This weekend past was spent marking Shakeel's entry into adolescence. Although his thirteenth birthday is still more than two weeks away, he insisted that he wanted to celebrate it during the school holidays.
So after months of him begging and pleading, I agreed to a boys' camp away from home. His dad was secretly ecstatic - he had wanted to go camping for ages, but this had never come to pass, since I was always reluctant to stay in a tent with two-year old Aisha - since not even the brick walls of a building are enough to silence the shrieks this child emits during her hour-long tantrums. I knew that we'd be evicted from any camp site after just one night.
So Mo, while pretending to resign himself to the awful duty of going camping with Shakeel and some of Shakeel's friends, booked a spot at Miller's Point near Simon's Town.
Accompanying them would be Mo's older brother and his son. They would be using a tent which sleeps 8 and two smaller 2- sleepers.
But I didn't care about their sleeping arrangements. Nor did I care about what activities they would be enjoying while away. Nor about their meals. Instead, as the weekend approached, I started to become increasingly apprehensive about them leaving.
I mentioned a while back how much I hate my family being split up when we have available family time (like weekends). I don't even like the kids to spend the night by their grandparents - I can't help feeling as if it is a waste of the time we could have spent together. (Is that selfish?)
When this happens I feel lost and incomplete - as if part of me is missing.
So, in anticipating this past weekend, in addition to me inevitably feeling lost, I also dreaded my time with the three girls who would be remaining behind. I did not look forward to the moans of ''Why does Shakeel have all the fun?'' and ''Now what fun activity can we do'' (since I owed them for allowing Shakeel to have more fun than what they would). Mostly, I dreaded Aisha's tantrums. Although I deal with her tantrums all day while Mo is at work, I am usually comforted by the fact that there is an end in sight, i.e. when Mo get's home at the end of the day. And what would I do if she threw tantrum in the middle of the night (as she so often does these days)? Oh, the horror!!
So on Saturday morning, I walked about the house with an air of sadness, wondering if anyone was appreciative of my laudable unselfishness - putting the desires of my son and his dad above my own needs. When it was time to leave, I greeted Shakeel with a lump in my throat and a forced smile - secretly impressed with my own stoicism. What a mother I was!
I greeted Mo with a hug and a kiss and, as he turned to walk away, I heaved a sigh of relief at my own triumph - my victory over the urge to mutter in his ear, '' This is all your fault! I hate you for doing this to me!'' Instead, I smiled at him through my clenched jaw and quickly went back inside before I said anything which could dethrone me as the Queen of Self-Sacrifice.
My weekend with the girls was everything I'd expected. Thinking that I'd be alone with them, I'd promised them an afternoon of cupcake making and decorating. But when we unexpectedly received visitors (including their little cousins) I spent the afternoon in the kitchen preparing supper. Every few minutes either Tharaa (10) or Nuha (7) would whisper in my ear that I was breaking my promise to them. Although they were having a blast playing with their cousins, they also wanted me to ignore the parents and spend the afternoon with them as promised.
I was on egg-shells with Aisha all the time. My attempts at hiding her dad and brother's departure were thwarted when an over-excited Shakeel ran back into the house to throw his arms around my neck and to give each of his sisters a very dramatic goodbye kiss-and-hug. Since she was unable to verbalise her confusion, she spent the day grumpily clinging to me and throwing the odd tantrum.
She ended up going to bed at 1:45 on Sunday morning.
My mum, niece and unmarried brother slept over. The following morning mum-in-law brought breakfast, enabling us to carry on our weekend tradition of breakfast with rolls, spiced beef and mustard.
While we were sitting at the table chatting, Mo and the boys walked in. Despite it being extremely hot in our neck of the woods, the weather at Millers Point had been icy. It had been so windy that they were unable to pitch the tent - in fact the wind had torn the tent and caused one of the poles of the BORROWED tent to bend. Mo spent yesterday trying to establish the cost of repairing the tent and replacing the pole (before returning the tent to its owner).
So the boys had slept in the cars, while Mo and his brother had attempted to sleep in the tiny two-sleeper. Needless to say nobody had gotten much sleep.
The boys arrived back exhausted. In addition, a few of them returned with diarrhoea. (I suspect that one of them had had the virus before embarking upon their adventure, and then kindly shared it with the rest of his buddies). While all the boys lazed about in the lounge (either playing Playstation or PSP), one of them vomited right there on the floor. Needless to say, Mo took him home immediately.
