Of superheroes and fairy princesses

Yesterday was day 1 of the month long holiday (not counting the past weekend). Much to my surprise, the day progressed rather pleasantly.


This undoubtedly had much to do with the fact that two of their cousins, Zarina (6) and Amaara (4) had come to spend the day. The two darlings had arrived, dressed as fairy princesses, which pretty much set the tone for the morning.

My daughters love dressing up in princess dresses. The problem is that they don't distinguish between occasions which call for princess dresses (such as parties) and those that do not (like a trip to Pick 'n Pay or the butchery).

About a year ago we spent a Sunday afternoon in Canal Walk mall, doing shopping and running other errands. Nuha, as was quite usual at the time, was wearing a princess dress and tiara. A little girl looking confused, asked her mum, "Mommy, why is that girl dressed like that? Is she a princess?".

"No dear , she probably just came from a costume party, isn't that so?" the mum replied, directing the question at me.

"Yes, she did, " I lied, nodding as I tried to appear convincing and hoping that Nuha wouldn't speak up and expose my lie. I know it was silly to lie, but that response had just seemed more normal than
"No, she dresses in a princess frock, with tiara and princess jewellery whenever we leave home."

But not only do the girls enjoy dressing in costume. Shakeel, at age 12, still runs around in his Superman costume (which includes his cape); jumping from the filing cabinet onto the bed, pretending to be a superhero.

So it was perfectly natural that, once the cousins arrived in costume, my kids would throw on their slightly-worn-due-to-overuse costumes.

The morning was one of princesses, fairies and superheroes; of magical spells and gallant heroism.

Although part of the afternoon they spent playing Playstation, the bulk of their remaining time together was spent building an imaginary vehicle (a car?) using all my sofa cushions. By this time I had stopped nagging them to tidy up after themselves; and had just resigned myself to the fact that that the house would remain a pigsty until bedtime.

(Please excuse the very poor picture quality)

After the cousins had been bidden farewell, I was under the mistaken impression that my lot would calm down and perhaps just go and read or draw quietly. But I should have known better, especially when Nuha quietly slipped into the kitchen to collect three colourful plastic cups. By the time I realised that they were up to no good, not only were they soaking wet, but the washing hanging on the line was too!

But I forgave them when I heard the excited giggles- and besides they were keeping clingy Aisha (2) busy so that I could get supper done.

All in all, the first day of the holiday had not been as traumatic (for me) as I'd thought it would be.

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?

Don't grow up yet- I'm not ready !!!

Last week at the mall I noticed a mother reach out to put her arm around her son (who might have been Shakeel's age). The child's reaction was firstly one of brief panic, as he looked around to see who was looking. He then pulled away from his mother and tried to walk ahead of her. The mother reached to pull him back and this time aggravated his embarrassment by trying to kiss him.


"Stop it Mom. Not here," he groaned. I was quite amused by this interaction, until I saw the mother's face. Her expression was clearly pained and it was evident that she was feeling really hurt by her son's reaction.

Immediately I felt an empathetic bond with this woman. I would be heartbroken if it were Shakeel pushing me away.

Shakeel is 12 years old, but in many ways he is still a little boy. When had a few friends over earlier this year, I was astounded by how child-like Shakeel still was in comparison.

There was Caleb, the cute little boy, who spent most of lunch time on Mxit with his girlfriend. The confident little boy could not understand why I'd have a problem with Shakeel dating, saying it was natural- and he had no problem sharing his opinions with Shakeel's parents.

By lunch time I was reeling with shock at all the information I had gleaned from spending time around these boys. The topic of girls was high on the agenda. Oh my goodness, had I been so out of touch? Is this what my son was talking about at school? Was he interested in some girl about whom I had no knowledge?

From a distance I watched him interact within the group. He and his best friend at the time were comfortable as part of the group, without really engaging in the discussions. Instead they amused themselves with wrestling each other, each trying to shove an insect down the other's back.

Still I needed more information, so I did what any good mother would- okay, whatever any disgustingly shamefully paranoid mother, desperate to access information- would. I sat outside the room door and listened. Topics ranged from Playstation games (which is when Shakeel became very vocal) to teachers' quirks and yes, girls. I held my breath as I waited for Shakeel to add something to the conversation.

