Maia Nets Some New Fans

Saturday afternoon Maia, Pat, Noonah and myself joined a Christmas friends and family get-together at Fish! in the middle of Borough Market organised by Hannah, a good friend of mine from University.

There were supposed to be 12 of us, and the table was duly laid for 12. However (as always happens at these things) more people turned up, and the atmosphere quickly got very friendly as everyone squished up and re-organised tables and chairs to make room.

Hannah instantly endeared herself to Maia by presenting her with a set of plasticine blocks and cutters. The grown-ups joined Maia in making shapes and models with great enthusiasm and creativity...which almost bordered on Taking Over. Highlights were Andrew's lobster effort and Maia's pizza for Hannah.

During the meal, Maia sat at the head of the table and behaved brilliantly, chatting to the people around her, colouring in, playing with her plasticine and purloining most of the chips meant for the top half of the table.

The plan for the lunch was that, part way through, we would all get up and swop places. This provided the perfect opportunity for Hannah's mum, Sue, to get a vicarious grandchild fix. Sue was smitten, while Hannah and her brother Dominic sent her warning, Don't-Get-Any-Ideas glances.

Later on, Dominic's gf Becky entertained Maia by taking pictures of her, and letting her take pictures of the table and herself and Mummy and Andrew and herself and Andrew's Dad and herself.

At dessert, Maia spurned apple crumble and custard to cherry-pick the blueberries, grapes and strawberries from Noonah's fruit salad while supping milk that arrived in a perfectly Maia-sized jug. Subsequently, Noonah's coffee was blacker than she normally takes it, but she didn't seem to mind too much.

Hugely full, and a little merry from the wine and good conversation, we hopped on the train to get home. Maia's enthusiasm for the tube train brought a smile to the face of our fellow passengers, and our extended trip back (cancelled train) included a taxi ride. Sharing a cab with another couple who were also going to Kings Langley was made far less awkward by the fact that Maia chatted ALL THE WAY THERE. We heard about her day, what she did last weekend (see cheetah story...) that she didn't like loud banging noises, that monkeys and lions are her favourite animals. She even gave them her bestest meercat impression.

I think a future in entertainment is beckoning...

Lewis the Horse, and It Ain't Every Day You Get Sniffed at by a Cheetah.

Pat, Maia and I went down to Covent Garden to meet up with Aunty Jellybean on Saturday afternoon. Maia loves going on trains, but was less sure about the crush of people who also decided that Covent Garden on a Saturday was a good idea. Gen instantly endeared herself to Maia by giving her a colourful, and fabulously noisy, tambourine to keep her occupied. Oddly, our reaction was slightly less keen...

After a while chatting to the various Bahamians who tipped up, we decided to go and see if we could seek out some street performers to show Maia. We found a lady singing opera very loudly, and a couple of performers who had a Charlie Chaplin/mime/balloon manipulator thing going on. She wasn't desperately impressed.

However, all that changed when we discovered the carousel. Our timing was perfect, as the last go round was coming to an end, so Pat and Maia hopped onto the first available horse, paid their pound and cheered as they started to go round. Maia waved enthusiastically each time she spun round to where I was standing, and had a great time. When they dismounted, I noticed that her horse was called Lewis. As Lewis at the Funny Farm is 'her favourite', she thought this was fabulous, and remarked on it quite a few times.

Sunday was a bit of a grey day, and as is rapidly becoming tradition, we decided to take Maia to a zoo. The (rather optimistically named) Paradise Wildlife Park in Broxbourne was our choice.

I am sure in the summertime the Paradise Wildlife Park is a pretty inviting place to be, but on a cold winter Sunday, it is actually ever-so-slightly sinister. It was very quiet, as most people were sensibly doing Inside Things. We saw a parrot display where the parrots outnumbered the audience, and at times wondered if we were the only people in there.

However, all this did mean we had no competition for the best spots to view all the animals up close and pretty personal.

There are lots of cats at PWP, lions, tigers, cheetahs, ocelots - you name it, they've got it - and they are displayed in large enclosures with glass viewing windows cut into the cage. When we came to the cheetah enclosure, two of the cats were right up against the window cleaning each other. Maia was just tall enough to stand by herself and see through the glass, and as soon as she arrived the cheetahs looked right at her, and sniffed at her through the glass. She thought this was truly wonderful.