Despite their discomfort and the fact that nothing had gone according to plan, the boys had enjoyed themselves. In fact, owing to their reluctance to leave each other, two of them accompanied us to our Sunday night prayer gathering. At the end of the one and a half hour long prayer meeting, the boys looked as if they were about to collapse.
''My bum hurts!'' one of them complained (since we sit on the floor for the entire one and a half hours).
''My head hurts!'' another groaned.
''One would think you just came from playing a vicious rugby match - instead of having sat through a peaceful prayer meeting, '' I cruelly mocked.
''Try sitting through a long prayer meeting after having had less than four hours sleep the previous night,'' one of them retorted.
I laughed with glee - not at the three zombies walking toward the car with me, but at the fact that my life had returned to normal - or at least to the level of normalcy to which I was accustomed. My family had been restored. Once again, life was good.
Showing posts with label children's friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children's friends. Show all posts
Tuesday, 27 March 2012
Saturday, 21 January 2012
The day I realised that my son needs friends
Up until recently I had always been very happy that my kids enjoy playing together- not really needing anyone else with whom to play.
This doesn't mean that I did not notice how Shakeel lights up when he's around boys his own age and turns into a raving lunatic- punching, kicking, roaring and growling. It's as if he is on some kind of demented high.
It is also really annoying to see how he tries to turn his little sisters into little boys. He'd become irritated when they wanted to do anything girly, so most often they end up playing warrior/fighting/ninja games or run-from-the-roaring growling dinosaur/lion/whatever carnivore he feels like being on that day.
Although he had a best friend in Grade 4, he's pretty much been without one since that boy left for another school. Since then he's been bouncing between cliques; never really belonging to any one. I was aware that it was bothering him- he always said that when the class was asked to partner into groups of two, nobody would choose him- not because they didn't like him, but because each had his/her own special buddy.
This bothered me, but not long enough to do something about it, since he'd come home and play with his sisters quite happily. I'd convince myself that he would be okay and that it was better if he just played with his sisters, as it meant fewer negative outside influences from hormonal inquisitive pre-teen boys.
But then I read this article and was overcome with guilt and sadness. My son was being deprived of so much by not having a best friend- it was not merely a nice-to-have (as I had assumed), but a very essential part of his healthy development.
In a nutshell- according to the article research has shown boys to be as relationship-oriented as girls are. Boys too need a special friend with whom to share secrets and discuss personal issues. Close relationships, according to this article, are associated with "better emotional and physical health as well as academic engagement and achievement". In addition, "adolescents without close friendships are at risk for depression, suicide, dropping out of school, early pregnancy, drug use, and gang membership".
Fortunately two of his friends, Caleb and Sipho (who, in turn, are best friends) invited him to spend the day with them soon after I'd acquired this illuminating bit of information. As uncomfortable as it was for me- since I hate my kids spending, what I consider to be family time, away from us- I forced myself to change my mindset. I had always been focused on developing Shakeel academically to the detriment of other areas of his life.
This misguided approach of mine is most likely also the reason he handles stress so badly. His relative isolation means that he does not have anyone with whom to share his concerns, or to provide him with the perspective of a fellow 12-year old. If he'd had that, he would have realised that the world does not end if you do not obtain among the top marks in your class or if you are not chosen as class monitor.
So at this moment my son is playing outside in the plastic pool with Caleb and Sipho, who'd both spent the night last night. Even this sleepover had been the source of so much stress for Shakeel. What if they did not enjoy themselves?he'd wondered. What if they did not enjoy playing in the plastic pool, since they were accustomed to swimming in Caleb's massive 'real' pool?
But he needn't have worried. The excited shrieks and laughter were more than enough evidence of the wonderful time they were having.
The idea had been to pitch a tent and camp out in the yard, but I think none of them had actually had the guts to go through with that plan. So the tent was pitched in the living room, with Sipho choosing to sleep in there; Shakeel dragged a mattress from the room for himself, while Caleb lay sprawled on a very comfy sofa.
They spent the earlier part of the evening watching stand-up comedian Trevor Noah and then fell asleep in front of the television.
This morning they accompanied my kids to their karate classes, after which they spent the rest of the day hopping in and out of the pool. By early afternoon though they were clearly becoming worried that their time together was running out, so they asked if they could sleep over again tonight.
