When I was pregnant, both times around, other new mum's would say to me 'Be prepared to be asked if you have a girl or a boy, even if you have them dressed head to toe in blue / pink'. And certainly after the birth of my first baby boy, despite being head to toe in blue with a blue blanket with a blue embroidered 'BOY' on it, I was still asked.
However this wasn't the case with my second little man. People, instead felt they were far more entitled to comment on the colour of his hair than whether he had a 'pee pee' or 'noo noo'. They would look in coo, scan that beautiful little face and then say 'Ohhhh look at that hair, oh well, it's more strawberry blond isn't it.' like saying that would lessen the pain. Of what?
Actually 'No' it is most certainly not 'strawberry blonde', my own hair is 'strawberry blonde'. That is blond with red hints when the light hits it in a certain way, and I have always felt god damn blessed to have that hair because as far as I can see a lot of people pay a lot of money to a lot of hairdressers to make it look like that!
No thank you people, my little man does not have 'strawberry blonde' hair, he has GINGER hair. G.I.N.G.E.R say it loud and proud! Red or Orange, whichever term you prefer to describe Ginger hair is what my little guy has got and it's gorgeous. It's vibrancy matches that of his personality, it's 'typical' trait of 'firey temper' matches him to a tee, it's playfulness look matches him down to the ground. He was born to be a red head, a ... Ginger.
I don't feel the need to 'whisper', the word 'Ginger' when talking about my little boy, like it is something I am ashamed of. I don't feel the need to tell everyone he is ginger when I am talking about him like it is something that needs drawing attention to because it's special. It's his hair colour, it won't map out whether he will be a success in life or decide how happy he will make himself as an adult.
The reaction I have liked the most (actually caused true mortification to my friend, Mrs B-R, which caused no end of amusement to me) came from Mrs B-R's nan, Mrs G. She got out of the car, saw him and said 'Blimey Lyns, he's proper Ginge isn't he! Right, where are we going?' I loved that! No, recognition of hair colour and then the 'pity' look or the attempt to pretend he isn't actually ginger. I think he liked it too because later that evening he fell asleep on her, which detaching himself from me at the time was unheard of.
I want my boy to be proud of his hair colour, not subjected to reactions to ever make him think he shouldn't be. I say listen to Ed Sheeren who said goodbye to his original record company because one of the things they suggested if he wanted to make it big was to change his hair colour! BIG mistake eh!