According to the internet, I’m a “boy mum”. It’s not a term I’d heard until I gave birth to a baby boy. Suddenly, I was being bombarded with videos about the nightmare in store for me. This was footage showing the kind of destructive male-toddler behaviour that Jackass stars Johnny Knoxville and Bam Margera would deem too risky. Meanwhile, their mothers were portrayed as longsuffering, harried, hard-as-nails veterans of the boy-toddler insane asylum.
My son is very physically active, but he’s also a gentle, cautious child, so this doesn’t resonate with me, or with several of the “boy mums” I know. (Meanwhile, some of the “girl mums” spend their days chasing their Tasmanian Devil-esque daughters like they’re in a Looney Tunes cartoon.) Yet it’s everywhere. Then, last week, I saw a report that found girls were playing outside less than boys, even at two years old – something that shocked the researchers, who hadn’t expected to see socialised gender roles emerging so early.
It didn’t shock me, sadly. Not when I’m regularly tearing my hair out in clothes shops trying to find something for my two-year-old son to wear that isn’t black or camouflage, like he’s a ninja, or a small soldier already primed for aggression.
“It’s not our fault, but we’ve all internalised that ‘boys-take-up-more-space’ stereotype,” Kirstie Beaven, the founder of Sonshine magazine, a publication geared towards raising boys for a more equal world, tells me.
“Girls’ clothes are made for sitting still and looking pretty, while boys’ clothes are made for activity, even in the baby or toddler sections. Parents of babies tend to underestimate girls’ gross motor skills – expecting they will be less competent than boys at crawling or climbing – and we’re all more likely to encourage our sons to take physical risks, and expect our daughters to ‘be careful’.”
Beaven says that by the time our children are two years old, we probably don’t expect our daughters to need as much outside time. “Nor are they as comfy or confident when they are outside,” she says. “If your shoes are too flimsy to climb a tree or your T-shirt is cut uncomfortably short and tight, it’s not surprising you want to go home early.”
As a 90s tomboy kid raised in dungarees, this thought breaks my heart a little. A lack of outdoor physical activity will disadvantage girls from a young age, and these gendered expectations harm boys, too, as Ruth Whippman, author of the book BoyMum, tells me.
“The flipside of the ‘boys play outside more’ phenomenon is that parents as a whole give boys less of the kind of quiet indoor-type attention that they give to girls,” she says. “Wide-scale research across countries shows that from as early as nine months, parents spend more time with girls on activities such as learning letters and numbers, singing, drawing and telling stories. Girls now outperform boys at school and researchers believe these differences in parental time inputs account for a significant portion of the difference.”
What I loved about Whippman’s book was that it beautifully conveyed the internal battle many intelligent feminist mothers found themselves having when raising boys who may be conforming to certain stereotypes.
“When my three boys were small, people used to tell me all the time [that] ‘boys are like dogs – all they need is food and exercise, and just try to wear them out’,” Whippman says. “I used to absolutely hate it, as it seemed so dehumanising. But perhaps what I hated even more was the fact that in our case it was kind of true.”
Of course, like most mothers, she initially held herself responsible.
As with many of these questions, a complex interplay between nurture and nature is involved, and it’s stupid to deny biology any kind of role. Whippman highlights how male foetuses get a shot of testosterone in the womb that has been linked in other mammals to a tendency to play more roughly, while girls may be able to sit still and focus for longer at younger ages because the areas of the brain responsible for impulse control and emotional self-regulation generally develop earlier in girls.
The point is, though, that parents often increase this divide by failing to correct their own unconscious biases and help their kids work on the areas where they could improve their skills. As Whippman puts it: “When it comes to gender, as parents, we end up turning small differences into big differences.”
Seeing how much my little boy needs me, how much touch, affection and reassurance he craves, has been one of the most educative experiences I’ve had since I became his mum. I’ve known many men whose feelings as little boys were neglected, often in contrast to the comfort and time any sisters’ emotional needs were given.
“If we don’t let boys express all parts of their personalities and emotional lives because they are just ‘wild monsters’, we are not only doing them a huge disservice, we are storing up problems in how they interact with others in later life,” says Beaven, who also says that the “boy mum” stereotype boiled her blood.
If we are to tackle the crises in violence against women and in male mental health, we need to be open about how damaging these stereotypes are for boys as well as girls. That starts with being honest with ourselves about how much we, as parents, are encouraging them. That’s why you’ll never find me identifying as a “boy mum”, no matter how much the internet wants me to.
What’s working
My son slept 11 hours straight last night. The catch? He was in bed with me. After sleeping happily in his own crib for many months, he suddenly stopped a few weeks ago, and in the interests of getting some rest, we have fully capitulated. There’s something lovely about bed-sharing, though. Sometimes in my half sleep it can feel like we are on a little boat together, safe from the rough seas around us. Then he goes into a starfish position and elbows me in the face.
What’s not
Naps. There has been no nap now for two days straight. Could this be the end? I don’t feel as if I’m ready to give up that precious me-time, also known as staring into space, in the middle of the day.
Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett is a Guardian columnist