I was starting to feel weak (not breathing for extended periods can do that to one), but I needed to know what was happening in the room. Very very slowly I pushed open the door, which had been slightly ajar and peered in.

The boys were sitting on the bed having this very animated discussion. Shakeel and two friends were sitting slightly apart from them playing his beloved Playstation. I slowly retreated unnoticed and after sitting at the door for a while longer, left to report my findings to his horrified father (it turns out that he was not as pleased at my reconnaissance mission as I was).


I am pleased to report that subsequent intelligence-gathering missions undertaken over a period spanning a few months, have yielded similar results.


Shakeel is still physically under-developed compared to many other boys his age. Our family doctor, having examined him recently, estimated that he's only likely to hit puberty in about two years time.


Shakeel has expressed his love for dinosaurs since he could formulate words. Nothing has changed- just now he is in the process of preparing a very impressive Powerpoint presentation about the Age of the Dinosaurs. He is still determined to become a paleontologist. He recently challenged an authority figure who said that a pterodactyl had been a flying dinosaur. He interrupted the discussion (respectfully, he insists) to point out that a pterodactyl had in fact been a flying reptile, though commonly mistaken for a dinosaur. When I asked him if he might be mistaken (since the person had refused to accept my son's wisdom on the matter), he looked at me as if I'd just doubted whether the sun rises in the east.

Just to be certain, I googled it- he had been right. Never again will I doubt my son's knowledge of dinosaur trivia.

He is passionate about Dragonball Z and has been since he was just a little boy. It's probably the main reason he loves karate so much and his passionate and vigorous performance of his kata probably is merely an imitation of Goku as a super-saiyan.

I know I might be coming across as a mother in denial about her son growing up- desperately trying to convince herself of the fact that he is just an innocent little boy. But this is not so (okay, maybe just a bit).

I am in fact merely trying to capture what I can of the last few stages of my first-born's childhood before he hits dreaded puberty. I want to remember forever his first smile, him chasing the birds down the hill at our little place in Bo-Kaap. I want to hold onto our moments watching the Tellytubbies, his first fascination with dinosaurs, his love of animals, him growling like a lion (annoying an elderly lady into reprimanding him) and his loyalty to his little friends. I want to remember the joy he brought my late father and how he got my father to chase him through the waves at Camps Bay wearing jeans and shoes (about a week before my dad's unexpected death). And how he and my dad fed the birds at Hout Bay.

I want to remember him accepting his role as the big brother after Tharaa's birth. His first day of school when I cried more than he did. How he, at not-even-three years old comforted me the day I fell on my coccyx. His love for his granny, which made him cry for her every Saturday when we left her home. I want to remember him proudly sporting his hat, loose fitting shirt covering a tight white T-shirt, above-the-ankle length trousers and, most importantly, one glove; imitating his mommy's 'hero' Michael Jackson after MJ's death.

In recent years he has become so responsible- when I issue an instruction to all of them, he is usually the first to respond.

I don't want to lose our current relationship- how he still comes to me unexpectedly to plant a kiss on my cheek; how, for no reason at all, he throws his arms around me, giving me the biggest hugs, when walking past me at home.

His intelligence, his kindness, his morality, his sensitivity, his humour, his wit- I can go on and on about all his qualities which I so deeply admire about him, but I will never be able to capture in words how blessed I feel to be his mother.

And now I'm bawling.


My fear about him hitting puberty is that we will lose the bond we share. I am afraid that we won't communicate the way we do now- and that I won't be able to get through to him any longer. I fear losing my influence over him (even though that has already started happening) and him becoming unwilling/ unable to see reason (as is so common with teens). I dread the day the opinions of his peers become more appealing and influential to him than those of his parents.


Mostly, I dread the day I am replaced by some girl as the most important woman in his life.

I hope that once he reaches that stage of his life, he retains all those characteristics which I so deeply admire about him. I pray that he is guided by the values according to which he is being raised, especially when facing difficult choices and potentially harmful situations. I pray that despite the emotional turbulence he is likely to face as an adolescent, he is guided by common sense and rationality.

