it’s a boy! (with a teenage girl living inside)

the first time i was pregnant i confessed that i was apprehensive of having a boy. “i feel like i have the politics to raise a solid woman” i would say, “but, what do i know about making a man?”. my doubt was always countered, multiple little boy moms assuring me that raising a boy was an amazing, tender experience, and that you raise a good man just as you would raise a good woman.

it seemed as though i was the only one amongst those who knew me who wondered; most were beyond confident that my destiny included sons. “i can’t see you with a daughter” my oldest friend asserted, “you are meant to raise boys”.

as i approached my due date, i had come around and when my first son was born, i, admittedly, breathed a sigh of relief: all stereotypes and preconceived notions about gender aside, i thought that, if nothing else, by raising an ‘xy’ i would be spared the teen years with a daughter who, if anything like me, would resist and rage against any strong female figures in her life, create a tempest, just because she could, and inflict emotional pain and strife like it was a competitor sport (sorry mom).

with my second pregnancy, it was the opposite: i was scared to admit just how much i hoped for another male. ‘i’m just not cut out to raise girls’, i often thought; “what if it’s a girl?” i would say, begging my spouse, parents, and friends for reassurance that i could be mom enough.

the people in my life tried to assure me that i had it all, that any girl would be fortunate to be raised by me, that i could be more of me, or less of me, to support her to be her best.

but, i was unconvinced.  the young ones, with their pink and their pouts… i worried i would ruin her with my intolerance. the teens, with the attitude and the melodrama… i feared i would bring out the worst in her.

fortunately for me, my second son was born, our family made complete, and my role of raising boys undisturbed. i was prepared for this.

what i wasn’t prepared for was that my eldest, soon after he turned three, would begin to emulate the worst of what i had to offer my parents when i was an adolescent: oppositional and insolent complete with deep sighs, eye rolls, back talk, door slamming, and a whole host of other personality disordered behaviour.

don’t laugh, it’s no joke.

one day he was a momma lovin’, good listening, harmony seeking, and amicable little man. the next day, boom! the threenager.

dun-dun-dunnnn.

stay tuned, i’m gonna muster up some courage and break down the good, bad, and ugly for you (if my therapist thinks i’m ready!).

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One Comment to “it’s a boy! (with a teenage girl living inside)”

  1. Oh boy. It also seems my one year old has reached the `terrible twos’ early. The lesson in patience continues and keeps on stretching me.

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