Stop telling me my kids look like their dad and not me

"You haven't even met him...so I don't want to hear it."

I am lucky enough to be the mum of - in my humble opinion - two of the world’s most gorgeous boys. Like most mothers, I think my kids are absolutely perfect, and I can’t quite believe I was involved in making them. 

Which is funny, because apparently neither can anybody else. 

From the moment my first son was born, I’ve heard nothing but how much he looks like his dad.

And it’s true - from their sandy hair to their blue eyes, they’re two peas in a pod. (I also have sandy hair and blue eyes, but nobody mind me).

Want to join the family? Sign up to our Kidspot newsletter for more stories like this. 

"An attack on me"

And it’s not just their colouring - they share mannerisms, they hold themselves similarly, and my son’s hair grows out just like his dad’s, no matter how it gets cut. 

I didn’t mind hearing that they look alike - I could see it too - but it did rankle me when people take it one step further. It’s one thing for someone to remark on a similarity between my son and his dad, and another to turn it - for no apparent reason - into what feels like an attack on me. 

The first time someone said, “He looks nothing like you!”, I was honestly taken aback. Of course he looks like me - he’s my baby! I said nothing, assuming it was a once off, but the comments kept on coming. 

“Wow, you didn’t even get a look in! He’s his dad’s spitting image! I can’t see you in him at all!” 

I laughed it off, but even at the time, I hated it. 

Image: Supplied

RELATED: Like Meghan Markle, people were ‘concerned’ about my baby’s skin colour

"Exactly like his dad"

When my second son was born 21 months later, I was hoping for a reprieve. Okay, so my older child was a clone of my husband and nobody would shut up about it, but this baby would hopefully be my spitting image.

That was only fair: we would both get one mini-me, and then we could call it even.

But alas, my hopes were dashed: before our first visitors to the hospital even arrived, our family group chat was pinging back and forth with confirmation of my worst fear. “I can’t believe you got another one who looks exactly like his dad!”

To be clear, I think my husband is exceptionally handsome. I’m stoked he’s passed his genes on to our sons, although I’m not surprised, given their DNA is precisely half his. The fact that my kids look a lot like him doesn’t bother me in itself - hell, thinking we would make beautiful babies is part of the reason I married him.

Kidding! (Kind of.)

What does bother me is how much everyone else, whose genetics were not involved in the creation of my two beautiful babies, wants to tell me about it. 

RELATED: Dad’s newborn sleeping arrangement labelled ‘selfish’

Of course, in the scheme of things, friends and strangers telling me my kids don’t look like me isn’t a big deal.

When I reflect on why it bothers me so much, I think it’s because mums already get the short end of the stick so often. The parenting work which is just expected of mothers - which is, in fact, constantly picked apart and critiqued - is frequently treated as exceptional when it’s performed by a dad.

I grew my kids inside me, carried them for nine months, and continue to put them first every day in practically every way. Saying they don’t look like me somehow feels like it diminishes my role in their creation and life when actually - not to brag - I was kind of the main character there. 

Those issues are far too big to unpack with a stranger at the park, but I certainly can push back on the erasure of the part I played in their appearance. 

And next time someone asks “Are you sure they’re even yours?”, I won’t be afraid to answer with the snarky truth: I mean, I saw them both literally dragged from a hole in my stomach, so yeah, pretty sure, thanks! 

Originally published as Stop telling me my kids look like their dad and not me