I hope that he does not shut me out of his life and includes me in this journey by being open about the changes he experiences. (Well, maybe not ALL the changes [shudder]).

But in the meantime, I shall be savouring every second I have with my kids before they are affected by the madness which comes with adolescence. Who knows- perhaps they will be more willing to share these experiences with me if I embrace the process instead of viewing it as impending doom. Thankfully, I still have some time to work on that.

Gossip and tattle tales- justifiable or not?

A few weeks ago the older three kids were having the following conversation at the dinner table.

"Today Jenna was caught copying Angie's work," one of them said "She got into such big trouble with Ms McIntyre (the principal)".

"Today Anna was being really rude to Becky," the other added. "Becky felt sad and I could see that she wanted to cry".

 "Last week Aiden and Hayley were holding hands secretly," the third one giggled, but then added more seriously, "But then later we saw Aiden smack Hayley in the face during an argument".

And then, "I heard that Marcia's dad and Dehlia's mom were seen holding hands"- which is when their dad and I stopped the conversation.

Mo, my husband is very very strict when it comes to enforcing the no-gossiping rule in our family. This role he exercises not only with the children, but with me too (embarrassingly, I do tend to slip up now and then).

His stance on gossiping is influenced by our religious beliefs firstly, as our religion treats gossiping as a major transgression, by virtue of the fact that its effects (1) harm others and (2) can have lasting consequences, for example the tarnishing of someone's reputation.

Secondly, he also tries to discourage negative and destructive communication. There is, in his opinion, no benefit to be found in discussing someone else's business or character in their absence.

Although the temptation to share an opinion on someone else's behaviour, or to pass along a juicy piece of gossip is so great, I do share his beliefs on the issue. In addition to the above-mentioned reasons, I also find it liberating to be able to interact with people of whom I have a less than favourable opinion, without having to stress about whether they've found out that I've been gossiping about them.

When passing along this lesson to the kids though, I think we face the same challenges as with establishing a rule on tattle tales. On the one hand, while this conduct is undesirable, it is sometimes the only way we as parents get a glimpse into the happenings at our kids' school.

Referring to the dinner time conversation mentioned above, I'm not sure that one can say that all the information they were sharing served absolutely no purpose other than cheap entertainment (irrespective of their intentions).

To me some of the information was valuable since it highlighted issues prevalent in the school, of which I should perhaps take heed. For example, who would have thought that there were established boyfriend-girlfriend relationships in grade 4? I find this information to be valuable as it removed the blinkers from my eyes and alerted me to the fact that these children are aware of so much more than we thought.

In addition to providing useful insight for me, I think that the discussion also highlighted to the kids the potentially negative consequences of certain behaviour, for example, Jenna ended up in the principal's office for copying.

It also provided a way to raise certain issues for discussion within a very real and practical context. We had a discussion about the impact our comments and actions can have on someone else's feelings and how we should respect other people's feelings (in relation to Becky's hurt feelings due to Anna's rudeness).

I was able to have a more serious discussion with the older two about relationships between girls and boys; and also the very pertinent topic of physical abuse within relationships.

I am in no way justifying idle gossip and am all too aware of its harmful effects . Perhaps the preferred approach would be to let the kids relate the stories without revealing the identities of the parties involved in the story (and so doing, retain the moral of the story without compromising anyone's reputation)??? Just a thought.

In addition, stories such as Marcia's dad holding hands with Dehlia's mom would not be justifiable, as it amounts to pointless gossip. How one would get the children to distinguish between the two though, I really don't know (especially since I, myself have at some point blurred the lines by justifying gossiping when there was a juicy story I absolutely had to tell Mo). 

I recently read about a philosopher who had refused to let his friend tell him a piece of gossip unless the gossip story met the criteria of the Triple Filter Test. In terms of this test,
1) the person relaying the information had to be 100 % certain as to its truth
2) the story being told had to be something good /positive about the person about whom they were talking; or
3)the information had to be useful to the person hearing it.

Whatever approach we choose to follow, I think the bottom line is that we should aim to get the kids to be mindful of what they utter about others and to bear in mind that while physical wounds might at times heal easily, the effects of reputational or emotional damage are often more lasting.

