Nursery Blues

Maya’s blog goes out of date quicker than it takes for clothes to dry out here – and that’s pretty rapido, believe you me. I thought that Maya was starting to warm to her nursery but my silly, romantic notions of her wonderful hours spent under a mango tree were zapped towards the end of last week when she announced she didn’t want to go. I thought by the time she got there, she’d be fine but no, her expressions of discontent grew and grew until she was in a tearful state by the time we’d gone through the gate. All the teachers and the principal assured me she’d been absolutely fine each day, it was just the initial five minutes she wasn’t all that happy. And of course there were all the assurances that I’d be called if she didn’t cheer up.

I think we’ve been very lucky up till now, never having any problems with Maya at nursery in England and she was never tearful upon being left there. By the time her session that day was over she was calm but subdued and in hindsight, I don’t think it was the right thing to do, leaving her there when she was clearly not happy. I hoped it was just a blip but the following day, as we approached in the rickshaw poor Maya started howling uncontrollably, saying ‘I can’t want to go to nursery! I can’t wanna go!’ She literally would not even walk through the gate so that was that, there was no way I was going to push it again. I definitely don’t want to give her nursery phobia.

Again, this morning when I mentioned nursery a look of pure fear crossed her face and she said she wasn’t going. Resignedly, I called the principal to say Maya wouldn’t be coming back and she suggested that if Maya was willing, I come in with her and stay as long as I wanted. When I put this to Maya, reluctantly she agreed. It was quite an eye opener, I must admit and I think I now see part of the problem which, I am fairly sure, will not be solved simply by switching nurseries. Similarly to her zoo experience, Maya often finds herself the centre of attention amongst both helpers and children. She just wants to blend in but can’t easily do this. This is one problem, the other being that kids are ‘handled’ slightly differently in India from what we’re used to. I need to be a bit careful what I say here, and I want to stress that there is no right or wrong way, it’s just a cultural difference. But from what I observed, the kids were yanked around quite a bit, NOT in an unkind way but – let me give an example – rather than a helper taking a child’s hand and leading them gently to the sink to wash their hands, instead the child’s wrist is firmly encircled and they are tugged off. It’s the kind of action that would raise serious eyebrows back in England but here it is completely normal. And just because Maya’s mother spent the first 45 minutes with her, doesn’t mean that their behaviour would change in any way. This is just the way things are done. They definitely care about the kids and it’s definitely a creative, fun environment. But coming from England where children can barely be so much as touched these days without arms being thrown up, it’s just a…erm….different way of going about things.

I was really, really glad to have witnessed this though to understand more where Maya’s anxieties concerning nursery have stemmed from. Maya doesn’t like being man-handled in this way or being fawned over. As I’ve mentioned countless times, she likes and needs her personal space. The staff must think I am a ridiculous, over-protective mother but I really don’t care about that and I told them that Maya was a sensitive, independent little girl and they need to respect her space if she’s to be happy. Lots of head nodding ensued and who knows if they’ll take note, but the fact is, I’ll know if they don’t as Maya’s desire to stay away from nursery will continue and ultimately, she’ll have to stop going. It’s going to be very much a case of taking one day at a time but I’m pleased to say that when I went to pick her up at the end of the morning, she was in good spirits and even said she wanted to go back tomorrow.

Maya’s needs come first. 100%. As well as wanting her to have fun and to interact with other children, I dearly hope that things get better for her on the nursery front for another, entirely selfish reason: this is that the thought of having to entertain her (Lily’s so much easier) for the entire day is completely daunting. That probably sounds a bit pathetic, but I’m just being honest. It’s not something that’s ever been an issue before but here in the heat, where a) we can’t do much outside between 10am and 5pm b)we can’t go too far in a rickshaw because of the pollution, c) we risk our lives each time we cross the roads (I’ve got used to it, but I’m really not kidding) and d) I am sometimes very under-slept (yes, that old demon still raises it’s head) and insomnia does not mix well with 35 degrees heat and two dependent children. Oh yes, there’s an e) too – I’m chomping at the bit to start my novel! I’ve been writing bits and pieces here and there in grabbed ten minute slots. But anyway, enough ranting and moaning. I’m pretty tired today so not feeling fully positive but it will all be absolutely fine, I know it will. As soon as Maya feels more settled, that will help my own peace of mind. So fingers crossed for tomorrow and let’s hope the mention of nursery doesn’t send her hot-footing to her bedroom followed by sobs and door slamming. She is such a teenager already!

