Kind Uncle: Here is an alphabet puzzle, my little nephew.
Me: Gosh that looks quite hard.
Mr. Waffle: Did you buy it in Barcelona?
Kind Uncle: Yes, why?
Mr. Waffle: I think the alphabet is in Catalan.
A challenge
Daniel
The Economy
The Princess came down to watch the news last night. “Oh no, not more about the money we all owe, they’ve said it already, we know it.” How true.
Meanwhile, Daniel announced to me that “Parnell Square is where we march”. It is indeed. This will be a useful piece of information for you, should you wish to avoid traffic restrictions when in Dublin.
Dressing up
Me (to the boys): This is your sister’s school and you two will be starting there in a while.
Daniel: Will we wear a uniform?
Me: Yes, you will.
Daniel: Like our sister’s uniform?
Me: Yes indeed.
Michael: Hurrah, I will wear a skirt!
When we got home, I changed into jeans, runners and a fleece, and trotted out to cut the grass. “You look cool”, said my daughter. I fear that prolonged exposure to Irish fashions has not improved anyone’s dress sense. And we were already coming from a low base. Sigh.
Finally, I have got all my hair cut off. A nice Lithuanian lady gave Daniel and me the same style. It cost us 28 euros in total. Pleasingly economical. I am quite happy but the complete absence of comment other than from my children and that, frankly negative, is a little disturbing. Kissing Michael goodnight he said, “I don’t want you to kiss me, you look like a boy, you’re not like my Mummy”. When I went to collect them from Montessori school, the teacher took one look at me and said, “Ah, that is why the boys came into school and told me that their Mummy is a boy, now.” Sigh.
Empathy
Daniel has recently developed a slight rash on his arms coinciding with a spell of renewed cold weather and Michael’s continuing difficulty with his colouring assignments.
Me (rubbing on cream): Are you worried about something sweetheart?
Daniel: Yes.
Michael has gone up the stairs to the bedroom where he is swigging down his bottle (no comments please, no one is more aware than I am that the boys will be 4 and starting school in September) and getting into his pyjamas. I decide, in Michael’s absence, to see whether Michael’s misery is affecting Daniel.
Me: Are you worried about Michael?
Daniel: Yes.
My poor child, anguished about his brother and his brother’s misery.
Me: Why are you worried about Michael?
Daniel (loudly): I’m worried he will take my bottle.
Chinese whispers
Me: What do you want for breakfast?
Daniel: I want some lego.
Me: You can’t eat lego.
Daniel: I want lego you can eat.
Me: There isn’t lego you can eat.
Daniel (fretfully): Yes, there is.
Me (fretfully back): No, there isn’t.
Daniel (weepily): I want lego.
Me (crankily putting it on the table): There, are you happy now?
Daniel (crying): No. I want white round lego with butter.
Me (mystified) to Princess: Have you any idea what he wants?
Her: Yes, he would like a bagel.
Learning
It appears that Michael is not colouring properly. He does not make an effort. His teacher is cross. She told us this and we nodded seriously. She was not deceived. “I know” she said, “that you think it is only colouring, but it is important for concentration, how will he manage in September when there are 27 other children clamouring for the teacher’s attention?” We are planning to start the boys at big school in the autumn where the pupil teacher ratio will go from 6:1 – Montessori to something far less favourable.
Nevertheless, I am finding it hard to care. If his St. Patrick’s Day shamrocks are less coloured in than Daniel’s, well then so be it. With this kind of attitude at home is it any wonder that his colouring reports continue to be poor.
Meanwhile, I discover to my surprise that the boys both recognise numbers 1 – 10 (Daniel somewhat more readily than Michael) and are starting to point to letters and pronounce them phonetically. Clearly, they are learning something at school despite the colouring difficulties Michael encounters. I feel a bit guilty that I have only noticed these talents by the by and have done practically nothing to foster them. Daniel is desperate to start reading and sits running his chubby fingers under the words in books while saying them very slowly (he knows them off by heart). I think that he is trying to unlock the mysteries of his sister’s new reading trick. He sees her spelling them out to herself and thinks that, somehow, if he says the word slowly and runs his finger under it, it will work for him too. Who knows, maybe he’s right.
