The Perfect Men

I am determined to be an embarrassing mother. I have a fantasy in my head of going into the boys’ room when they are about fourteen and sixteen and explaining to them how they must be with girls and saying some unthinkable things that mothers probably shouldn’t say. But maybe if mothers DID say them, they would stay in the kids’ minds forever, and shape them into the perfect men? My boys will be big, confident and loud, because that is who their parents are, and our job is to make sure that, because of that, they don’t act like assholes. It all starts here.

It’s hard to find the balance of wanting to make them respect women and be mindful of what they say and do, but also be relaxed and have loads of fun. My fear of my sons ever making a woman feel uncomfortable with their behaviour is terrifying. When I was a teenage girl, numerous teenage boys behaved in ways that would be unacceptable now. A big reason for this is that the parameters were never laid out for them. No mother had ever said ‘sex isn’t all about you, it’s about her too.’ So, they came at us girls with their big teenage erections, tongues hanging out of their mouths and ready to penetrate whatever hole was available first. I time passing out at a party (I would have been around fifteen, we started young on Guernsey and I was always classy) and waking up to a boy’s hand in my knickers. It was so random. I had never even flirted with him, he came out of nowhere, saw a sleeping girl and tried his luck. When I woke up, I told him to go away and rolled over. He wasn’t very nice to me after that. He’s a forty-something-year-old man now, married with kids. I saw him walking down the street in Guernsey a few years ago and I think he said, ‘hi’. Does he remember that night and feel weird about it, or is that a memory that blurs into all of his teenage sexual adventures, because for him nothing actually happened? Probably. He didn’t get to have sex with me when I woke up, so that was that. But it stayed with me forever. I don’t want my boys to be bad memories that stay with women forever. The originators for stories that thirty years later they mention in books, because they realise they’ve never said it out loud and it actually really bothers them.

So, I plan to have those conversations with my sons, so they know the parameters of what is and what isn’t OK. My belief is, if they ever find themselves tempted to do the unthinkable, they will hear their mother’s voice saying, ‘Don’t you dare!’ and stop. This is a job that I think I can do, I think I can train them well. But on the other hand, I want them to be spontaneous and fun. I want them to feel safe in themselves, to enjoy sex and be giving and generous. I want them to be wonderful lovers (this is getting SO awkward), and respect women. But I also want them to be secure enough in themselves not to be trampled all over. Because, as I know myself from being one, girls can also be total assholes.

The chat I plan to have with them one day, goes something like this.

• Never try to finger a girl under a blanket in a room full of people because you think you can get away with it.
• Always wash your willy before a blow job but never tell her your mother told you to do that. In fact, never mention me during sex. Ever.
• If you are being sexual and she seems unsure, stop. If things get saucy for a second time, and she seems unsure again, ask her what she would like and encourage her to be honest with you. Tell her it only turns you on if it turns her on, so to guide you in what she would feel OK with. If she still seems unsure, just stop.
• If she’s slept with more people than you and it bothers you, that’s your problem, not hers. Don’t make her feel slutty to make you feel like more of a man. You won’t look more like a man, you’ll just look like an asshole.
• If she is ravishing you and you’re not into it, be careful how you handle that. Your insecurity in bed doesn’t mean your ego needs to make her feel bad. It’s OK for her to be into stuff that you’re not into, it’s not a reflection on you. Send her on her way with confidence and no humiliation; by doing that you will help her find someone who likes what she wants. Sexual compatibility is important. Neither of you should try to be someone that you are not in bed. Also, if she makes you feel silly or is rude about your technique, body or penis, then leave. Come home and tell Mummy, and I’ll go duff her up for you.
• Never act like what you are into is more important than what she is into. Ask her questions and listen to her answers. You can make it clear what you like, just be nice about it. If she isn’t nice about what she likes and makes you feel weird, get out of the bed.
• Don’t get frustrated with her for having period pain, just because you don’t understand it. She doesn’t owe you a hand-job that week. You can take a few days off from sex. Instead, get her a couple of Nurofen (don’t forget water), a cup of tea and a hot water bottle. Leave her alone and tell her to text you if she needs anything. Imagine being kicked in the nuts repeatedly for a few hours, then give her the level of sympathy you would require until the pain stopped. But if her period turns her into a monster three weeks a month, it’s OK to not want to stay in that relationship.
• Never laugh at her body, even if she laughs at yours. Stay strong, walk away, you can do so much better and she’s not worth it.
• Never express disgust at the smell of her poo, and always crack a window and use a loo brush after yours.
• Never tell your friends what you did in bed unless you can trust them not to spread private details about her around school. Protect women from this at all times. If you hear a rumour about someone else, tell the person who told it to you that they are a massive dick and do your best to end it there.
• And finally (as I hand them both a condom) put this in your wallet and use it before your penis goes anywhere near her vagina. If you don’t, you are likely to get a disease that will make your willy fall off, and you also might make a baby, that I am not looking after for you.