New sight at the zoo: Family

(NB: for more photos of Lily, scroll down to the Lily Blog)

Maya has seen her first Indian elephant – hooray! Today we went to Banavghatta National Park an hour south of Bangalore and I must confess I was expecting to see some elephants in the semi-wild at least. This was not to be – we found the whole zoo experience pretty disturbing and I’m sorry to say that it’ll be the first and last time we visit one whilst here. However, by no means were all the animals kept in miserable conditions (though sadly I can’t say this for the elephants) and Maya was really very excited about our visit and being surrounded by so many creatures she constantly reads about in her story books.

Not to dwell too much on the park experience itself, the irony that our family, particularly the girls, were being gawked at just as much (if not more) than any monkey or macaw was not lost on us. I was quite surprised how much attention we attracted as we were so close to Bangalore, the silicon valley of India where white faces are commonplace. But as my husband pointed out, this kind of park attracted people from far and wide and certainly not just Bangalore.

Whilst Lily slumbered in the baby carrier, we walked round looking at all the animals and as we did so, dozens (and I mean dozens) of people approached us, took photos, pinched Maya’s cheeks, boinged her curls, made extraordinary kissing sounds at her and generally got in her face. Now let me explain something – Maya is a little girl who likes her space. She can be gorgeously affectionate when she wants to be but this is nearly always with people she knows well. She is not an exhibitionist and she often doesn’t even like us taking photos of her, so imagine this scenario: Maya is minding her own business, watching a fat hippo waddling round its enclosure and suddenly she is descended upon by a large group of twenty-something males with an assortment of camera phones and normal cameras, all jostling to stand beside her, their arm around her whilst their friends take pictures. I know it’s all perfectly innocent BUT somehow there is something very unpleasant about this.

Some good advice given us was that if somebody comes over and asks to take a photo of your child, you reply that if the child agrees to this, then it’s okay. In other words, the camera-wielder must ask the permission of the child, yes, even if they are only two years old. We have found this to be very helpful, as this normally results in one of three things:1)This puts people off and they saunter off 2) Maya could be in one of her rare photo moods and gives a swift, obliging pout or the far more common number 3) whereby Maya swiftly morphs from sweet, golden haired child to fierce looking devil-child. If fire could come out of her mouth at this stage, I think it would. She has hit several people when they’ve been too full on with her or pinched her cheek just that little bit too hard. To be honest, I can’t say I can blame her. I remember hating having my photo taken as a kid, and that was without dozens of people even clamouring around me.
I know it’s just a cultural difference and as I said before, no harm is intended. Perhaps Maya will get used to it. On the other hand, if she doesn’t and actually the opposite is true and she hates such undesired attention more and more as time goes on, I just hope her temper doesn’t get the better of her and she doesn’t bite some poor person’s hand off.

Wherever I lay my hat (or hang the nappies) that's our home

I haven’t yet described to you our new home. It was a close call between this place and another apartment which was within a tower block but had lots of amenities including children’s play park and swimming pool. For a while we thought we’d go for the other place, for Maya’s sake, and we even gave the agent the green light on it. However, it didn’t sit right with either Andy or myself and when we swapped over to this little apartment, we felt far happier about it. No surly security guards, no arduous journeys up and down lifts all day and no people watching over your shoulder the whole time (it probably wouldn’t really have been like that, but there were huge amounts of people packed into a small space in the tower block).

This also means we had to kiss goodbye to the pool and the play area but hey, who needs a kids’ play park when we are living right next to one of Bangalore’s much coveted green spaces (actually yellow is a better way to describe it but I’m sure the monsoon will help turn it green). I say coveted because there ain’t much open space in this city these days. Bangalore must have been truly stunning at one point – it’s still known as ‘the garden city’ and although all those poor old gardens have been churned up and paved over, many of the roads (busy thoroughfares included) remain tree-lined and you’re never more than a stone’s throw from a beautiful old banyan or bright red and purple may blossom tree (Maya’s nursery is even situated bang smack under a mango tree – how great is that?). Because so little open space remains, from about 5am each morning, our park fills up with dozens and dozens of strollers, power walkers, people meditating, doing yoga, breathing exercises…It is an amazing sight. This continues until the strength of the sun becomes too much and then the park is virtually empty until evening time. This is when we hit it, because each and every night, there is a small central area where lots of parents and their children go to gossip, wheel around on small trikes and play ball games. The locals seem fascinated by us and our offspring (though absolutely nobody believes Maya and Lily are girls) and we’ve met some very friendly people. I’m sure the park will become a regular feature of our time here, particularly as Maya is now the proud owner of a plastic yellow Disney scooter. It is truly hideous but Maya loves it and that is the important thing.

