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.


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!).


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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