We disturbed a bundle of meercats and showed them our bestest meercat impressions, then ruined all the good feeling generated by screeching like eagles so we could watch them scatter. We saw lions being fed ex-bunnies (full of life lessons, these trips) and got snorted at by a camel. After some hot chocolate, a ride on a fire engine and a plate of chips, it was time to go home.

On the way home, Maia decided that the lions were her favourite. Closely followed by the monkeys. And the meercats...

My Birthday Strikes a High Note

It was my 28th Birthday on Monday (ack ack ack feel old!).

It was a pretty good haul this year - I got a beautiful burgandy cashmere poncho from Pat, a fabulous waterprint suitcase from Mum, Dad and Alec and a wire palm tree to sit in the fruitbowl from Maia. However, I didn't really get to open any of these myself. Maia appointed herself Chief Present Unwrapper and did a fabulous job. I suspect no-one in the house will be opening their own presents this Christmas.

However, it was when it came time for cake and candles that she really outdid herself. Drawing on her extensive experience from her own birthday, she serenaded me with a rendition of 'Happy Birthday' that was so high in the middle that only dogs and very specialized CIA/MI6 equipment could pick it up. Watch out Tiri Te Kanawa, my kid's got range like you wouldn't believe.

Toot & Puddle

Mog is favourite no more. We have a new set of books that are requested time and again (and again.) Ladies and Gentlemen, a round of applause for Toot & Puddle.

Toot & Puddle are pigs who live together in Woodcock Pocket. Toot is adventurous and thrill seeking (one story sees him travel to Provence on a whim, where he finds a little place called CouCou Poche) while Puddle prefers to stay home, cook, go ice skating, walk in the woods and do home stuff. They are best friends, and the books celebrate difference and friendship.

They are beautifully drawn, sweet without being sickly and, more importantly, NOT BORING TO READ!!!

Hurrah and deepest thanks to Dr Kris and Kathy for sourcing books that can be enjoyed by parent AND child. Trust me, it is a rare feat.

Maiasaurus!!

With thanks to Google Images...and HarperCollins, and anyone else I have to thank to not get shouted at for copyright stuff...
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The Ballad of Angel Mouse, by Pat

If you’re in trouble and you need a friend
Angel Mouse is just round the bend
Just call Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

If you’re having trouble when you’re trying to play
And a little boy called Louie keeps on getting in the way
Just call Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

She’s small but strong and haven’t you heard?
She growls like a tiger and flies like a bird
It’s Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

When the Rowly Monsters are out to play
Angel Mouse will chase them away
Just call Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

If supper's horrid - the worst you’ve ever seen
Angel Mouse will bring you a JellyBean
Just call Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

She’s small but strong and haven’t you heard?
She growls like a tiger and flies like a bird
It’s Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

And when it's time to have a doze
Angel Mouse will tickle your nose
Just call Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

Now you’re asleep it's time, I think
For Angel Mouse to bring me a stiff drink
Just call Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

She’s small but strong and haven’t you heard?
She growls like a tiger and flies like a bird
It’s Angel Mouse, Angel Mouse

A Ranking of SuperHeroes, According to Maia

When one is dealing with Rowly Monsters - whether they be Things that Lurk in Dark Corners or Mummy pretending - it is neccesary to have a means of defense.

Maia's method is pretty cool. She flings out her hand, palm outwards and shouts "Spiderman!" or occasionally "Batman!" and the Rowly Monsters cower, disappear, or at least burst out laughing.

At lunch last Sunday, while Maia demonstrated her technique, Jenny G noted the gender bias in this tactic. What about WonderWoman? Couldn't she help? Agreeing that Maia should have a strong female superhero to defend herself with, I have enthusiastically encouraged her to shout "WonderWoman!" when confronted with the Rowly Monster. I have little to report in the way of success.

Matters were further complicated this morning when Noonah decided that "Dangermouse!" would be a good call. Maia looked at us quizzically and said "Angelmouse?"

She is right...In the grand scale of SuperHeroes, Angelmouse is pretty far down.

Perhaps we will stick with Spiderman and Batman for the moment. At least until someone develops a proper female superhero. Maybe she objects to the whole 'saving the world in hotpants and bangles' thing that WonderWoman has got going on... Who knows.