Other things in our area are a chai stall at the end of our road (fantastic, but we’ll get teeth rot if we go there too often), a gym on the other side of the road that allegedly provides Bollywood stars with their fitness regime and blurts out loud music from 6am to 10pm each day, a café called Cocoa Sweet which, as the name suggests is full of sugary goodies, and a mangy old dog and her two pups.

As for the house itself, well we have more room than we had before, put it that way. This is partly because we have far fewer possessions here but I’m pretty sure the floor space is greater than what we had in Godmanchester, so this is good news for Maya and her scooter. We have a small kitchen (no change there), a lovely big open plan lounge / eating area, two good-sized ensuite bedrooms and a small puja room (the blessing room where locals would place icons of the various Hindu deities; I’m afraid we’ve filled it with smelly shoes though – no offence intended). We hired all the furniture from a big warehouse supplying second hand furniture – that was a fiasco in itself – it was a crazy hot day and Maya decided to climb all over what must have been pre-colonial furniture and came out with black dust and grime smothered all over her. We’ve got a funny old assortment, a bit rough around the edges but it’s absolutely fine. We’ve even got a washing machine (installed by a charming man who was genuinely passionate about washing machines but he also wanted to talk about Jesus with me for half an hour after the installation) – a big bonus as it can wash the nappies. No launderettes will accept soiled nappies (fair enough) and ‘fraid I draw the line at doing them myself! (Fiona, you are one of a kind!!)

Our ‘security guard’ (basically, every office / shop / apartment block has a guard) is a sweet, skinny man called Amar and he’s always around to help out. He lives in the basement (seriously) with his lovely wife who has started to do some cleaning for us every few days. This is an enormous help – the floors are white marble effect and get filthy dirty within seconds of letting the girls loose on them and yes, I know, I know, I could do it myself but I don’t need to go over the arguments of why we’re getting help: to provide employment and because we can afford it (although I’ve done just that – am I trying to convince myself?!) Another local character is the nameless, faceless man who lives outside mine and Andy’s bedroom and starts his day (and ours, thanks very much) with a loud and violent hock. For those of you unfamiliar with hocking, this is gathering all the phlegm in to the back of one’s throat in a swift, guttural motion and spitting it out as far as it can go. Our neighbour obviously has a lot of phlegm to clear as this can continue for up to ten minutes. Yum yum.

One final thing which I haven’t mentioned is that the fan dials are too high for Maya to reach – HOORAY! This means they are under the control of the grown-ups (boring thinks Maya no doubt) and we can all stay wonderfully, mercifully cool.
So, we’re getting settled and the walls are starting to fill up with Maya’s beautiful creations from nursery which is helping give the place colour and life. All we need now is some visitors – there’s plenty of room here so if you don’t mind sleeping beneath strung-up nappies (clean ones of course!) then go and book those flights!

Where Daddy Goes

While Maya whizzes through the flat on her scooter wearing nothing but her pink sunhat and demanding a plaster (she has developed a strange fetish for wearing plasters on her arm), I gather up my work things, put on my sandals and slip out the door bound for the office. (Yes, I’m lucky enough to be able to walk to work AND wear hippy sandals.)

My work is both rewarding and challenging. And working in India, is also head thumpingly frustrating. I am here to ensure that the ‘implementation phase’ of the programme goes ahead as planned over the next 6 months. That is, to provide sanitation infrastructure into four slums – installing a mix of community toilet blocks, small-scale wastewater treatment plants, low-cost small-bore sewerage networks and individual household latrines. I came here in January to plan all this work for the next 4 years and work out the sums – how much could we do with the alloted funds (supplied by the UK’s Department for International Development) and in what timescale. The programme has a target of reaching nearly half a million people within 4 years from now, but the idea is that we undertake a ‘pilot phase’ which we’re in now, which should identify a way forward for rolling out this infrastructure to 40 other slums throughout the city.

I’m both daunted and extremely excited about this work. On a personal level, this is a dream job for me, getting involved in the urban slum context which is the basis of my earlier thesis and research work at Cranfield University.
The people are wonderful too. There are 5 others in the office who have bent over backwards to help us get ourselves settled into private accommodations, and sort things out like rental agreements, mobile phones, broadband, furniture hire, local bank account to name a few. And of course nothing is straightforward here! You need to provide your state identity papers just to get a gas cylinder into your home for cooking!!

