Right. Hold tight readers. I’m getting on my high horse.
I never thought I’d one day write a blog in defence of Coleen Rooney! I’ve never given her much thought really. I think it’s fair to say she’s not going to be remembered as a feminist icon; for a number of reasons. Actually, that’s not kind. Perhaps behind closed doors she is in fact a raging advocate for equality... who knows. To all intents and purposes she seems to me to be a good mother, the constant in her boys’ lives while Daddy is off kicking a ball around/ allegedly drink driving/ reportedly bonking old ladies.
We’ve all got our opinions about how much she should or shouldn’t put up with from the delectable Wayne; but hey you know the drill, never judge a woman until you’ve walked a mile in her (Christian Louboutin) shoes.
Anyway, she’s always struck me as a kinda good egg. A normal, working class girl who got lucky (if you consider being married to Wayne Rooney good luck).
So I was foaming on her behalf to hear some of the ‘congratulations’ being offered to her on the birth of her fourth son Cass.
As expected, through all the saccharin sweet commentary, there was an undertone of, ‘oh she must be so disappointed bless her! Imagine, yet another healthy bouncing baby boy... ah... well you never know maybe the fifth member of the five-a-side team will be a girl!’
I’d have more respect for the journalists/presenters if they said ‘I bet she’s livid! She’ll be off to America like that Danielle Lloyd to do sex selection.’ But they don’t. It’s insidious and implied.
Worse still is that more often than not these commentators are women, some are mothers. Somehow that makes their passive aggression/jealousy/meanness even more unseemly. Haven’t women got enough to feel less than perfect about these days without being borderline dissed for not managing to pop out an equal ratio of boys to girls?
So, let’s look at this two ways:
Firstly... You know, maybe Coleen doesn’t want a girl. Maybe, like me, after boy number one or number two, or number three, even if she’d always imagined she would have a daughter; she realised that she could not possibly love this little person an ounce more if he was the proud owner of a giant vagina.
Maybe she loves the boisterous craziness followed by the fierce breath-taking cuddles. Maybe she loves the footy, the mud, the never-ending penis chat and the rough and tumble of it all. Maybe all her boys don’t even fit that stereotypical boy-mould and she’s already got one who is up for shopping trips and spa days. (As for me... Come on Ellis, you’re my last hope - the other two would be ejected from the spa for dive bombing in the jacuzzi or pissing in the plunge pool within five minutes.)
The other side of this coin, (and it’s a bloody good coin, cos either side it lands on, she gets a healthy baby let’s remember) is that yes, Coleen really does want a girl! Maybe she longs for a daughter and won’t give up until she gets one! Fair play to her if that’s the case. If she has a preference for a certain gender next time it doesn’t mean she doesn’t adore the child she got this time.
I remember one of my good friends texting me just after I’d had Ellis telling me there’d been some of these comments buzzing around the school yard; ‘Oohhh another boy! Lovely! Tell her I said congratulations... shame though... was she a bit disappointed do you think?’
My friend said, ‘I’ve got your back mate. Anyone dares say that to me I’ll take them down.’
I frigging loved her for that. If I needed that on my small scale then Coleen needs it big-style. By any measure, a woman with four gorgeous sons is #blessed innit? Let’s get a grip people shall we. Let’s concentrate on raising happy, interesting, kind human beings, whatever their gender.
Oh and Coleen; if your boys are as macho as mine and you do find you need a spa and shopping partner; I’m free anytime babes.