Making Choices, The Song

We were in a rush and Maia wouldn't choose which shoes to wear, Jumping Boots or Purple Butterflies. So (in an effort to distract/hurry things along) I decided to teach her the classic choosing song Eeny Meeny Miny Mo. She decided to make it a little bit more personal to her.

Her version:

Eeny Weeny Maia Mo
Catch a Tiger by the toe
If it hollers, let it go
Eeny Weeny Maia Mo

In the end, she wore the Purple Butterflies. And took the Jumping Boots with her...

(One In The) Eye For Fashion

Maia is becoming more willful (more? oh man...) and one way that this is being expressed is in her clothing choices.

Yesterday morning we left for the Funny Farm in:

a yellow, pink and dark blue dress (from Dr Kris and Kathy)
stripy tights of yellow, pink, blue, red, green and white
raindrop print blue welly boots,
clutching her pink, purple, white and yellow flowery handbag.

At least we know she won't get lost...

The Importance of Learning a Language Early, According to the Funny Farm

I am very keen that Maia starts to learn another European language early - probably French or Spanish. So imagine my delight when she came home from the Funny Farm and started to sing Frère Jacque.

I was imagining summers in Paris, visiting her while she was en vacances from her diplôme at the Sorbonne when I tuned back into the song.

Frère Jacque,
Frère Jacque,
Dorme vous?
Dorme vous?
Jammy semolina,
Jammy semolina,
Din Dan Don,
Din Dan Don.

Hmmm. Aucun problème, nous avons assez de temps.*

*with thanks to BabelFish

A Trip to London Zoo, After Which a Lion Was Renamed.

Sunday afternoon was a bit rainy, a bit overcast and rather cold. All in all, a very British November day. A day for sitting under a duvet and supping hot chocolate. Or a day to troop about London Zoo, trying to spot the few animals daft enough to be out in the cold and wet. Zoo it was!

Part of the reason for the trip to the Zoo was to tie in with a rather special present, brought all the way from Washington DC for Maia. Dr Kris and her mum Kathy had found a Lion. Not just any Lion, but a thoroughly resplendent feline, all tufty caramel fur topped with a rather 1970s ginger mane. For some reason, prior to his introduction to Maia, Dr Kris and Chris had decided that Bartholemew was, in fact, gay. So, on this rainy Sunday, outside London Zoo, Maia was introduced to Bartholemew The Gay Lion*.

As soon as she saw him, Maia was smitten. A huge cuddle, followed by much affectionate face squeezing cemented the friendship. This was one very loved Lion. However, she struggled somewhat with the name.

Our zoo tour took in the giraffes ("One, two, three!"), some red bush pigs and piglets ("Babe!") monkeys, capuchins, a skunk, a Lesser Spotted Shrew ("That is a mouse"), a sloth ("We should leave him alone. He is tired"), some mangrove fish in mud ("This is not my favourite")... In fact the phrases "This is not my favourite" and "We should leave him alone" came up rather alot. If this makes it sound as though she didn't have a good day, it is not meant to - she really did. She just appreciated the animals, then decided it was time to move on to the next ones.

Dr Kris and Chris decided that a spotty cat called a servin was their favourite, while I went for the giraffes. I think Maia decided that her favourite was the elephant. Odd, given that we didn't see any elephants, but if she wants the elephant as her favourite, then she can have it...

Throughout the day, BTGL (forgive me, but Bartholemew The Gay Lion takes SO LONG to type!) was perched in the puchchair wearing various coats cast off by Maia and, later, Maia's Princess Rabbit tiara.

We rode on a roundabout, stopped for milk and cookies (Maia spent most of the time flirting with Chris and eating the majority of his crisps), coloured in a paper butterfly or two, bought a Nemo balloon and were almost the last to leave.

Maia kissed Dr Kris and Chris goodbye, was helped into her carseat, grabbed BTGL and promptly fell asleep.

When she woke up, I asked her what her lion was called. She replied "Barf-on-you". And so he is duly renamed.

A great day.

*I would like to point out that we are, after all, equal opportunities stuffed toy owners. Some of our best friends are man-made fibre, not suitable for under 3s.

Maia and Mummy at the Zoo

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Maia and BTGL Share a Milky Kiss

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Maia Checks That We Are In The Right Place

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Adventures with Noonah and Alec - Princess Rabbit

The Parmiter's Craft Fair (Fayre?) has been a staple in the Mitchell/Mitchell-Packington/ Packington household for years. Each year, Mum goes along and returns (a little tipsy from the mulled wine) with some homemade cakes, a knick-knack or two and having seen all the people she used to teach with.