That’s it, kids, GO HAVE FUN.

(I’m going to ruin them, aren’t I?)

I wanted boys. I really think that my experience as a woman has given me what it takes to raise good men, and the challenge of it thrills me. We found out what sex Art was, but with Valentine it was a surprise. We only had a name for a boy, and I was hell-bent on it. I wanted to say ‘Valentine’ every day for the rest of my life, the thought of it made me so happy. For months we’d been trying to come up with a name if the baby was a girl. We went over and over so many, but nothing stuck. Over one dinner, I said I wanted ‘a word’. Not a name, but a word. Like, Rebel, but not Rebel. And then I yelled RISKY across the room. We loved it, we were so happy. That was it, little Risky. As we got into the cab home, Chis said, ‘That’s a dog’s name though, isn’t it?’ And I had to agree it was. Instead, I named a character Risky in my novel So Lucky, because I do still think it’s a fun name.

When Val came out of me, at home on our bed, and I saw him underneath me (I was on all fours), I said, ‘Valentine, it’s you.’ I knew it was going to be him. He was who I wanted to be in there. I was so happy I had my two guys. Just like my sister did, just like my best friend. Just like the aunty who raised me, and it all felt entirely as it should be. Art was in love with his brother from the start, and their friendship has been one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed blossoming. Especially in lockdown, knowing they have had each other was such a relief. They got on well before, but the bond they formed when they had to be there for each other to that degree, was nothing short of magical.

I think I wanted boys for a few reasons. 1) I understand men. 2) I want the next generation of men to be better. 3) I would worry less about them and 4) I love effeminate men and I wanted some of my own.

I love flamboyant men who wear pinks and florals and sit with their legs crossed (hello Chris O’Dowd). Men who don’t say ‘errr awkward’, or ‘what the hell do I know’ when issues like menstruation, childbirth or boobs come up, make me tick. Men who can talk about women’s bodies without immediately sexualising them because they don’t know how else to talk about them are my HEROES. I LOVE good men. Tough guys with big hearts. Guys who love kittens. Friends’ husbands who text you on your birthday rather than not bother just because his wife has done it. Guys who cook, who help with laundry. Men who hug men and kiss their friends on the cheek without then having to make ‘I’m not gay’ jokes. Men who do charity work. Men who attend the Women’s March because they want to make their mothers proud. I LOVE men who make women laugh but don’t get intimidated when women are funnier than them. I love men who are into sport but don’t turn into rude robot morons when it’s on. I love men with big appetites who ask you how you made something. I adore men who don’t talk over women, who listen and ask questions. I can’t get enough of men who don’t see childcare as what a mother does. I love GOOD MEN.

There are so many brilliant men in this world and I am excited to add more to the pile. I won’t put the pressure on them to be perfect people, but I’ll do my best to guide them in the right direction and hope they work it out.

There are a few things that have fascinated me in terms of typical ‘boy’ behaviour. Art’s first true love was cars. He was obsessed, taking no less than twelve to bed. His face changed shape when he saw a toy car, like it was an ice cream covered in caramel sauce. Then there were planes, fire trucks, diggers, dinosaurs and all of the other ‘typical’ boy stuff. To be fair, it’s not like I was waving Barbies under his nose, but he seemed genetically predisposed to like things with engines or wings. I do think that, no matter how we try to raise great men, boys will always be boys, and that’s just fine. As long as they don’t try to finger sleeping girls at parties then I’m here for it.

Here are the top things I’ve learned about raising boys in lockdown:

1. Don’t watch them wrestle, it’s too stressful.
2. Don’t run out of peanut butter.
3. Don’t try to answer their forty million questions about dinosaurs, because they are only asking you them so they can answer.
4. Watch where they put their feet.