A Member of the MOB

A friend of mine recently gave birth to her first baby, a boy. I was inordinately excited not only because it was a long-awaited child but also, I soon realised, because she’d had a boy.

“Welcome to the MOB!!” I exclaimed excitedly in an email reply to her announcement.

Mothers Of Boys. We’re a unique…um…mob. I’m sure mothers of only girls have their unique challenges too but there’s something about being the one outnumbered in the household gender stakes that makes life more interesting. (Any fathers of girl-only households reading this are welcome to write their own blog post perspective.)

It’s quite possible that my friend, down the track, may become a Mother Of Boys And Not Boys but for the time being she is a part of the club. A club in which I am a more-than-paid-up member.

A Member of the MOB

A Member of the MOB

After my first two boys were born and I was pregnant with my third child, I lost count of the number of people who asked “So, are you hoping for a girl?” It got a bit boring so I took to looking at the enquirer in horror and saying, “Oh, goodness, no! Why would I want one of those? I wouldn’t know what to do with one.” (I still don’t.)

Do I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to have a daughter? Of course. Do I ever wish one of my boys had been a girl? Never.

Besides, from listening to my girlfriends, bonding time with daughters seems to mainly involve clothes shopping. I’d rather be poked in the eye with a blunt stick (I believe it’s more painful than a sharp one). Give me a Joss Whedon movie outing with my boys any day.

In the hospital, after the birth of my third son, a cleaner told me that when my children were teenagers, I’d be glad I had boys. I held on to that promise through the years of small boys running amok in playgrounds, picking up any remotely pointed object to be used as a weapon, through the three-year-old penis obsessions and the pre-teen biffo and insults. And now, with two teenagers and one on the cusp, I can honestly say she was right. As I watch mothers of teenage girls struggle with the hormonal nastiness, psychological bullying and body image issues, the full-on early boyhood years seem worth it. Boys – my boys at least – are so much more straightforward. Well, as straightforward as parenting any teenager can be.

I can’t wait for the possibility of a cuddle with this newest member of the male race and to recall those thrice-heard words,

it's a boy



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The Good Enough Mother

I was asked earlier this week if my youngest son (aged 12) would talk about what his mum means to him at church on Sunday (Mother’s Day). Being well aware of my deficiencies as a parent, this was a decision fraught with danger.

I said yes. People who know me are aware I have difficulty with the alternative response.

On Wednesday, he got into trouble for being late to his piano lesson because he wouldn’t get off the computer.

On Thursday, I sent him to school in his school uniform, forgetting that it was Colonial Era dress-up day.

On Friday, I forgot to go to assembly and his class was performing “Everything Is Awesome”. (No, I did not do it on purpose!)

On Saturday, I was grumpy with him because his Fruit Company piece of technology (which I abhor) wouldn’t charge and he wanted it fixed. With a million and one other things I needed to get done, the last thing I wanted was to run around town trying to work out how to get it repaired.

Supervision of the task of what he was actually going to say at church was given to his father. He reported that it was like pulling teeth.

It did not bode well.

So, naturally, when he stood up in church to speak, I was nervous.

Here’s what he said:

My mum is really caring. She cares for me, my brothers and my friends when they come over to play.

She is good at cooking and makes sure we eat lots of good things and not junk food.

When I am sick, she always knows what to do and helps me get better.

She helps me with my homework and helps me to prepare and make things when I need them for school.

She supports me when I do things at school like coming to watch me do Cross Country.

She helps me to make good decisions when I buy things to make sure I don’t waste my money.

She takes me to swimming and piano and helps me when I get stuck doing practice.

She is a really good example to me because she cares for other people, particularly those less fortunate.

She is cool because she likes things like Doctor Who and other shows we watch.

She does a lot of things for other people and always says yes when they ask her.

I am lucky to have a really good mum.

Yes, yes I did cry. Just a little bit.

Maybe it’s okay to be a ‘good enough’ mum after all.

Mothers Day



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