Do not call Kate Middleton a yummy mummy

WHAT matters is the way we love our children and help them grow into citizens of the world, not how attractive we look or how quickly we ‘bounce back’, writes Kylie Lang.

AT last, Kate Middleton and I have something in common.

No, I’ve not struck gold and married a prince, though I have kissed a lot of frogs.

The Duchess of Cambridge and I have given birth on exactly the same day.

OK, so there are 18 years separating us, but who’s counting? Certainly not this mother of a new adult, because who needs to age oneself? Time does that well enough on its own.

Beautiful Kate, looking impossibly lovely hours after giving birth to her third munchkin, is definitely a yummy mummy, possibly the yummiest of all mummies right now.

Good for her, and her team of stylists!

When I emerged from hospital back in the Year of the Dragon, I looked like I’d been trampled by one, a veritable train wreck of a woman who just wanted to sleep for a thousand years.

A yummy mummy I was not.

I’ve often wondered about this term.

I suppose it is fine for people who are deemed worthy of yummy status, either because they are genetically blessed beyond all belief or because they can afford personal trainers, designer clothes, $500 haircuts, and they eat lots of lettuce.

But what about all the other mothers out there?

Are they, then, yukky mummies, or women undeserving of any descriptor whatsoever because, by virtue of having offspring, they have become invisible to admiring eyes?

When I emerged from hospital ... A yummy mummy I was not. (Pic: James Whatling)

I was called a yummy mummy once, but it was by a bloke at a corporate lunch who’d had a skinful, so perhaps I wasn’t so delicious after all.

And that’s OK, because frankly, it’s a patronising term. It reduces mothers to the sum of their physical attributes. Like that’s a new thing.

In this day and age, though, why categorise women as being a certain this or that?

The term yummy mummy was coined around the time that my son was born, in 2000. This is purely coincidental, I can assure you.

Liz Hurley and Victoria ‘too posh to push’ Beckham are said to have been responsible, with their incredible return to flat tummies two minutes after giving birth.

Somehow, having children managed to make them even more gorgeous, more desirable and lifted their sex symbol status higher than their impossibly perky boobs.

Who could compete with that? Certainly not the majority of mothers who, if they were ever able to get some sleep, could only dream of having an army of hired help.

All this comparison nonsense is counter-productive.

Psychologist Susie Orbach blames the yummy mummy concept for creating insecurities in women.

Orbach says motherhood should be an empowering time but instead it has been “totally subverted”.

The “ugly underbelly” of the celebrity yummy mummy cult, she says, leaves women feeling inadequate about their bodies at a stressful time when they are adjusting to a new role in life.

A recent survey of 1300 mothers by the internet site Mumsnet found three-quarters of women were dissatisfied with their appearance. One mum described herself as “saggy, baggy and without the energy to do anything about it” while another called the changes to her body after giving birth “disgusting”.

Half of the women said they’d consider cosmetic surgery if they could afford it.

The Duchess and Duke of Cambridge outside of the Lindo Wing following the birth of their second child, Princess Charlotte. (Pic: Leon Neal)

As damaging to self-esteem as the yummy mummy construct can be, it hasn’t stopped opportunists trying to milk it.

There are yummy mummy fitness clubs, a confectionary shop (go figure), and last year a reality TV show that followed four wealthy, expectant mums as they pranced and preened.

The series was a flop, partly because very few people could relate to it.

Motherhood is hard enough without extra pressure to look a certain way.

Most mothers I know are trying to do the best for their kids, first and foremost, and being glamorous is about as high a priority as descaling the kettle.

We all like to look nice, but to achieve yummy status, well, that’s a whole other level, and it’s irrelevant in the big picture.

What does matter is the way we love our children and help them grow into citizens of the world — caring, thinking, motivated young people who want to make a difference.

When my only child turned 18 on Tuesday, many friends told me how well I’d done in raising him.

Honestly, it was a tough road at times, but he has turned out OK, actually, better than OK.

But the hours and dollars spent will not counter the wrinkles and grey hairs acquired, and so be it.

I don’t need to be a yummy mummy, just a mummy who did the best she could with the resources at hand.

And you know, although the Duchess of Cambridge and I are from different worlds, I’d like to think she feels exactly the same way.

Kylie Lang is an associate editor of The Courier-Mail.

Originally published as Do not call Kate Middleton a yummy mummy