‘People sometimes pity me for having four sons - this is what I tell them’

“Yep, I’m a mum of four boys, and I can’t believe complete strangers feel the need to accost me on the street. All I can say is, please stop.”

“There’s a special place in heaven for mums of boys.”

“Oh God! You poor thing. I feel so sorry for you.”

“I bet you wish one of them was a girl.”

Yep, I’m a mum of four boys, and these are the kinds of comments complete strangers feel the need to accost me with on the street. 

And all I can say is, please stop.

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Ingrid doesn't want your pity because she has four sons. Picture: Supplied

Stop feeling pity for me because I have four sons

Imagine if I looked at your family and told you I felt sorry for you, or that I bet you wished one of your kids was a completely different person just because of what’s between their legs? 

These are my children. My babies. My heart and soul. I adore each and every one of them, and I honestly wouldn’t change a thing about any of them.

That being said, I love a good chat, and there are many topics you’re more than welcome to ask me about. 

My washing pile, for example, seems to be a subject of interest for strangers. And I can tell you, it’s enormous and never ending and that I am an expert on stain removal. 

Feel free to ask me how I feed four hungry boys: it’s hard, it’s expensive, and it’s impossible to keep up. Apparently we never have any good food in our house, and my shopping game is terrible. 

Our supermarket and grocery bills are eye-watering, and my little locusts can chow through a fully stocked pantry in a matter of minutes. I actually hide food in secret places in order to save it for school lunches.

Which brings me to lunchboxes, which are the bane of my existence. I literally look forward to school holidays so I don’t have to get up at 6am in order to pack four different lunches for four very different children with very different likes and dislikes.

You can ask me about sport if you like, but why would you? 

It’s honestly the most boring topic in the world. It’s actually ironic that I, the most un-sporty woman to walk this earth, ended up with four boys at a school where sport is compulsory. 

The sound of flesh-on-flesh as one of my kids is tackled in rugby sets my teeth on edge. I still, to this day, do not know what off-side is, and I don’t think I ever will.

I am not that parent who yells on the sidelines because I literally have no advice to yell. 

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Sure, having four sons can be hard, but Ingrid wouldn't change it for anything. Picture: Supplied

“Don’t ever say you feel sorry for me”

We were recently on holiday in Hawaii, buying shaved ice from a roadside stand, when someone grabbed my arm. 

I turned around to find myself face-to-face with a bubbly blonde lady who asked, “Excuse me, are all these boys yours?” 

I smiled and nodded politely as I always do, bracing myself for the barrage of judgemental comments that was sure to follow. 

But instead, she smiled widely and cried, “You are SO lucky, look how gorgeous they are! I’m so jealous, I’d love more boys.” (She had two daughters and one son).  

She then started with a list of curious questions and we ended up chatting for ages. 

Because she saw our family for what is it. I’m blessed to have a big, noisy, smelly, hungry, messy family full of love and chaos. 

So don’t ever say you feel sorry for me. 

On that note, I have to admit I am very popular with mothers and grandmothers from cultures that revere sons. 

They’re the ones who tell me how lucky I am and ask me for my secret.

Sure, my kids fight like hell and there have been times I’ve considered having a UFC ring installed in our home, but at the end of the day, they look out for one another, and they always have someone to play with… and someone to defend them to the death.

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"Don't you ever say you feel sorry for me." Picture: Supplied

“Would you have another baby if it was guaranteed to be a girl?”

The other day, I was asked, “Would you have another baby if it was guaranteed it would be a girl?” 

All I can say to that is that there are no guarantees in life, and if I were to have another baby now at my age, it would probably be twins. Both of them boys. 

Because my husband and I don’t have the recipe for pink.

Have I experienced a smidge of gender disappointment in the past? 

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t. 

I’m incredibly close to my mum and had grand plans of having the same relationship with my daughter. 

I’ll never plan a wedding. I’ll never go clothes shopping with my daughter. I won’t be in the room when my grandchildren are born. 

But that’s life, right? It is what it is, and look how much I do have.

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Ingrid's four boys are her whole life. Picture: Supplied

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I actually have four beautiful goddaughters, and when it comes to buying presents for them, I’m always running to their mums for advice because I have no idea what girls these days are into. 

Back in my day, it would have been a subscription to Dolly magazine and a voucher for Portman’s or Sportsgirl or HMV Music. 

But times have apparently changed and I am out of touch! So yeah, I don’t know girls.

But I have a freaking PhD in boys. Even our dog is male.

Many years ago, a girlfriend of mine was going to go to Thailand for gender selection.

She was a mum of girls, and she and her husband were desperate for a boy. I’d just had my third son, and she asked if we’d ever considered medical intervention. 

I remember mentioning it to my obstetrician at the time, and his response will stick with me always. He said that every single one of his patients who’ve gone overseas for gender selection IVF, have regretted it. 

Because the pressure on that little child to be the ultimate boy, or the ultimate girl, is just crushing. 

What if you have a girl and she’s not into pretty dresses and tea parties and ballet? 

What if you have a boy and he’s not into sports and trucks and fart jokes?

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"I love my lot in life and am disgustingly happy." Picture: Supplied

“Please don’t ask me if I’d like to change my children”

One thing I’ve learnt as a mum, is that your kids are who they are when they’re born, and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it. 

Each of my boys is so unique, with their own special little personality and likes and dislikes. They fill my heart with joy and they make me laugh every day. 

Sure, I’m surrounded by male blindness and spend my life finding things for people, but I literally wouldn’t swap any of them for all the girls in the world. 

Because they are fully formed human beings. They are not their gender.  Each is their own person.

My oldest is a six-foot-two painfully shy gym-junkie jock, my second is a sensitive surfer with an old soul, my third is a big-hearted gentle giant, and my baby is a bossy, barky, life-loving charmer. 

They are all gorgeous, they are all loving, and they are all tied for first place as my favourite child. 

I love my lot in life and am disgustingly happy.

So please don’t ask me if I’d like to change my children. They are my life, and I don’t know any different. 

Maybe there is a special place in heaven for mums of boys, but I don’t believe in heaven or hell.

I do believe in the afterlife, and if there’s a special place there for me, I hope that place is with them.

Originally published as ‘People sometimes pity me for having four sons - this is what I tell them’