“Move over Mum!”

“Just wait till they’re 15 and think all their friends know better than you,” my mother-in-law once said, locking eyes with me.

Or maybe it was 11, or 9, I can’t quite remember.

Whichever age it was, she was right – the signs are all there.

My oldest son’s just got home from school, and within milli-seconds of him bursting through the front door – the school bus still pulling away with a growl – he always asks: “Mummy, can M come over? And J too? We arranged it on the bus.”

It’s one of the kiddie-perks of living in a compound – his friends are literally on the doorstep, or over the wall. The furthest away is N block. “All you have to do is call J’s mummy to say it’s okay!” he’ll say, bringing me my phone, then vanishing out the door to call for M.

From my 7yo, I’m guessing this is normal behaviour, but I’m beginning to wonder if my 4yo isn’t 4 going on 11.

He has another week of holiday and, with his brother already back at school, we’re scratching around for things to do. The past three days have seen some apocalyptic weather in Dubai. Sandstorms have swept through the region, bringing lightning, rain and howling winds. If Tom Cruise had appeared in a swirl of dust to battle the storm with perfectly groomed hair, I wouldn’t have been surprised. It was wild.

"I have ways, LB, to make you have fun!"

“I have ways, LB, to make you have fun!”

But, today, it was absolutely gorgeous. The storms had cleared the air, and the rain had washed all the sand away. The temperature was a perfect 26 degrees, and I was determined we should make the most of the freshly laundered weather (with summer coming, such days are numbered).

“Let’s go to the beach LB,” I called out, while running round the house grabbing towels, sun-tan lotion, buckets, spades, etc.

He looked up at me, and with a quizzical expression enquired: “Who are we meeting?”

“No-one LB, it’s just you and me.” (thinking how nice, some one-on-one time).

I might as well have told him we were meeting the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang – he shook his head and lost interest straight away.

“Okay, LB, you can play with the iPad in the car, but NOT on the beach,” I bribed said. “Deal.”

He reluctantly came, after I promised we wouldn’t be too long. We jumped the rolling waves, I swung him round in the frothy swell until my arms nearly dislocated, and pushed him on a swing for at least 15 mins to finish my arm muscles off. I swear we had fun (and I did get to work on my tan too).

On the way home, I asked chirpily: “LB, that was good, wasn’t it?”

No answer – then, “Erm, yes,” in a small voice.

“Can D come over?”

I get the hint, I do.

Expat friends stock-take

I’ve made a new friend since getting back to Dubai. She actually popped up on my ‘friend radar’ before the summer, but busy schedules got in the way.

When I returned, our paths crossed and, one party and two playdates later, I’m pretty sure she’s a keeper – in expat terms, that is.

As we sipped on cappuccinos yesterday afternoon at the playarea, on the fringes of a group of women from Dubai Mums, we found ourselves discussing the errant, sometimes tenuous nature of expat friendships.

“In nine years, I’ve seen a lot of friends come and go,” she told me, with a look that said, “They nearly all leave in the end – the lot of them.”

I nodded. It’s what many women find here. Not nearly as much as some expat postings, where it can be so transient the children automatically assume their playmates have moved on if they’re off sick from school. But even so – despite the fact Dubai, with its non-stop sunshine, maid culture, champagne brunches and five-star resorts, is hardly a ‘hardship posting’ – there’s still a steady turnover of friends and you do have to stay on the look out for new ones.

Especially as friendships, it seems, are forged in some unexpected places when you find yourself living overseas, with children and a DH who travels. A lot.

With an influx of new families in the UAE in situ for the new school term, mums are exchanging confidences and phone numbers

Here’s how I found my inner circle (and why I love them!):

B: Lived opposite us in our first compound. Kindred spirits, we shared a fear of driving in Dubai, though really she’s an ace behind the wheel (American).

L1: Chatted while sitting next to each other at the doctor’s surgery. I was really forward and pounced on her (actually on her husband, if I’m honest, as by the time I’d plucked up courage, she’d been called in to see the doctor) and got her phone number. She moved to Dubai from Hong Kong and also has two boys, same ages (British).

K: A talented writing buddy (blogs at sandboxmoxie.com) who I knew I’d be great friends with. Just knew. Even if a year passed before we bumped into each other again (American).

M: Just happened to be sitting near each other in the park one weekend. With a high-flying, full-time job in education, she was looking for mum friends and so we swapped numbers. Now I see her most weekends (Canadian).

L2: A neighbour and another clever writing friend who also happens to be one of the funniest women on the planet, especially when drinking gin on a Friday (British).

C: Met at an ExpatWoman playgroup and bonded over Black Forest gateau in Ikea. Now lives in Abu Dhabi. Uber-stylish and owns the most fabulous shoes (British)

If you’re new in Dubai, welcome! We’re a friendly bunch, I promise!