Maia Breaks My Heart

About a week after the move, the house was in chaos, we were all still ill and a bit grumpy, including Maia. Mum and I were sat down to dinner with her (porridge - the only thing she felt like eating) and she looked up at me, eyes like a wounded Bambi, and said

'I want to go home'

Well, my heart broke. I stumbled through a garbled explanation that we were home, this was our new home, and that she would feel better soon, I promise. Then I gave her a jellybean to try and cheer her up, all the while trying not to cry (and feeling guilty about the sugar).

The weight of the responsibility was crushing. I knew she would be happy in this house, this school, this city but that it would take time. A big concept to relate to a two year old.

It is about six weeks since we moved, and she now feels that this house is home. In fact pretty much as soon as the cold cleared up, she cheered up loads. We drive up the hill and she shouts 'That is my house! Look! Not the white one!' and can recite '42a Upper Albert Road' when you ask her where she lives....usually followed by an unprompted 'Maia....Ani-Jo....Sunshine...PackingtonCull!'

So, she knows who she is, where she lives, and she likes both. I think we are doing pretty good.