This year, Alec, Sarah (his fabulous gf) and Maia accompanied Mum on her trip.

Maia took to the mulled wine and mince pie stall with gusto, demolishing a mince pie in record time. She didn't seem to notice that her mulled wine was suspiciously water-like, or if she did, she didn't mind.

Wandering around the various stalls brought out the magpie in her, as she went for every shiny, silvery, sparkly thing that caught her eye.

Next, she spotted the face painting stall. Enthralled, she demanded to have her face painted. Did she want a flower? No. Did she want to be a tiger? No. She wanted to be a rabbit.

"A rabbit? Are you sure? Ok then..."

So, very patiently, she sat still until the transformation was complete.

Later on, her magpie eyes spotted a fabulously shiny, silvery and sparkly tiara. For only 10p she was transformed into Princess Rabbit, and would answer to nothing else all day.

Maia Makes Sandcakes

While Mum was away in Portugal, I was making dinner for Maia and myself. Stupidly, I had decided to make something that required full attention was paid so that it didn't burn/go gungey.

So I set Maia up with a tape player (playing Mog, of course) and got on with making dinner. Maia soon tired of Mog and pottered about, keeping herself amused. She had been quiet for about 2-3 minutes when I got suspicious.

"Maia darling, whatcha doing?"

"Playing with sand"

"sand?"

I went thorugh to the room by the kitchen (passing an open kitchen cabinet on the way) to find Maia, the floor and a cat or two covered in flour.

Well, we have now discovered that flour doesn't make good sandcastles, but it makes a great mess!

***PICTURE!***

OK, I know it is a really old one (from our Bahamas trip in March 2003) but I just rediscovered it, and damn, it's cute! So here you go..."Maia with Improvised Hat"
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Adventures with Daddy - Butt of the Joke

Maia and Pat were playing on the bed.

Pat playfully smacked her on the bottom, saying "I'm smacking your bottom! I'm smacking your bottom!"

Maia ran through to me (in the other room, folding laundry) and said "Daddy was smacking my bottom!" in a hilarious faux-outraged voice. So I said "If you don't want Daddy to smack your bottom, then go through and say 'That's not nice, Daddy. Don't smack my bottom." She did.

Pat then pinched her bottom, all the while saying "I'm pinching your bottom! I'm pinching your bottom!"

Again, Maia ran through to me. "Daddy is pinching my bottom!". So again I said "If you don't want Daddy to pinch your bottom, go through and say 'That's not nice, Daddy. Don't pinch my bottom." She did.

Then she looked at Pat sternly and said

"Kiss it. Kiss my bottom!"

Through tears of laughter, he did.

Feline Dissent

It appears that it is not just the grown-up humans in the house who have had enough of Mog.

I discovered, last night, that a suspicious liquid had soaked through the (well thumbed) pages of Mog the Forgetful Cat.

Perhaps we will have to write our own series. Suggestions on a postcard please.

Here are some to get you started...

Manky the Revengeful Cat
Scotty the Inconitnent Cat
Beckett the Avenger
Narley Harley...

Through Gritted Teeth...

Mog?

Again?

Are you sure you wouldn't like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? Or The BFG?

Or ANYTHING else?

No?

Definitely Mog? Not Postman Pat, or Mr Cheerful, or Giraffes Can't Dance, or Commotion in the Ocean, or Dinosaur Roar?

OK then. Here we go again..

"Once there was a cat called Mog..."

New Boots

We bought Maia some really cool Clarks boots - little lace up desert boots in suede. She loves them, and stomps about in them quite merrily.

However, they are NOT:

Super Boots
Great Boots
Dancing Boots
Running Boots
Funky Boots
Cool Boots

or any other descriptive term you can come up with.

This is because Maia has decreed that they are Jumping Boots. To refer to them as anything else will earn you a serious telling off.

Funny Face from the Funny Farm

I got quite a shock this afternoon, picking Maia up from the Funny Farm. In order to pass the time on a grey, rainy autumn day, a box of face-paints had been produced and used to full effect.

