Daniel having hurt his toe: Oh God, please take the pain away it’s so sore.
Me: Sweetheart, I’m not sure that’s how prayer works.
Daniel: Oh God, PLEASE take the pain away and give it to Michael.
Daniel
The Age of Reason
The Princess turned 7 today. This is the first year of my own life which I remember with some clarity and I wonder whether it will be the same for her.
I took a half day from work and picked her up from school as a surprise. We bought high school musical stationery (ah girls and their love of stationery), sandals to celebrate the change in the weather, tea and a bun which we enjoyed in silence: I read my book, she read her Beano. Then we browsed in a bookshop amicably together and went home. When we got home, we found that the boys and the childminder, M, had put up balloons and bunting and made her a cake. M had also bought her a present. Relatives called to wish her happy birthday. Shortly after M’s departure, my brother and sister arrived weighed down with presents. And we finally got the walkie talkie we gave her in the morning to work. She had such a great day. And that is not always the case. For example, she spent much of her birthday last year sulking in her room.
I seem to remember that 7 used to be regarded as the age at which children can give uncorroborated evidence in court and I can see why. The Princess is much better at seeing things and describing them in ways other people can understand. Smaller children can describe what they’ve seen but it’s as though they have no points of reference in common with you. They’re speaking another language. She has lots of points of reference in common with adults.
Mind you, sometimes, I think that we attribute more knowledge to her than she has. She really startled me the other day by saying that she had thought that you got change from every commercial transaction. When she paid the exact amount some months ago (counted out by me, she was buying a stuffed turtle), she was surprised not to get change. I remember the incident and I would never have thought that, at that stage, she didn’t really understand how money worked. She has a very extensive vocabulary (today she described herself as “tempted by several different cakes to the amusement of the people at the table next to us) which she does not always deploy in a manner which indicates understanding but she does like words.
She reads a lot and she hates to be told anything. I suppose, as an eldest child, she suffers from the full weight of her parents’ didactic tendencies (poor Daniel is always begging to be asked sums but we seem to have used up all our energy on herself). And sometimes, she does know surprising things. One day, in the wake of one of their unhappier interludes, I described herself and her father as being like diamond on diamond. “Why do I say that?” I asked her. “Because diamond is the hardest thing.” “That’s right and you know what’s interesting about diamond? It’s made from carbon atoms and do you know something else that’s made from carbon atoms?” I asked, about to trot out everyone’s favourite science fact. But she answered “Yes, coal.” “How do you know that?” I asked. “I read it in my science book.” That science book gets a lot of reading. I’m unclear how much she understands but she loves it.
It seems almost incredible that this whole loving, clever, beloved little person with views (oh how she has views), likes, dislikes, friends, conversation and a personality (lots of personality) was once a tiny baby. Although seeing her closing her eyes and sucking her thumb when I put her to bed tonight reminded me that she’s not so big as all that. Of course, it’s easy for me to check what has changed as, unbeknownst to herself (insert appropriate quantity of guilt here) my daughter has lived a life online. I hope that, on balance, someday, she will be pleased that so much of her youth is set out here. I think it might be interesting to read about what happened to her when she was little from a grown-up’s point of view and match it to her memory. She is part of the very first generation of blogged about children – it’s different from being in a book or being in a newspaper column. It’s more anonymous yet more detailed. I think that it is also less intimate than a book where more seems to leak out and, of course, it’s much, much more common and that’s probably a good thing. If the worst comes to the worst, all this can serve as a basis for her PhD research.
Happy birthday my favourite girl in the whole world.
Vignettes from the babysitting dungeon – in case you were wondering how my sister got on last weekend
A phone call.
Me (sitting on a chair by a pond in the Tuileries): Hi, how is everything going?
Sister (in Dublin minding offspring): Not great, I am making pancakes, the smoke alarm has gone off, the children are screaming and the cat is pooing in the kitchen. How are things in Paris?
A further phone call
Me (sipping tea in a Parisian cafe): Hi, how is everything going?