Working in the slums has also been amazing – and humbling. We recently had a meeting with the manual pit emptiers – the untouchables in Indian society who probably have the worst job on the planet – emptying shit from a pit latrine with just a bucket and a bottle of the hardest spirits to numb the senses. (“I only drink when I’m working” said one with conviction). Most of these areas are far away from the city sewers so have to rely on ‘on-site’ sanitation – in other words, digging a pit to store their shit until it fills up and then they get it emptied. We’re trying to devise a manual pump that can be used to pump the shit out of the pit neatly into a tank on the back of a small truck – doing away with the unsanitary practice of getting covered in the stuff, whilst injecting some dignity into their job which is actually a valuable public service – one that the local government should be doing.

I fear I’m ranting now, so will leave it there. More of my updates to follow... nicely infused between Maya's magical world.

Hindi Dancing and Japanese Clocks

Maya’s bedtime has been pushed back to 8 or 8.30pm as she now sleeps for a couple of hours in the middle of the day. She’s very chuffed at being allowed to stay up later than Lily, who still goes to bed around 7, and can often be found swaggering about her room and the corridor long after we’ve said goodnight to her. The other night, way past her bedtime, she asked me to take her nappy off as she needed the loo. As she was sitting there, a sweet, sleepy look on her face she said in a soft voice ‘Mummy, I’m so proud of you.’ I couldn’t believe it – it was so adorable it almost brought a tear to my eye! Of course, the reason she said this was because Andy and I are constantly telling her the same and no more so than in the past couple of days since she has started her new nursery.

When I first dropped her off, she looked me straight in the eye and said with a fiercely determined little voice ‘Mummy, I not crying.’ So yes, I was extremely proud of the little lady. It certainly helped that another poor wee soul was in the throes of a dramatic sobbing fit, clinging to his mother for dear life. Terrible though this is to admit, Maya has always observed such scenes with voyeuristic interest, partly because she’s pleased it’s not her and also partly, I’m sure, to pick up tips for her own next histrionic meltdown. On her first day, I returned after one hour to check up on her – no problems so out I crept and left her there for the full three hours. Maya was full of beans when I went to collect her, clutching a beautiful bright cardboard cut out of a kimono-clad Japanese lady holding a movable-hands clock. She seemed genuinely happy and I heaved a big old sigh of relief.

This morning was not quite so simple. Despite the fact Maya had been looking forward to returning to nursery, when we got there she decided after all that she didn’t want to be there. After many tears and a great deal of guilt on my part, I decided to stand for a short while outside where I was out of sight to see if she would soon calm down. And calm she did, after just a few minutes. I called the school an hour later to see how she was getting on and was reassured that she was in good spirits (perhaps they weren’t telling the truth, but you have to trust, don’t you?). Sure enough, at 1pm she came running out to greet me holding her latest creation (a cardboard traffic light pen holder no less!) and today was told by the principal how much Maya had enjoyed the Hindi dancing. (There’s my girl - I knew all those dancing sessions to i-tunes mixes around the sitting room would have to pay off one day!!) When we got back home, I asked Maya to show me the dancing she’d done at nursery and she gave a brilliant little hip-wiggling flourish – we’ll get her an extra part in a Bollywood movie before no time at all!!

So far, so good on the nursery front. The staff seem genuinely interested and kind and there’s lots of space both in and outside. Next step is to find somebody reliable and trustworthy to look after Lily in the mornings so I can do some voluntary work and also write….my next novel!! I’ve been waiting for my theme for months and this morning, quite literally, it came to me and I now am ridiculously over-excited and longing to begin…Watch this space.

