I’ll let you in on a little secret - I never really wanted a boy. As far as I was concerned, a little sister for my first girl was the goal when considering a second child. Who doesn’t want a sister? A best mate, relative and babysitter all rolled into one - yes please. And girls are just better, right? Look how much Posh and Becks wanted one.
As soon as I found out I was actually pregnant with my second, however, I knew on some deep level that it was a boy, and this knowledge freaked me out. After all, I was wised up on how to look after girls already, but boys? No idea. And while I remained dubious when this was confirmed via the gender scan, everyone else was thrilled, congratulating me on achieving the ‘perfect’ combination of a girl and a boy - as if I had any influence over this whatsoever. My experience was basically the opposite to journalist and Boy Mom author Ruth Whippman, who in her recent book says she received everything from sympathetic murmurs to downright pity upon revealing that her third child would be yet another boy.
Despite what outsiders might say, whatever shape your family takes ultimately ends up feeling ‘right’ for you. After those initial misgivings over whether I could ever adore a boy as much as my little girl, I’ve realised there was no need to worry. By which I mean I’m completely obsessed with him. In fact, I may even have slid over too far into #boymom fever, a condition diagnosed with the following symptoms:
Almost exclusively referring to the baby as “little man”, “my boy” and “mister”
Screeching “Oooh look he’s flirting with you” whenever the poor child so much as smiles at a woman.
Talking about how you won’t be a stereotype and buy him outfits covered in tractors and dinosaurs, but instead buying stereotypical outfits covered in lions and cars.
Speculating on what type of sport your son will be good at in two decades time, based largely on his current centile for height and weight.
Hoping he’ll be a cricket guy because it’s very chic. Praying he won’t get into rugby, BMX or anything else that might smash up his completely perfect face.
Staring at his completely perfect face as much as possible, while whispering about him being mummy’s handsome prince.
Dressing your son up in various hats and sunglasses then squealing “Ooo don’t you look cool, mister?”
Suddenly finding all boy toddlers completely charming, even though you previously thought they were no way near as cute as the girls.
Uttering the words “I can’t believe that one day he’ll be taller than me” at least once a week.
Getting served adverts for Boy Mom merch on Instagram.
Meeting up with fellow boy mums to go moony-eyed talking all about your little fellas, then taking photos of “the lads”.
Suddenly feeling different towards grown up men, because you previously thought they were some unknowable species but now you realise they were once all cute, snuggly, adorable little babies who really, really loved their mummies. And on some level, probably still are.
Laughing at all the creepy #boymoms on TikTok, and then remembering that you once jokingly referred to your son as “my boyfriend” on WhatsApp and now need to take a long, hard look at yourself.
Please tell me I’m not the only one.
Pahahaha yep it’s weird and far too Oedipus-y for my liking but it’s very real