Despite the fact that we were attending a prayer gathering tonight (and neither of them are Muslim), they still were prepared to sit through the prayer meeting in order to be able to sleep over afterward. Since the gathering was held to mark the death of my father-in-law a year ago, it was held at my mother-in-law's place.
The two boys dutifully and respectfully sat through the prayers after which they stuffed themselves and went to play soccer in the road with my kids' cousins.
They are now done swimming and are lying in bed chatting away happily. Earlier I overheard their plans to sit with some Maths worksheets (which Shakeel is expected to do); and to choreograph a dance. It sounds as if they have a full schedule planned for tomorrow.
I am feeling so contented right now. I love how happy these friends are making my son. I am also really pleased that they seem to be having such a wonderful time and have fitted into the family so comfortably. Both boys went over to give my mother-in-law a kiss and hug before we left which I thought was rather sweet.
I hope that this year Shakeel will forge firm friendships which will provide him with the necessary support he needs- now and in the future. My hope is also that him having carefree (though not careless and irresponsible) friends will assist him to have a balanced approach to his life; and that him having friends with whom he can communicate and share his feelings and thoughts, will help him to manage his stress in a positive healthy way.
Mostly, I just want him to be happy- to create memories upon which he can look fondly in future, with the knowledge and satisfaction that his childhood had been a happy one.
This doesn't mean that I did not notice how Shakeel lights up when he's around boys his own age and turns into a raving lunatic- punching, kicking, roaring and growling. It's as if he is on some kind of demented high.
It is also really annoying to see how he tries to turn his little sisters into little boys. He'd become irritated when they wanted to do anything girly, so most often they end up playing warrior/fighting/ninja games or run-from-the-roaring growling dinosaur/lion/whatever carnivore he feels like being on that day.
Although he had a best friend in Grade 4, he's pretty much been without one since that boy left for another school. Since then he's been bouncing between cliques; never really belonging to any one. I was aware that it was bothering him- he always said that when the class was asked to partner into groups of two, nobody would choose him- not because they didn't like him, but because each had his/her own special buddy.
This bothered me, but not long enough to do something about it, since he'd come home and play with his sisters quite happily. I'd convince myself that he would be okay and that it was better if he just played with his sisters, as it meant fewer negative outside influences from hormonal inquisitive pre-teen boys.
But then I read this article and was overcome with guilt and sadness. My son was being deprived of so much by not having a best friend- it was not merely a nice-to-have (as I had assumed), but a very essential part of his healthy development.
In a nutshell- according to the article research has shown boys to be as relationship-oriented as girls are. Boys too need a special friend with whom to share secrets and discuss personal issues. Close relationships, according to this article, are associated with "better emotional and physical health as well as academic engagement and achievement". In addition, "adolescents without close friendships are at risk for depression, suicide, dropping out of school, early pregnancy, drug use, and gang membership".
Fortunately two of his friends, Caleb and Sipho (who, in turn, are best friends) invited him to spend the day with them soon after I'd acquired this illuminating bit of information. As uncomfortable as it was for me- since I hate my kids spending, what I consider to be family time, away from us- I forced myself to change my mindset. I had always been focused on developing Shakeel academically to the detriment of other areas of his life.
This misguided approach of mine is most likely also the reason he handles stress so badly. His relative isolation means that he does not have anyone with whom to share his concerns, or to provide him with the perspective of a fellow 12-year old. If he'd had that, he would have realised that the world does not end if you do not obtain among the top marks in your class or if you are not chosen as class monitor.
So at this moment my son is playing outside in the plastic pool with Caleb and Sipho, who'd both spent the night last night. Even this sleepover had been the source of so much stress for Shakeel. What if they did not enjoy themselves?he'd wondered. What if they did not enjoy playing in the plastic pool, since they were accustomed to swimming in Caleb's massive 'real' pool?
But he needn't have worried. The excited shrieks and laughter were more than enough evidence of the wonderful time they were having.
The idea had been to pitch a tent and camp out in the yard, but I think none of them had actually had the guts to go through with that plan. So the tent was pitched in the living room, with Sipho choosing to sleep in there; Shakeel dragged a mattress from the room for himself, while Caleb lay sprawled on a very comfy sofa.
They spent the earlier part of the evening watching stand-up comedian Trevor Noah and then fell asleep in front of the television.