Alls well that ends well

Sadly Tharaa's plans to take a few friends to the movies and lunch as part of her belated birthday celebration, fell through yesterday.
Though initially disappointed, she quickly cheered up when we promised that we'd go as a family instead. She was such a good sport about it- I'd really expected more sulking.

So off we went to Canal Walk mall to watch Johnny English Reborn. Now I'd love to be able to say that I only appreciate sophisticated and clever Cinema Noveau-type humour, but actually I don't have very discerning taste when it comes to comedy. While I do in fact enjoy very intelligently expressed wit and subtle gentle humour or satire, I am not above roaring with laughter at some sitcom character slipping on a banana peel. Embarrassing, but true.

So I was really looking forward to watching Johnny English. Nuha (6), on the other hand complained continuously that she did not want to watch a 'big-people' movie. But it was Tharaa's day and therefore, her decision.

I was a bit concerned about how Aisha would behave in the movie. Yes, we are of those annoying parents who take our baby to the movies with us , but unlike some of those annoying parents, we don't let her disturb other moviegoers. The moment she makes a peep (which is usually three-quarter way through the movie, just as as the good guy is about to overpower the villain), Mo or I will take her out of the movie theatre. Sometimes she allows us to stand on the entrance ramp to watch the end of the movie, while she plays quietly on the floor.

But not yesterday. "No Daddy- Out! Out da door!" she ordered him. The poor man spent the next half an hour in the foyer of the movie-theatre watching his angel enjoy sliding up and down the shiny slippery tiles.

I remember a time before the kids were born when Mo and I would turn back from the movies, as there had often been nothing new left for us to watch. Now our visits to my happy place are few and far between. We are considering using a baby-sitting service, although financial constraints might be an issue. Or perhaps we can get my mum to babysit at a discounted rate- I justify my request for a discount with my assumption that she would derive some pleasure from spending time with her noisy, messy and quarrelsome grandchildren (okay, suddenly it seems unfair to ask for that discount).

This visit to the movie with friends would have been Tharaa's third little celebration of her birthday; the first was just a little party at home and the second took place at my mum's place with her cousins. 

My question as to why the first little party had not sufficed, was met with incredulous stares from both her and her brother.
"Mommy, this isn't just any birthday. This one's special- obviously". Was I missing something? She wasn't sixteen, this wasn't her 21st, nor her crown birthday. So bravely I asked, "What is special about this birthday?"

"Mommy!" (eyeroll) "This birthday is special because I turned a double-digit- obviously".

Obviously. Excuse me for being clueless.

So now I think we have finally reached the last of Tharaa's birthday celebrations of her first double-digit birthday. I'm not complaining though- I plan to savour every second I get to spend with them creating memories; and I even look forward to her week-long celebration of her second double digit birthday next year.

Soothing sensual massage

There are certain activities in which I find it very difficult to involve my husband, Mo. They include watching romantic comedies, enjoying re-runs of my favourite sitcom ever, F.R.I.E.N.D.S., washing dishes and giving me massages.

Asking him to give me a massage is by far the best way to get rid of him. His reaction includes a widening of the eyes accompanied by the soundless movement of his lips; as he formulates his excuse, which is usually something like "let me just see if I locked the car", or “I think I forgot the baby in the car”, promising to return to grant my request. He never does.

I often suffer from tension in my neck and shoulders, which is why he took it upon himself to pop in at the little Chinese massage cubicle in Canal Walk mall to make an appointment on my behalf. I refused to let him off the hook that easily.
When I complain about his reluctance to massage me, his response is, "I was thinking- you deserve a day at a luxury spa- let me rather make an appointment for you, so as to ensure that you get the best massage possible". This has never materialised.

One morning I awoke feeling particularly tense after a terrible night with baby. I decided to put my foot down. I called him at work, and said that I would not accept any further excuses- he would grant my wish when he got home and that was that.

Much to my surprised, he obliged, saying that he would grant my wish- but only if I would allow him to use a unique new-age method, the details of which he would email me.
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He got the idea from the methods used at the Ada Barak's spa in the town of Talmei Elazar in Israel where they use small snakes for places like the face for a lighter massage and bigger snakes for the deep tissue massage.

Needless to say, he managed to slither his way out of it again.