Sister (at the side of the road in the car): Not great. Your daughter won’t stop saying “church in a church” and it’s driving me and the boys insane so please will you talk to her.
Daughter: Church in a church, church in a church, church in a church..
Me: What does that mean?
Daughter: Church in a church, church in a church, church in a church…
Me: Unless you stop saying that straight away, there will be no Club Penguin for a week.
Daughter: Eek.
Sister: Thank you that seems to have worked.
Old Testament and New
Princess: What’s Passover?
Me: Why?
Her: It’s on my Lenten calendar.
Me: Oh right, well you know the plagues of Eygpt, locusts, frogs, rivers of blood and so on?
All three children: YES!
Me: Well the last thing was that God said he would kill all the first born children of the Egyptians, if they wouldn’t let the Israelites go.
Daniel (in shock): GOD WHO LOVES US?
Me: Well, yeees…
Daniel: Really?
Me: Weelll, you know, it’s um, anyway, moving on, the Jews ate a special meal and put a mark on the door so that the Angel of Death would pass over their houses, “pass over” get it? Hence Passover.
Daniel: Maybe God was joking and he wasn’t really going to kill them.
Me: Um, yes, maybe he was.
This charming man
Daniel knows “The Giant Jam Sandwich” off by heart. And, after spending all night getting youtube to upload the video, you too can see him and be entranced. Particularly, if you are related to him, I suppose.
In other Daniel news, recently he has taken to using the Irish form of Mummy which is MamaÃ. Since he invariably addresses me in the vocative, this becomes “A Mhamai” which is pronounced “awahmi” which is, frankly, rather odd for me, but charming all the same.
Very miscellaneous
Last weekend we split the children up between parents on Saturday and had the most successful Saturday on record. No more family outings for us. I took herself to a cafe in the morning while the boys were at the GAA with their father. I bought her a magazine and me the Irish Times and the pair of us sat and ate our tea and buns and read our newsprint. Really, very satisfactory. In the afternoon, she was at a party and I took the boys horse riding. While I am mildly concerned that the Princess is eschewing all forms of exercise, it is much less tiring not to have to drag her unwillingly to the GAA and watch her sulking on the sidelines.
The children and I planted two apple trees, a pear tree and two gooseberry bushes on Wednesday week. At first, I was bitter that the garden centre had forgotten to pack the 10 raspberry canes I ordered but once I had dug five holes in the ground for the other plants, I was relieved. My efforts were somewhat hampered by 3 eager fellow diggers with plastic spades and a bag full of compost. When asked to hold the tree upright, Michael let go, saying it was too tiring. All of the children inadvertently stood on the plants as they lay flat, roots on the ground waiting to be dug in. The cat joined in the excitement also and added her mite to proceedings by hopping into the holes as they were dug and having a look around while the children and I tried to insert the trees and plants. I am not entirely optimistic about this adventure.
A woman from Junior Achievement visited the Princess in primary school. The Princess is unimpressed by the stickers they are offering. She and her extraordinarily named friend have invented their own stickers for their own club and are developing an online forum for their work. She is convinced that this is far superior to anything that might be offered by a well-meaning NGO. Who knows, maybe she is right. Her friend is a boy and this has been a source of some unhappiness to her. Although her school is mixed, she and this boy appear to be the only people in her class who have made friends across the gender divide. The other children tease them and that old classic “K-I-S-S-I-N-G, A&B up a tree, first comes love then comes marriage etc.” has been getting an outing. Does 6 seem a little young to you for this kind of behaviour to manifest itself?
We had parent teacher meetings with the school last week. I raised the Princess’s difficulties with her friend with the teacher and she said that she thought that sometimes this class were like teenagers. She had seen something in the past but thought that on foot of teacher disapproval, it had stopped but she will keep an eye out for it again. Otherwise, they’re all fine although only one of my three children appears to have any degree of application. Still, they are all under 7, they have time, I trust.
