CONFESSIONS · LIFE · MAIA'S ADVENTURES

Confessions of a Single Mother: Friday Night in with Maia

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“Babies don’t come with instruction booklets. You’d learn the same way we all do — you’d read up on dinosaurs, you’d Google backhoes and skidders. And you don’t need a penis to go buy a baseball glove.”
― Jodi Picoult, Sing You Home

Friday night in with Maia went a little something like this:

1.) “HIT IT AGAIN, THIS WAY, THAT’S IT, YES WELL DONE MAIA!!”

For a good 20-30 minutes Maia and I batted a large purple balloon from one side of our tiny living room to the other. I somehow managed to do this still attached to the sofa, whilst she ran around hitting it to herself, the ceiling, the TV and back again. She’s actually got surprisingly good hand eye coordination for a three year old.

And when she did hit it in the wrong direction:

“Oh! Sorry Mummy! You’re not over there! You’re over THERE!”

She found the whole process hilarious. I got quite into it myself:

“GOOD HIT! GREAT CATCH! WELL DONE!! AND AGAIN! AND AGAIN! THIS WAY!!!” 

“This is a fun game Mummy”.

“I know, well I think we’re both very good at it.” 

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2. PLAYING LOGS. 

After preparing Maia for bedtime we often have a tickle/cuddle/generally being silly in her room before a story. This time I got so tired out I slumped down and sort of lay on the floor in a tired-log-position for a moment. Before I could move, Maia began trying to push me to get up:

“ROLY POLY..I’m going to roll you over Mummy…”. 

*Tries, but can’t quite manage to make me budge..*

“Mummy.. I can’t.. do it..”

“Oh.. am I too heavy?”

*comes and lies down next to me, also in a log position with her arms by her side..*

“I can’t move either mummy…”

*comes and lies on top of me*

“Maia…” 

*giggles*

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3. THE SPOON

*sat in the living room eating Tiramisu..*

Me: “Dad you might want a spoon for the tiramisu, it’s more of a mousse than a cake…”

Maia: “Grandad, you can’t eat that with your fingers.. you need a spoon..”

Dad: “Are you just copying your mummy?”

“…Yes…”

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“Your children make it impossible to regret your past. They’re its finest fruits. Sometimes the only ones.”
― Anna Quindlen, Black and Blue

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