When their right to freedom of speech ends- and disrespect begins

Shakeel (12) and Tharaa (10) have in recent months become increasingly argumentative- not just with each other (which is upsetting enough for me), but with their dad and me too. 

They challenge everything I say, which leads to lengthy arguments, which often does not end well.

Recently I told the mother of one of Tharaa's friends that we had bought a certain valuable item for Tharaa. Two days later the mom and daughter popped in at our house to borrow it. I was flabbergasted- the item was rare and valuable and not something one borrowed from other people. But I gave it to them and prayed for its safe return.

By last night the item had still not been returned and we were all feeling a bit concerned.

Shakeel: "But Mommy, you were the one who told them about it. Why did you have to do that?"

Me: "Because I did not expect them to ask for it. I would never borrow something like that from someone and I can't think of anyone else who would."

Shakeel: "But it was unnecessary for you to tell them. And why did you have to agree to give it to them. You could have said no."

Me: "That would have been difficult to do without causing offence and ruining the relationship."

Shakeel: "But still, you didn't have to cause this situation. It was completely unnecessary. If you didn't tell them about it, none of this would be happening right now".

And this interaction continued a while longer, with Shakeel in attack mode and me defending myself. Since I was already feeling annoyed at myself for having started this mess, I really did not need to have to defend myself to my twelve year old son.

And then I decided not to.

"That is enough!" I said, raising my voice slightly threateningly. "I don't want to hear anything more from you. I don't have to defend myself to you. You are a child- you have no right to attack me. You are being disrespectful".

"I'm just stating the obvious. I wasn't being disrespectful," he answered.

Oh. my. word.

I thought back to how I had been raised. I would have gotten to the second "but" in that conversation, after which my ears would have been zinging from the smack I'd receive. Aah, those were the days- before children's rights were enshrined in the Constitution and children could report their parents for abuse. Just my luck not to have had the protection of that piece of legislation when I was a child, but now having to endure its consequences as a parent.

As always, that conversation did not end well. I ended up asserting my authority as the parent and meting out punishment for his disrespect. I hate having to end a disagreement by exercising my parental authority- I would really have preferred it if he had realised that he was being disrespectful and done the right thing by himself.

As much as I complain (mostly jokingly) about the way in which the new dispensation ties parents' hands when it comes to disciplining children, I am completely aware of the need for children's protection from abuse. I am aware of (and don't treat lightly) the situations where children's vulnerability is exploited by adults.

In addition, as a parent, I do not want to get my kids to toe the line by instilling fear and by being too authoritative. I would prefer to parent within a framework of open communication and mutual respect. I do not want to teach my children to fear authority, as it could result in them being incapable of standing up for themselves.

My question is, at which point in last night's interaction did Shakeel's right to freedom of speech end and disrespect begin? 

While I do believe in mutual respect, I do come from a religious and cultural background where respect for parents is tantamount. And with me, as a mother of four, having suffered through a total of three years of pregnancy, thirty hours of labour (the pain of which is immeasurable), the excruciating pain of the early days of breastfeeding, countless sleepless nights, cleaning vomit, diarrhoea etc etc etc; hell yes- I think I deserve their respect.

The problem I face, is establishing that balance between their rights and encouraging them to assert those rights, while ensuring that they remain mindful of their need to respect us.

There is much to be said for the way in which we were raised, and I'm appreciating this fact even more as I observe the crude and often vile and disrespectful way in which children and teens conduct themselves (especially toward older people).

Yet one also has to acknowledge the merits of all the measures being undertaken by Government to ensure that children's rights are not violated. I know that if I had grown up surrounded by such sensitivity to my right to dignity, I would have much fewer emotional scars than I do today.

As far as the situation with my kids is concerned, this remains an ongoing battle, which will no doubt be the cause of much grief during the December holidays when we spend all day together.

I suppose that the best I can do is to constantly remind them of the values with which we are trying to raise them, while at the same time, enable them to derive the full benefit of the rights and advantages which life in modern day South Africa allows them. Hopefully by providing them with the best of both worlds, they will grow up to be confident, self-assured individuals who are not afraid to speak their minds; but live their lives with integrity and respect for themselves and others.