Julie Jay: I may be a mother of boys, but I’m most definitely not a boy-mom

‘Lies! All lies! You are lying against my boys,' she protested, despite knowing full well that her boys were not alone guilty but usually carried out such crimes at the direct behest of their overbearing mother.

It will come as a surprise to nobody who has ever met an Irish mammy that Ma was of Irish descent. While boys around the world often enjoy a level of status simply by accident of birth, Irish mammies indulge their sons with a level of status that is comparable only to that enjoyed by boy kings in ancient Egypt.

TikTok has once again got me thinking about what it means to be a mother of boys, specifically in relation to the somewhat strange phenomenon of the #boymom viral video trend. If you search #boymom you will find a series of videos of a particular type of mother, most of whom are American (tut tut to those Francophiles amongst you who have just mumbled 'quelle surprise' under their breath). These #boymoms dote on their sons and revel in what they deem to be the unique nature of the boy-mum relationship.

Given that these mums are also daughters themselves, this singling out of a mother and son’s bond is made all the more problematic. Would these mothers be as adoring if their child was a girl? Of course, they would no doubt say, 'Yes', but the fact that #girlmom is yet to start trending tells its own story because, despite what we like to tell ourselves and our partners, the algorithm simply doesn’t lie.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys, but I’d like to think I’d have liked them if they were girls too. The truth is, I just wanted somebody tiny to love and be loved by me, and sex didn’t really come into my thinking while pregnant, at least not for me personally.

“Boys are more affectionate,” was one of things people said to me when I was expecting. “That’s great,” I would respond. “But I’m just waiting for the ATM here.”

In my experience, people have always been quick to share their very gendered, anecdotal experiences of boys versus girls at the slightest hint of a bump, even if that bump was just a bit of an after-lunch bloat. 

Invariably the inference was always a discriminatory one — that girls were more complex, more difficult — but much like my hard-boiled egg in the morning I always took it with a considerable pinch of salt.

I don't have a girl, so I can’t really say whether or not there is a difference in rearing either sex. I can only speak from experience when I say that being a mom of boys has so far involved a lot of Spider-Man-themed clothing and deliberate bathroom flooding, but I can’t say that wouldn’t have also been the case had we had a rambunctious cailín beag.

Recently, I discussed the #boymom phenomenon with a friend who has three small men at home, ranging from an age where they can use expletives and it sounds cute to an age where if they use expletives you’re convinced they’re picking up bad habits at their part-time job collecting glasses down at the pub.

“Do you think you would have loved them differently, had they been girls?” I asked, which will probably go down in history as the most pointless question on the planet given this woman has replaced having babies with running marathons. The marathons are her newfound obsession because, as she says herself “it’s the furthest I can physically run away from my family without anyone calling social services”.

Still, my friend kindly pondered my inane rhetorical question as we pretended not to hear the sound of glass breaking in the next room where her sons were playing.

“I can categorically say my head would be just as wrecked by three girls,” she said with a sigh, which let’s face it is gender equality in real time.

Due to my insomnia being back with a bang, I’ve been doing a lot of research trying to unpack what this boy-mom phenomenon is all about. Many armchair psychologists (and maybe some qualified ones too, who just happen to be sitting on armchairs) posit that perhaps there is an element of projection, that a son can often compensate for a husband’s failings when it comes to unwavering adoration. Others cite the way in which daughters are mirrors for mothers, forcing them to confront themselves in a way that women never have to do with boys.

Whatever the reason, I know I would probably be making the same mistakes with mini-Julies as I am with mini-Freds. With my husband away at work for the last three nights, I am singing Mary Black’s rendition of Ron Hynes’ classic song 'Sonny' to the boys on the daily. I have made some clever and meaningful lyric alterations in Daddy's absence. It was only earlier on this evening when belting out: “your Daddy’s a comic, never comes home,” that it hit me — this song truly is a boy-mom anthem.

All folk tunes sung by iconic Irish singers considered, maybe the Americans aren’t the nation most guilty of boy-momming after all because no more than such wonderful exports as gerrymandering and burnt beer, the Irish kind of invented it. Still and all, I’m fairly sure the only thing unique about being a boy-mom is that it really isn’t unique at all. The campaign to get #girlmom trending starts here.