On my arrival I was greeted by a bright pink faced Maia, with heavy blue eyebrows, looking for all the world like a rather small, PeptoBismol coloured Oompa Loompa.

I think the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is being filmed in Leavesden, just down the road... Off to go see if anyone from central casting is interested.

Adventures with Noona - Maia Knows Me Well

It is a sunny, clear, cool Autumn morning and Maia and I have just enjoyed an early breakfast of banana and strawberry smoothie followed by brown toast and egg. Now it is time to go to the Funny Farm. Maia mostly dresses herself, with a little help from me. She then sits happily playing with the 'talking book' (Pappy's Birthday present to her).
I tell her I am going up stairs to get dressed. She nonchalantly looks up and appraises me and says 'Put on a skirt and a stripy top and have some wine'
I do follow her orders but leave out the wine for the moment, 8am is too early even for me.

New Catchphrase

We have bought Maia a tape and book set of Mog The Forgetful Cat, her first of the classic series by Judith Kerr.

In the book, Mog, a rather dim-but-lovely tabby cat, gets herself and her family into adventures and scrapes, with everything working out well in the end. However, during these adventures and scrapes, the Thomas family (owners of Mog) regularly say "Bother that cat!"

Maia thinks this is a wonderful phrase and enthusiastically joins in whenever the phrase appears in the book or tape. She is so enamored of it that she even shouts it out when book and tape are nowhere to be seen or heard. One slight problem is her inability to properly enunciate the "th" sounds....so the phrase sounds somewhat ruder than it should. Bother that lisp.

*Coughsplutter* Foils Travel to Barcelona

Maia has a cold and a bit of a chest infection. As she is coughing and hacking like someone with a 50-a-day habit, I took her to the doctor yesterday evening. He told me what I already knew - that it was Not a Good Idea to take her on a plane. So, we are no longer going to Barcelona to see Pat for his birthday. However, as of this morning, he is booked on a flight to come over here for the weekend instead.

It has really brought home to me how free from artifice kids are - she is feeling rubbish and there is no hiding it. When she feels grotty, she grizzles and grumbles and groans. The flip side is, of course, that when she is grot (and snot) free, she is sunny and happy.

So, I have got a prescription to deal with the snottiness, and a Saturday afternoon painting session which may deal with the grottiness.

Might not have Spanish sunshine this weekend, but we will try and ensure a sunnier Maia.

Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce

Maia has discovered jumping and bouncing.

An example:

bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce "Look Mummy, look" bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce "No, LOOK Mummy, look" bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce

"Wow, good bouncing Maia. Would you like to do some dancing?"

"Yes."

music starts....

bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce

Adventures with Daddy: What Colour is a Lesson?

Well the easy answer, for those of you who don’t know, is quite simple. It’s blue.

Having spent the weekend with Maia sans Erica, I now have a greater appreciation for the power of children's poetry and for biltong.

Maia's love of poetry meant that the car drive of over an hour to see her great Uncle Douglas, (GREAT) Aunt Hilary and cousin Harry, was an example of how good her attention span has become. She sat in her car seat and quietly absorbed the various poems, while her father listened in abject horror as a little girl who told lies was burnt in a house fire and one little boy who wandered away got noshed by a lion. One of the poems was about a little girl on her first day at school, wondering what colour a lesson is and whether a teacher is someone who brings the tea...(there is a connection).

Harry (who is an outstanding junior tennis player) was playing in the club final at Wentworth and we tagged along to watch. Maia and I calmly undid all the good work of Erica and Heather by drinking Ribena and eating blueberry Muffins there might have been some chocolate as well. After the game, which Harry won to nil, Maia decided that she wanted to play tennis. Thoughts of Wimbledon and fame and fortune as her coach wafted lazily through my head as I chased her round and round one of the courts. I then tried to get her to play catch. (Note to self...this needs a LOT more work before fame and fortune).

And then home...more poetry and biltong (mentioned earlier). Biltong is dried meat from South Africa - it's dried to an ancient recipe, handed down, some say, by the god Zeus - or not. It is an aquired taste and one which Maia has aquired...if you listen carefully, you might be able to hear ancestors on my South African side cheering quietly. So, the journey home was poetry and biltong - and a moment shared in silence (broken up by jaws masticating biltong) between Maia and myself that I will cherish for as long as I live.

When we got home I prepped dinner and just as I was about to hand Maia her food she asked

"Daddy...what colour is a lesson?"

