That sinking feeling at bedtime

My sons are absolutely obsessed with the Titanic. It started after DH told them the story at bedtime, and has grown out of all proportions so that they now want a story about a different sinking ship every night.

Yesterday evening, when I got in from work, they were both sprawled on the sofa, watching the Titanic movie again.

“Mumm-eeee,” they squealed, immediately bouncing into action to kick off the most frenetic two hours of my day.

Not the part little boys want to see

We fast-forwarded the ‘kissing bits’ and got to the part where the boat hits the iceberg and the seawater comes rushing in, which always grips them until they’re wide-eyed – their pupils dilated – with an emotion I can’t quite define.

And that’s when the torrent of questions started.

“Mummy, how many doors did the Titanic have? What was it made of? Wasn’t it stronger than the iceberg? What happened to the iceberg? How many rats were on board?”

“I know Mummy, let’s make an iceberg!” [requiring ice, water, a plastic bottle, pens and paper].

I love getting home from work, but I must admit, after my commute and long day, my head feels like it might actually burst if I’m asked one more question I can’t answer, or I’m thrust into a Blue Peter-style project that simply can’t wait until tomorrow.

Upstairs, I finally managed to chase them into bed, only to be met with a barrage of demands that I stay with them until they’re asleep.

“Mummy, don’t go,” whimpered a by-now alarmed BB, coming down from his watery special effects-induced adrenalin high and entering over-tired territory.

“I’m scared the house is going to sink…”

Cue another 25 minutes of cuddles and reassurances that we’re not at sea.

Next time, they’re watching the romantic bits instead – even if it means listening to that Celine Dion song.

Overheard after flying (with kids)

Last week I was listening in on my two sons and LB’s best friend D, the cutest boy with the most beautiful white-blonde curls.

“Just look at those gorgeous curls,” I always say to his mother, as though she hasn’t noticed!

D’s dad is also a pilot and D had just returned from a trip home to see family in South Africa. We’d just got back from visiting my in-laws in Lebanon and LB and D were over the moon to see each other again.

In between discussing D’s new pirate ship, the three boys started talking about their trip. Obviously, being expat children, seeing family involves an airplane ride and it made me smile how small boys, who know no other way, view the mode of transport that takes them *home*.

BB: “I just got back from Leb-alon.”

LB: “And meeee!”

BB: “What country did you go to D?”

D: “Af-rika!”

BB: “Is that a long way?”

D: “Yes. But my daddy’s airplane went fast! Like this….whoooooosh”, pretending his fingers were an airplane and whizzing them through the air.

LB: “Whooooosh,” for effect.

BB: “But my daddy’s airplane went faster than yours,” his hand turning into a blur of motion as he illustrated high speed.

D: “No, it didn’t! My daddy’s airplane went super-fast!”

Followed by a detailed explanation from BB of the games he played on the in-flight entertainment system.

It’s a funny ole’ lifestyle sometimes, but never seems to phase little boys.

With a ‘need for speed’ already ingrained, heaven help us when they’re 16!

Wishing all my American mom friends a very happy Mother’s Day next weekend!

Will you marry me?

Marriage is on the six-year-old’s mind at the moment. To start with, he’s wondering if the school bus driver and bus nanny are married.

He imagines their marital home is right next to the school (similar to his notion that all the teachers live at school, upstairs) and thinks the bus driver takes Shabhina on ‘date nights’ by bus.

The memories: Before two kids, two cats and two international moves


At bedtime tonight, this led to enquiries about why people get married.

“Why did you marry Daddy?” he asked.

“Because I love him,” I replied, catapulted back to our wedding day eight years ago and wondering if this conversation could possibly sow the seeds for a lasting marriage when BB grows up.

“But why did Daddy marry you?”

“Well,” I responded, slightly taken aback by his enquiring tone and setting the book we were reading down, ” he loves me too.”

“Mummee, D’you know who I’m going to marry?” he asked, coming closer to whisper a secret in my ear and looking pretty pleased with his catch.

“I”m going to marry the toilet!” – followed by howls of triumphant laughter.

Small boys and their toilet talk, honestly. I had NO idea!