Sugar and spice and all things salty

Finally, we have moved into our apartment and slowly, we are learning to move to the tunes of India’s rhythms with a little less awkwardness and trepidation. I can honestly say that Maya is dealing with this huge change to her life with infinite energy, acceptance and a wonderful sense of adventure. When I told her we were moving from our temporary accommodation, she looked at me, chewed this information over, nodded her head and said ‘Okay’. I’m not saying there haven’t been ‘moments’. But the volatile emotions of any two year old constantly throw up moments, and considering we are far from everything Maya has known to date, she is coping amazingly. Better, I might add, than her Mummy who is having to re-programme her personal hard drive in ways that I never had to when I was last in India a) because I didn’t have children back then so only had myself to look after and b) possibly because I was less aware back in 2000 of my place on this earth.
I know this is a blog for Maya, not for me, but I hope you don’t mind me releasing a little steam to describe to you what I mean by this re-programming adjustment I’m going through.
I’ve talked about food already, but to briefly return to this theme…Anyone who knows me well will know that I’m pretty particular about food, especially what goes into my little ones’ mouths. They’ve had a very healthy diet so far – lots of fresh, organic vegetables, no E numbers, lots of super healthy food like quinoa and aduki beans and home made hummus. Okay, okay, perhaps I’ve gone over the top at times, but to me it’s simple – it’s the kind of food I like, so of course I’ll feed my children the same. Fast forward to Bangalore and Maya has digested more artificial flavourings and utter rubbish and sugar in the past two weeks than she has in her entire life. We have a fridge and two hob cooker at the new place so theoretically this should make things easier…but I can’t find the ingredients I want! Today I was delighted to find some cheddar cheese and wholewheat pasta but when I cooked it for Maya, she stared at me sceptically and before even trying it said it was too spicy. She has every right to be sceptical though as I’ve tried this tack with other foods she likes, only to discover too late that the tuna she has eaten for example is, in fact, very salty, very spicy tuna. As far as drinks go, yes I’m still trying to deal with the sugar overload in the juice cartons but when we’re out and I see apple juice on the menu I am so overjoyed I order two large ones, only for my heart to sink when it turns up an even more lurid colour than a green highlighter pen. Sigh.
‘Nuff said about food and drink. Rebecca’s Re-programming # 2: Malls and supermarkets. I hate these places with a passion I really cannot articulate. I can’t stand being in confined spaces with tons of other people fighting for air and aisle and queueing space. I very, very rarely go into either supermarkets or shopping centres in England and if I do, I purposely don’t wear my glasses or contact lenses so I can’t really see that much anyway and get out as fast as I can. Yep, call me neurotic, call my crazy, but this is the way it is! So, here I am in India and I’ve realised a couple of things pretty fast. 1) If I want to get my children food that they will eat I need to patronise supermarkets and 2) It is very, very hot here. I have always been an outdoors person but it is too hot to be outside with the girls for any length of time between around 10am and 4.30pm. Malls have air conditioning. And bookshops. And play areas. Last time in India, I don’t remember ever being overly bothered by the heat. This time, remember I am carrying one sweaty baby on my chest and have another sweaty toddler’s hand in mine and all I can think of during the day is getting inside, somehow, anyhow, anywhere! Groan, I think I am going to have to ‘get over’ supermarkets and malls!
Rebecca’s re-programming # 3: Recyling and rubbish. Yes, I really am one of those people who pulls off the plastic part of an envelope so I can separate into the recycling bin and the normal bin. Sad, isn’t it? There is no recycling here and I balk every time I throw a tin can, cereal box, beer bottle or vegetable peelings into the normal bin. Either I am going to have to go on a serious mission to find out if there is in fact some recycling going on in the city or just ‘get over’ it again, otherwise I shall be a nervous rubbish wreck after 6 months!
Rebecca’s re-programming # 4: Hygiene. Let’s be honest, I’ve never been the tidiest person in the world and when it came to cleaning the house, I could find a hundred reasons why other things were more important. I have to be fanatical about cleanliness now, cleaning the girls hands with water, soap and disinfectant gel whenever I remember. Before meals, after meals, between meals. Basically, the entire time. The dust and the grime of Bangalore is intense and Maya in particular spends a lot of time picking things up off the ground and putting her hands in her mouth. This is not pleasant in a place where ‘flying turds’ are common (people defecating in plastic bags and hurling them indiscriminately away from them).
Right, I’ll get off my soap box of neuroses now. As I have said, these are issues that I need to make peace with one way or another. I don’t want Maya’s first memory to be of an overwrought, stressed out Mummy hyperventilating at a roadside café because she has been bought a drink with a few E numbers in it. I need to keep a little perspective here. They’ve had an amazing start and they’re hardly going to starve. And let’s face it, a few E numbers never killed a kid, did they? Besides, I don’t want to give the impression that I’m stressed all the time! I never wish we weren’t here and when things are difficult I remember that we are in India and there are so many things I love about this place. This is a country where women wear jasmine in their hair so that the sweet scent follows them all day. This is a country where people wear clothes of every colour of the rainbow. This is a country where dusk paints the streets in gentle shades and the parks fill with hundreds of people enjoying respite from the heat. I could go on and on, but for now, this is the country that we are going to spend the next six months in and grow accustomed to all its frustrating but fascinating ways.

