 15 November 2004 at 20:26

Just to confuse her even more, tell her that “papa est aussi un grand mammif?re” …

poggleon 16 November 2004 at 12:28

You got me giggling, again, waffle. I love the princess.

belgianwaffleon 16 November 2004 at 14:33

Mike, I like that approach a lot. Lauren, your suggestion also has a lot going for it. Pog, am sure your laughter is sympathetic.

Bobbleon 16 November 2004 at 14:49

Has she started doing your cryptic crosswords yet?

poggleon 16 November 2004 at 15:25

Of course it is, waffle. Sympathetic and awestruck.

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