This morning they accompanied my kids to their karate classes, after which they spent the rest of the day hopping in and out of the pool. By early afternoon though they were clearly becoming worried that their time together was running out, so they asked if they could sleep over again tonight.
Despite the fact that we were attending a prayer gathering tonight (and neither of them are Muslim), they still were prepared to sit through the prayer meeting in order to be able to sleep over afterward. Since the gathering was held to mark the death of my father-in-law a year ago, it was held at my mother-in-law's place.
The two boys dutifully and respectfully sat through the prayers after which they stuffed themselves and went to play soccer in the road with my kids' cousins.
They are now done swimming and are lying in bed chatting away happily. Earlier I overheard their plans to sit with some Maths worksheets (which Shakeel is expected to do); and to choreograph a dance. It sounds as if they have a full schedule planned for tomorrow.
I am feeling so contented right now. I love how happy these friends are making my son. I am also really pleased that they seem to be having such a wonderful time and have fitted into the family so comfortably. Both boys went over to give my mother-in-law a kiss and hug before we left which I thought was rather sweet.
I hope that this year Shakeel will forge firm friendships which will provide him with the necessary support he needs- now and in the future. My hope is also that him having carefree (though not careless and irresponsible) friends will assist him to have a balanced approach to his life; and that him having friends with whom he can communicate and share his feelings and thoughts, will help him to manage his stress in a positive healthy way.
Mostly, I just want him to be happy- to create memories upon which he can look fondly in future, with the knowledge and satisfaction that his childhood had been a happy one.
Monday, 12 December 2011
Children flee the clutches of desperate clingy mum
I awoke this morning feeling complete. Everything that had been missing for the past three days had been restored- and I was at peace.
My uncomfortable feeling started on Thursday afternoon, when Tharaa asked if she could spend Friday afternoon at her friend's house.
With the exception of Friday evenings,which we spend at Mo's sister's place,and Saturday evenings, which is spent by my mum; Mo, the kids and I usually spend all our time together outside of school and work. Whether it be at movies, picnics, going for ice-cream or just spending time at home- we are always together.
Our relative isolation is more a result of circumstance than choice. We do not live in a neighbourhood where I'd feel safe to let the kids ride their bicycles and go out and meet other children. Also, their school is situated in the city, so school friends come from all over as a result of their parents working in the city. Their exposure to their school friends outside school, therefore necessarily results only from organised play dates. These do not take place very often.
To date, this situation has not really been a problem. Generally the company of their siblings has sufficed and they have never really needed other children during the school holidays (although they adore spending time with their cousins twice a week).
This situation suits me well too, as I get to have them around all the time. It is especially beneficial to me, since the older two are there to keep the younger two occupied.
So this weekend, I felt as if part of me was missing. Immediately after their school's early dismissal at 11:30 am on Friday morning, Tharaa went to her friend's house for the whole afternoon. Shakeel, Nuha and Aisha spent the afternoon at home with me and although I spent the afternoon playing, chatting and arguing with them, I couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that something was missing. I knew that I was being completely unreasonable- spending a few hours away from home is completely normal, I knew; but I selfishly wanted her home with us.
It turned out that I was not the only one who felt her absence. At dinner, Nuha and Aisha couldn't stop talking about their sister, trying to guess what she'd be doing if she had been there.
My happiness at having her back home was short-lived, because I knew that Shakeel had been invited to spend the weekend at his friend, Caleb's house. I absolutely hated the idea of him being gone for two whole days.
Our rule is that other than organised karate club/school camps or sleeping over at grandparents, we do not allow our children to attend sleepovers. To ensure that Shakeel would not miss out on a minute of the fun (and to stop his incessant begging), his amazing dad said that he would fetch Shakeel at 23:00 on Saturday night and would take him back at 07:00am the following morning.
Although Shakeel initially agreed, we knew that, come Saturday night, we would still have to deal with begging and complaints. The begging came in the form of an SMS from Caleb, which read,
"Sir, can shakeel please sleep over because we really want him to sleep (sic) and so does he. Also its a wast (sic) of time and petrol and money, so please think about it please ... Caleb"
To which Mo responded
" I appreciate your concern for my time and money, but Shakeel knows the rules. I will fetch him later tonight".
Shakeel woke his poor father up at 06:45 on Sunday morning.
