Things They Don’t Tell You About Having A Boy

Things They Don’t Tell You About Having A Boy

Having children is both a blessing and a test of your will, but there is something to be said about having boys that makes you turn grey long before you should. I always dreamt of having both sexes and have been fortunate that I got my wish, but nobody really warned quite what to expect when that boy came along. So here’s a few words of warning from me to you about the perils of the male of the species.

Trips to A&E start early
Six months was our first visit to the hospital with Jack, but I’ve heard of little boys enjoying a blue-light escort even sooner. On our occasion he decided to throw himself out of the high chair onto the corner of our dining table. He screamed, I soothed and then placed him back in said high chair, only to turn around a few minutes later to an almighty blue egg on his forehead. I panicked, phoned my mum and then the 111 helpline, who decided due to his age he needed to go to A&E. In the end we were in there for all of ten minutes and it was a tad embarrassing as my neighbours questioned us later, but he lived to tell the tale.

They can destroy your house in minutes
It was nearly a year ago now, but I still haven’t recovered from the month Jack decided to trash our house in a strategic four-pronged attack. It began with black marker pen covering the carpet, sofa, walls and staircase – that boy went to town. And I’ll tell you now, black marker pen is a b*tch to get out of most things, but gloss in particular is a nightmare. White toothpaste and a lot of scrubbing is the only thing that has come close to fading the marks, and his doodles still haunt me every time I walk down the stairs. Next he decided to tackle the curtains, going full-on Tarzan with those bad boys, not only pulling the curtain pole down but half the wall with it. He followed on from this with a weighty marble against our 50″ plasma TV – the marble won and it was at this point I debated leaving him outside the door of our nearest orphanage. Finally he threw orange spaghetti all over our newly-cleaned beige carpet. I think by this point I was broken. Fortunately, and since we have banned all pens and ball-like objects from the house, he has calmed down, but I am constant edge with him as he runs round the house like a bull in a china shop.

Potty training a boy is an experience
Girls seem much more eager to sit on the potty and be entertained whilst they do their business, or at least mine did. My boy, not so much. He would wait about a second before he’d announce he was done and start running around the house, naked from the waist down and more often than not having an accident somewhere. And when boys have accidents it isn’t contained in one small puddle, it sprays everywhere! Once he had got the hang of it, wiping himself was a whole other journey. No matter where we were, or who was nearby, he would let the whole world know which number he’d successful completed and summon me to wipe him. Currently we’re embarking on getting him dry though the night. which involves the hubby and I tossing a coin to see who will get up at midnight to put him on the toilet, trying to ensure he doesn’t wet the bed in the middle of the night. Which leads us onto…

Yup, right from the day they are born boys are obsessed with their bits. They grab them at every opportunity and even the teeniest of tots get erections. Nobody warned me, that’s for sure, and it came as quite a shock. A disturbing one at that. Sure, it’s natural, but never did I expect I would have to hold it down whilst he pees into the toilet half-asleep at midnight.

Trousers last two wears, if you’re lucky
Jack has always been a tad on the boisterous side (see point two for evidence), but it is only recently that he seems to have discovered play fighting, and his trousers are not so happy about that fact. Nor is my bank account. He seems to go through three to four pairs of trousers a week, to the point that unless they are unwearable I refuse to bin them. Of course this now means he looks like a street urchin when I drop him at nursery, but there’s no way I can be buying this many pairs of trousers every week. Daddy accidentally put him in his best trousers for nursery the other day and they came home with a huge hole in the knee, and even at grandmas and under supervision he managed to tear an almighty gash into a pair. I despair (see what I did there).

Play fighting
As I mentioned above, my guy has recently loved play fighting (I’m blaming his dad for this encouragement), and it seems now that is all he can do. No longer will he sit nicely with his sister and drink her kindly enforced cups of air, and attempts to get him to play with his cars or Lego are often disbanded pretty quickly. Nope, now he greets his friends which a shove to the floor and an elbow-drop. He recently attended a little girl’s princess party, and every photo that came back of the party girl dressed like an angel posing with Anna and Elsa, had Jack in the background rolling in a heap.
The mother/son bond is unreal
And this one has to beat down all the cons of having boys. Your son’s love will be ferocious and unconditional. Sure there will come an age when it won’t be ‘cool’, but you will still be the one he phones to tell you of his success or looks for in a crowd when he scores that goal. So be consoled mama, whilst that boy may age you rapidly from the moment he enters the world, when he gives you one of his hugs that only boys can give, you forgive all sins.

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