Poor old Mr. Waffle went for lunch with a Danish colleague yesterday
who told him that the car we bought is prone to exploding when
parked. A hunt on google reveals that this is apparently
true. But only in Nordic countries (something to do with their
excellent social model, or possibly the climate) and only for older
models. But he is now officially worried about the vehicle we
have selected to transport our precious progeny. In an effort to
ensure that he continued in this happy frame of mind, another colleague
whose wife is also pregnant reminded him that Sunday is car free
day. This colleague has got a special permit to drive on Sunday,
in case his wife needs to go to the hospital. To get the
permit, you need to get a note from your doctor stating that you
are pregnant and take it to the commune. I have refused to do
this. I think that, if we are stopped by the police on the way to
the hospital, I can persuade them I am pregnant. Or we can get a
taxi. But my spouse worries.
on 16 September 2005 at 12:48
Sweetie(s) given
on 16 September 2005 at 14:42
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on 16 September 2005 at 15:06
Well you might think so pog but Jack shows an uncanny knowledge of Belgian policing.
Sweetie(s) given
on 19 September 2005 at 11:02
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on 21 September 2005 at 13:09
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car
which will hold three car seats. On the minus side we will never
be able to park on the street again due to its enormous dimensions.
This morning I spent three quarters of an hour curled up on the bed
thinking this is sore. Are these contractions? You’d think
I’d know after last time but, really, you do forget everything.
Anyway, last time I was induced and the gap between my first
contraction and the arrival of the epidural was mercifully short.
I struggled to the phone to ring Mr. Waffle but he was off at a
meeting. I sent him an alarming email. And now, I feel
absolutely fine. So there’s a completely unnecessary panic.
Or perhaps not. Stay tuned for further updates.
on 14 September 2005 at 11:40
Sweetie(s) given
on 14 September 2005 at 13:45
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on 14 September 2005 at 13:50
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on 14 September 2005 at 14:14
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on 14 September 2005 at 14:36
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on 14 September 2005 at 16:40
😉
Sweetie(s) given
Friar Tuck
on 14 September 2005 at 16:41
Then again, it is easy to be excited when its not your body parts that are being stretched to unnatural dimensions.
Prayers and best wishes.
on 14 September 2005 at 23:06
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 September 2005 at 00:21
🙂
Good luck. A sinner’s prayer is gone your way.
Sweetie(s) given
Friar Tuck
on 15 September 2005 at 04:42
on 15 September 2005 at 09:12
xxxxxxxxxxx
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 September 2005 at 10:57
Cookie, I have dutifully noted your comments and matters will be rectified.
Locotes, you appear to be right as usual.
FT, keep praying. And yes I know, but Americans have cheap petrol. Do you know it’s 1 euro 40 a litre here?
JD, sinner’s prayers are particularly valuable, keep at it. And isn’t it great that we won, though no surprise etc.
SJ, yes 3 car seats is terrifying, frankly.
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Matters started badly. The Princess decided against a long nap
and we found her standing by her bedroom door with doggy in hand and
the curtains drawn saying “Enough nap”. Alas. As we had
both been napping we were not of the same view.
We drove to this kiddie farm. The traffic was brutal. Many
of the tunnels which make Bxls an excellent place to be a motorist
(though a rotten one to be a pedestrian) were closed. At one
stage, herself asked “Are we going to France?” and I thought, well,
actually, we probably could have driven to France in the time it has
taken us to reach this Brussels suburb. And Mr. Waffle had
put his back out, and he was doing directions and the mobile which I
had failed to recharge was making pathetic “I’m dying here” noises from
the depths of my handbag: all of which tended to make Mr. Waffle
tetchy. And I begged the Princess to be silent while her father
consulted the map but she was having none of it. “I want to TALK”
she wailed. This did not improve anyone’s mood.
Hours later we arrived at the kiddie farm. There was an ice cream
van outside and, in probably the day’s only sensible move, we instantly
yielded to the Princess’s screams for ice cream. We trekked down
the hill to the farm. Well I waddled, Mr. Waffle walked hunched
to one side and the Princess trekked. It was a bit limited.
A lot of the excitements that would have been available had we arrived
somewhat earlier were over. The Princess was terrified of all the
animals and demanded to be carried. I couldn’t carry her.