"Daddy, I'm going to be late!" he complained, as his poor father tried to catch his last few minutes of sleep. Late for what? Thoughts of violence passed through my mind, as Aisha stirred and moaned in response to having her sleep disturbed. Interrupted sleep inevitably results in a unstoppable tantrum. Luckily for him she went back to sleep.
When we collected him at about 17:30 yesterday late afternoon, he could barely keep his eyes open. We headed off to our usual Sunday evening prayer meeting; where I experienced more than the usual feelings of peace and gratitude, which usually wash over me at these gatherings. I was so deeply appreciative and happy that my family was back together once more.
I know that I am probably coming across as way too clingy (and maybe a bit loony), and that I probably am. It's just that I know that our family as we know it, is bound to change at some point, as everyone starts to go his/her own way.
Is it so wrong that I want to ensure that we take advantage of every second we have with one another in the meantime, before the inevitable happens?
My uncomfortable feeling started on Thursday afternoon, when Tharaa asked if she could spend Friday afternoon at her friend's house.
With the exception of Friday evenings,which we spend at Mo's sister's place,and Saturday evenings, which is spent by my mum; Mo, the kids and I usually spend all our time together outside of school and work. Whether it be at movies, picnics, going for ice-cream or just spending time at home- we are always together.
Our relative isolation is more a result of circumstance than choice. We do not live in a neighbourhood where I'd feel safe to let the kids ride their bicycles and go out and meet other children. Also, their school is situated in the city, so school friends come from all over as a result of their parents working in the city. Their exposure to their school friends outside school, therefore necessarily results only from organised play dates. These do not take place very often.
To date, this situation has not really been a problem. Generally the company of their siblings has sufficed and they have never really needed other children during the school holidays (although they adore spending time with their cousins twice a week).
This situation suits me well too, as I get to have them around all the time. It is especially beneficial to me, since the older two are there to keep the younger two occupied.
So this weekend, I felt as if part of me was missing. Immediately after their school's early dismissal at 11:30 am on Friday morning, Tharaa went to her friend's house for the whole afternoon. Shakeel, Nuha and Aisha spent the afternoon at home with me and although I spent the afternoon playing, chatting and arguing with them, I couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that something was missing. I knew that I was being completely unreasonable- spending a few hours away from home is completely normal, I knew; but I selfishly wanted her home with us.
It turned out that I was not the only one who felt her absence. At dinner, Nuha and Aisha couldn't stop talking about their sister, trying to guess what she'd be doing if she had been there.
My happiness at having her back home was short-lived, because I knew that Shakeel had been invited to spend the weekend at his friend, Caleb's house. I absolutely hated the idea of him being gone for two whole days.
Our rule is that other than organised karate club/school camps or sleeping over at grandparents, we do not allow our children to attend sleepovers. To ensure that Shakeel would not miss out on a minute of the fun (and to stop his incessant begging), his amazing dad said that he would fetch Shakeel at 23:00 on Saturday night and would take him back at 07:00am the following morning.
Although Shakeel initially agreed, we knew that, come Saturday night, we would still have to deal with begging and complaints. The begging came in the form of an SMS from Caleb, which read,
"Sir, can shakeel please sleep over because we really want him to sleep (sic) and so does he. Also its a wast (sic) of time and petrol and money, so please think about it please ... Caleb"
To which Mo responded
" I appreciate your concern for my time and money, but Shakeel knows the rules. I will fetch him later tonight".
Shakeel woke his poor father up at 06:45 on Sunday morning.
"Daddy, I'm going to be late!" he complained, as his poor father tried to catch his last few minutes of sleep. Late for what? Thoughts of violence passed through my mind, as Aisha stirred and moaned in response to having her sleep disturbed. Interrupted sleep inevitably results in a unstoppable tantrum. Luckily for him she went back to sleep.
When we collected him at about 17:30 yesterday late afternoon, he could barely keep his eyes open. We headed off to our usual Sunday evening prayer meeting; where I experienced more than the usual feelings of peace and gratitude, which usually wash over me at these gatherings. I was so deeply appreciative and happy that my family was back together once more.
I know that I am probably coming across as way too clingy (and maybe a bit loony), and that I probably am. It's just that I know that our family as we know it, is bound to change at some point, as everyone starts to go his/her own way.
Is it so wrong that I want to ensure that we take advantage of every second we have with one another in the meantime, before the inevitable happens?
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