I spent five minutes patiently explaining what a lesson was. This was met with a perplexed expression. She asked me again.

"Daddy...what colour is a lesson?"

The answer is simple....it's blue.

Going Potty

Maia Miss M is out of nappies during the day, and into Big Girl's Pants. In fact, Big Girl's Pants is not an exaggeration - she is so little that the very smallest ones we can find are a bit baggy on her.

We have a potty song that must be sung (at top volume) while she sits down and it goes like this:
(to the tune of Glory Glory Hallelulah)

Maia's sitting on the potty
Maia's sitting on the potty
Maia's sitting on the potty,
and she's going to do a pee or a poo!

It is getting to the stage where she nigh-on refuses to perform without her choral accompaniment.

Guess she will be fine if she ever lives in a house with no lock on the loo door!

Flights of Fancy Cheese

Last night I was making a salad when Maia started chatting away about Cinderella. I started to listen more closely and discovered that she thought I was putting Cinderella in the salad.

Worried that her imagination had taken a rather Grimm turn, I explained that I was using tomato, onion, olives, basil and mozzarella. No mistreated young princesses in MY salad.

It was only after I passed her a selection of the salad ingredients did I discover that mozzarella is mozzerella no more. It is, of course, Cinderella.

The Fabulously Elastic Birthday....

Maia is loving the fact that, due to her many international family members and guardians, her second birthday bonanza is stretching far beyond the more traditional one-day celebration.

She comes home from the Funny Farm singing 'Happy Birthday' and says 'Time for presents!' quite alot...

She even managed to bring some birthday cheer to our trip to the park this weekend. We were happily pottering about under the trees in St Albans park when it started to look like rain. We hightailed it into the cathedral, where Maia happened upon the votive candles, sending the faithful's prayers up to the heavens.

In a loud and clear voice, which fully took advantage of the amazing acoustics in the building, she started to belt out 'Happy Birthday to you....' and then wanted to blow them all out. I had to explain that this wasn't really done. There was a gaggle of old ladies sat in front of the candles who thought that this was seriously sweet, and they laughed and fawned over her, so she wasn't too disappointed.

Now We Are Two...

Saturday 14th August

Wow. Two!!

In preparation for the big day, Maia had spent most of last week serenading all and sundry with slighty less than tuneful renditions of 'Happy Birthday' (dear MAAAAA-YAAAAHHHH! Happy birthday to YOOOOUUUUU). Hmmm.

At just before 2pm, Lisa, Austin and Charlie (2) appeared bearing gifts. Maia was pretending to be shy, but, I fear, only to lull Charlie into a false sense of security before she pounced and expertly relieved him of the gift he was carrying. She did give him a kiss to say thank you.

Her own-age party guests were Charlie, Lewis and Jennifer. Also in attendance was Millie (aged 7 months), who showed she had the skills to hang with the older crowd by holding her own against the tumbling older kids in the ball pool.

The kids ran about, playing in the Wendy House, ball pool and the not-so-fun Summer 2004 game du jour of 'Avoid the Wasp'.

A game of Pass the Parcel gave everyone a kazoo, and Lewis was especially good at getting a REALLY loud noise from his. The cacophany of the kazoos neatly led into a music session, with Maia's guitar toting dad, Pat. This went down fabulously with mothers and babies enthusiatically belting out Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Wheels on the Bus and Row Row Row Your Boat. Everyone added to the noise with kazoos, maracas and jingle bells.

Present opening was highly successful, until the bright pink and silver teaset was opened and the proceedings were focussed much more on who would like milk and sugar than on opening any more presents. So we left the rest for later - and what a lot of presents she had! Huge thanks to everyone who came.

After food and drink and cakes and Happy Birthday (which Maia led us in) everyone took their leave, leaving a very happy, tired, slightly sugar delirious two-year-old Maia.

A good day all round - check www.patrickcull.co.uk for more pics.

Welcome!

Welcome to the inaugural post of our new blog 'Maia Maia Jumbalaya' - your window on the world of Miss Maia Ani-Jo Sunshine Packington-Cull.

We have a website (http://www.patrickcull.co.uk/) in progress that will provide a much more comprehensive picture library of her exploits, but the purpose of this blog is to let you know about the day-to-day stuff that makes her just magic. Enjoy!