Mr. Waffle was able to put her on his shoulder and lurch hump back of
Notre Dame like around the various attractions. I think it would
be fair to say that nobody had a good time.
We left about half an hour after our arrival. On the way home,
the Princess announced “I want to do a wee” and for the first
time ever, proceeded to wee in her car seat. After we got her to
bed, Mr. Waffle and I spent the remainder of the evening trying to get
the wretched cover off the car seat with a view to chucking it in the
washing machine. Sigh. We’re still recovering.
on 12 September 2005 at 11:31
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on 12 September 2005 at 12:00
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on 12 September 2005 at 15:16
Much sympathy xxxxx
Sweetie(s) given
on 13 September 2005 at 19:07
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on 13 September 2005 at 21:32
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on 14 September 2005 at 10:19
Thanks Lilo and a sweetie to boot.
Pog, good summary.
Minks, 2 sweeties and excellent advice, you are the picture of goodness.
HJB – I will discuss with him.
JD – Eh?
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2. I will stop blogging and you will think that I have delivered twins
but, in fact, our computer will have collapsed. It keeps turning
itself off and sulking. Do you think that this is a good sign?
3. My stomach.
on 12 September 2005 at 10:00
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on 12 September 2005 at 11:57
You’re talking about the well-documented Pre-Sprogian era, followed by the Inter-Familian. I assume.
Sweetie(s) given
on 14 September 2005 at 10:14
UC, you are wise beyond your years..
Pog, but I never thought it would happen to me.
Sweetie(s) given
on 14 September 2005 at 13:57
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on 15 September 2005 at 10:51
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on 16 September 2005 at 10:24
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Pregnancy Woes
With apologies to Dorothy Parker and her estate.
Three be the things I am wiser to know:
Antenatal classes, proper diet and the myth of a pregnancy glow
Four be the things I’d been better without:
Swollen ankles, vomiting, heartburn and doubt.
Three be the things I shall never attain:
Stylish clothes, a tiny bump and insufficient pain.
Three be the things I shall have till I deliver:
Anaemia, diabetes and worries about problems upriver.
Yes, I know it doesn’t scan. Poetry writing is harder than you might imagine.
And may I use this opportunity to announce that my sister-in-law has joined the ranks of the pregnant. Fantastic, the Princess will have a cousin in February. Yes, I’m sure that they think of it in those terms also; why do you ask? Anyhow, much rejoicing and excitement
on 09 September 2005 at 13:11
Thank you. You are most kind, I will save the sweeties for when I can eat them again..
on 09 September 2005 at 21:25
That’s very good. Are you not glowing though? I’ve been aglow for six months now and just assumed that, with twins, one would be doubly incandescent.
Friar Tuck
on 12 September 2005 at 02:58
At least your pome rimes. I don’t take to them pomes what don’t rime.
And you’re wrong about it not scanning. I scanned it this evening, and it worked perfectly.
on 12 September 2005 at 09:23
Um, no KE, I am pale and wan. The sedge has withered from the lake and no birds sing (this poetry stuff gets really addictive).
You are v. generous JD.
FT, you’ve been away. Welcome back.
Sorrowful
Her: I was sad Mummy. I cried.
Me: Oh dear sweetie, why were you sad?
Her: I wanted you and you wasn’t there.
Me: Oh sweetheart, I’m very sorry.
Her: Veronique (woman at creche) gave me a hug but I was still sad and I wanted you.
I was gutted.
Yesterday on the telephone to her grandma:
Her: I was sad Grandma. I cried at the creche.
Grandma: Oh dear, why were you sad?
Her: I wanted you and you was in Dublin.
Grandma: Oh dear
Her (in tones of deep reproach): I was SAD and you wasn’t there.
Me: Hang on a minute here…
on 07 September 2005 at 10:41
She’s getting better and better at this – reminds me of the ‘I want Daddy/Mummy’ bedtime scenario a while back.
Hee hee.
on 07 September 2005 at 13:16
Clever girl! She’ll go far.
Re: the imminent arrivals – hope you are bearing up Ok mum
Thanks Sus, Pog, I think.
Bit fed up Jojo, but, you know, fine, thanks.