Yoga mat-melting heat and frayed nerves

This is how hot it is: today the bottom of the yoga mat melted and stuck to the floor. Inside. And we're talking about an apartment with numerous fans in it. Speaking of fans, Maya has got in to the habit of repeatedly turning off all the fans that I have turned on. Nope, the equation of fans on = less hot = less stressful has not yet sunk in.

As you may have picked up on, nerves have been somewhat frayed today. We went to a nursery to register Maya this morning (more of that later) and the plan had been to continue on to the one good childrens' play park in the area. But after paying the registration, I realised I had only enough money to get us home in a rickshaw, despite having put plenty of cash in my purse. I then remembered having seen Maya play around with it earlier and had forgotten to double check before leaving home. So no park for Maya. I'd been promising her this, so she wasn't happy.

Back at home, after Lily had had a quick nap, I decided we'd go out for juice and then to the bookshop where we'd left her little backpack last week. But after organising the girls and on the point of finally leaving the house, I realised the key had vanished. Lily had to come out of the baby carrier, a full scale, sweaty search ensued (sans fans - thanks Mayita) but no sign of the keys. Eventually, I gave up on the idea, turned on some cartoons with jarring voices whilst I could continue looking. By the time it got to lunch, I had had it with keys and decided to leave the house nonetheless and go to a nearby cafe for the aforementioned juice and sandwiches. But the cafe was closed. So we trundled through the cloying heat to another little place.

"Hi, do you do sandwiches?"
"Yes Madam, we do."
Bingo.
"Great, what do you have?"
"The trouble is Madam that the man who is making the sandwiches isn't here."
"Ah. Could you make them?"
"Yes, Madam I could..."
Fantastic.
"...but the trouble is we are not having any ingredients right now."
"Nothing?"
Dinesh has a think (yes, I have learnt his name)..."Ah!" His eyes ignite, "We are having a burger!"
"We can have a burger?"
"Yes Madam, a burger in a sandwich."

This was not my day. Back at home, a botched pasta-job lunch later, Maya didn't want to have a lie down and when she eventually relented, Lily woke up. When the heat of the afternoon had slightly subsided, I decided to give the nearby juice bar another go (we went the other day and I'd thought it may be quite a regularly visited place for us). Closed again. I was informed by the next door gym that it was closed for a while.
"For how long?"
"Maybe two weeks..." Ok, not a disaster. "...Or maybe two months, " they add. Groan. Yup, most definitely one of those days.

Maya did not want to go to bed this evening. She kept wandering out of her room saying she needed the loo, she had a runny nose, she wanted to look for the keys (where have you hidden them, you little scoundrel?!), she wanted a cuddle....Now she's eventually gone down, I sincerely hope she gets some decent kip. If this heat is hard for me, then it's got to be even harder for a sensitive-skinned, sensitive-dispositioned little two year old. People keep helpfully informing us that we've come to Bangalore for the wrong 6 months. Yup, thanks for that. It's getting hotter and hotter and soon this heat will break and instead of intense sunshine we'll have...intense rain!

Anyway, I shall quit my moaning now and focus on a positive turn of events. Next week, Maya will start at a Montessori nursery school. I went round a few nurseries yesterday and after we had left each one, I was met with noisy sobbing by the little one. It didn't take long to figure out that she couldn't understand why we were going to these lovely places with toys and games and children and then leaving them so soon. In between the visits she said "Want to go to school! Want to go to school!" Bless her. I had planned to see several more in the coming days but forget it if it's going to have that effect on Maya. So we opted for my favourite one - one that, in fact, when we were shown around Maya walked straight up to the group of children and sat down with them! Amazing. She is clearly longing to be with other kids her own age again. Nearly all nurseries close down for the summer but many, this one included, puts on a summer camp for one of the two months of the summer holiday. So off Maya will go next monday with her satchell and her snacks and her sunhat! I really hope she'll be ok.

Tomorrow we are moving so if I don't write for a while it's not because I've lost the plot and no longer have the will to write (at least, I hope not!) - it'll be because we're getting internet sorted at the new place. Plenty more challenges ahead of us, such as no bath for the girls (I know we've improvised enough in the past with tubs and sinks and buckets but having a bath here was a serious bonus) and having to acquire bits and pieces for the flat, but plenty to look forward to aswell. I just hope the dial for the fans is out of Maya's sweaty little reach.