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I wanted a boy…

It finally happened and you have joined “the breeders” as we are often called and gotten pregnant. The first thing people ask you is, “Do you want a boy or a girl?” and my cliché response was “I honestly don’t mind as long as I have a healthy baby”. Seriously though, I can’t tell you how much I actually mean this and when my second little angel was born I was I wondered what I had done in my life to deserve two healthy babies, irrespective of their sex…… Now….. I would be lying if I said I didn’t lay awake at night feeling those little kicks wondering (secretly hoping) if it was going to be a boy. I wanted a son because I was scared to break a fragile little girl.

I grew up with boys all around me, 11 boy cousins and a brother 6 years older than me, it was my preordained destiny to be a tomboy. My mum has a framed picture of my first snow trip where I am seen wearing my brothers hand-me-down Richmond guernsey, that came to my knees, old rolled up jeans and chunky yellow gumboots. I was no fashionista, in my mums eyes, if it kept me warm and stayed up, it did the job. I wanted a son to dress up, to make up for all the cool clothes I wanted and my parents could never afford. Im sure some of you can remember those Reebok Pump runners with the basketball that you pump on the tongue, you know the ones that made you jump higher?….. Well I got some sort of home brand version of them from Payless shoes with a 2D sticker where the basketball should have been. I’d rather have gone barefoot than the shame of wearing that crap to school for my friends to tease.

People always comment on how cute and pretty a baby girl is, dressed in tutus and pompoms and ribbons in her hair, wow, I cringed just typing that. I wanted a boy that people would tell me was “cool” and what a little “dude” he was with his cool threads and fade haircut or snapback cap on as he gives them a fist pump. Having a trendy son really is a much bigger achievement than a trendy daughter because you have to really know your stuff to source trendy boys clothes. You require the same skills as that of a single male trying to spot a Greek girl/potential bride at church on a Sunday who doesn’t look like she’s participating in Movember.

In the lead up to my due date I found myself addicted to Instagram shopping, I looked up hashtags and found the coolest little Insta-celebrity boys I could and stalked them to see what they were wearing and where they had gotten it from. Before I knew it I had a collection of rompers, slouchy beanies, jegs, cardis, snap backs, moccs, pup scarfs, bando bibs and even a pair of hipster glasses. My husband had no idea I was spending $50 on a romper that had no press studs on the crotch and that our son would wear all of 5 times mainly for a photo I could upload in the hope of getting “likes”. He did however hear about it every time we got a regram. It was as though I knew I had “made it”. Sorry, my son had “made it”. #stagemum

My mum hates most of the things I dress my son in, usually an indication that I have been successful in styling him. She yells at me for buying things that have holes or are distressed saying he looks poor, clearly she didn’t get the memo that “hobo” is in. Don’t even get me started on how he comes home sometimes from her house, on the odd occasion he has needed an outfit change due to an accident and I have forgotten a back up outfit. One day I heard the dreaded words of “We went shopping today and I bought him a few things to wear around the house”. Now I’m not ungrateful, I love my mum and she really does look after my children better than she took care of me (much more generous too), but the picture she sent me of his newly purchased “ensembles” nearly impaired my vision. I feared for my son being somehow arrested by the fashion police. It involved black tracksuit pants with elastic on the waist AND… wait for it… the ankle!!!! A Fireman Sam long sleeve t-shirt and another few items along the same lines. My son was chuffed, I was not. It’s not even just that, it’s the Harry high pants look she gives him when she tucks in his 15 layers into his pants. I faked enthusiasm and said, “yeah mum they’re great. Definitely keep them at yours though for back up.”

I recently had a little girl and as much I hate to admit it, she is now me. Poor thing is in limbo between the pink gifts she received from friends and family and her brothers hand-me-downs. I have already been asked multiple times what “HIS” name is when we are out in public. Meh, it’s character building and I couldn’t deal if she ever turned into a diva. Plus all she does is poop on everything now anyway as you have seen in some of my posts. I can only promise I will work on my girl styling, but for now, and until my son gets old enough to battle me in his wardrobe selections, I will continue to enjoy my insta-obsession with boys clothes. Also, she was given so many clothes I haven’t needed to buy her anything yet. I am sorted until she is about 18 months so I have some time to get into girls clothing. Hopefully by then the fashion will have changed from dressing your child like it’s Amish. I don’t get this look that is in with bonnets and capes and I definitely don’t think I could pull it off on my little ones.

Thanks for reading, love you all. – Zoe

The Subtle Mummy