This mum of 11 doesn’t give parenting advice – but there are rules she lives by

Pianist Clare Madden, 94, was 46 when she had her 11th child, small-business owner Jane Charles, 48. They’ve shared near-death experiences but no cross words, not even on matters as weighty as sponge cake.

Jane Charles with her mother, Clare Madden: “Mum always says, ‘There’s no such thing as an unattractive woman, just a lazy one.’ ”Credit: Josh Robenstone

Clare: Before I got married, the doctor asked me how many children I wanted. I said 10. He nearly fell off the couch. It turned out I had 11. I didn’t mean to, but that’s just how it worked out. I had eight girls and three boys and I lost another four. They were miscarriages and a couple were pretty dramatic. Anyway, we got through that.

The day I found out I was pregnant with Jane was one of the happiest days of my life. The doctor wanted me to get rid of my last two babies because he thought I was too old, but I didn’t. In those days, nobody had babies in their 40s. But having babies in your 40s is absolutely exceptional.

My approach as a mother is to stay warm and loving. I’m a great believer in keeping tummies full and then you don’t have an irritable child. I take the same approach with men. I’ve fed a lot of men.

Jane was a beautiful little kid, never any trouble. She had a vivid imagination. She used to imagine she was teaching school, you see. So her daddy would come in from the paddocks on our farm at Windermere [north-west of Ballarat] and she’d say, “Excuse me, but can’t you see I’m on yard duty?” Then she’d take all those invisible children into the study.

“Every morning, I put on my pearls, my lipstick and my earrings and I’m set. When I don’t wear those, get worried. I might be about to go.”

Jane was very determined to do things her way. She went to Deakin University to study law and had three jobs. Then, all of a sudden, she developed chronic fatigue syndrome. That was the only time I was worried about her. Then she married Geordie. I’ve never met a more beautiful husband. I had a beautiful husband [Gerard], too, but he was different again – from a different era. And then, after practising as a lawyer, Jane had her first baby and then the second and now she has four. She left her job to look after the children, which I admired her greatly for. She’ll get back to it but, in the meantime, she’s started her own business [based out of her historic homestead Ceres, 20 minutes north-west of Ballarat].

Jane is so kind and loving and has this uncanny knack of knowing what you’re feeling. She always made me feel confident in myself. That’s a great thing for a child to do for her mother. The mother should be doing it for the child, too, but she always made me feel loved and wanted. I can truthfully tell you that we’ve never argued about anything.

I had a lot of sadness after Gerard died [in 2013] and Jane was so supportive. She’s a great listener. She never knocks me for anything I do. Lots of mothers aren’t as happy as I am.

I don’t go clothes shopping nowadays; Jane does a lot of that. As long as I get my clothes on and hair done, I’ll be right. I’d rather have red lipstick on than a shower! Every morning, I put on my pearls, my lipstick and my earrings and I’m set for the day. When I don’t wear those, get worried. I might be about to go.

Jane: Mum’s love always came through her food. Every meal was three courses, apart from breakfast. Our school lunches were beautiful, never anything processed. Mum would sometimes have eight sponges on the kitchen table, all ready to go for something or someone.

We grew up on a farm, and on the dot of 9.30am, Mum would have sandwiches, a cake or biscuits ready for the shearers and other farm hands. At lunchtime, they came in for three courses until someone complained and said, “Sorry, Clare, I can’t bend over and do the shearing. Can you just make it two courses?”

Mum is very old-school. She says things to me like, “What have you got Geordie for lunch today?” I admit I don’t always have Geordie’s lunch prepared because I think, “Jeepers, if he can’t organise his own, there’s something wrong there.”

Everyone called Mum “Mrs Madden” and she performed as a voluntary pianist at musicals and with choirs at all the Catholic institutions in Ballarat – and some non-Catholic ones. She’s got a room named after her at a local Catholic primary school and a scholarship called the Clare Madden Award.

I remember Mum wearing these glamorous dresses with big, roll-neck collars and a beautiful gabardine coat with pearls and brooches. She always says there’s no such thing as an unattractive woman, just a lazy one. If there was a local child who’d been really naughty, Mrs Madden would often go and soften it with the parents to make sure the child didn’t get in as much trouble.

“Mum would never say, ‘Your sponge cake is awful, Jane.’ She’d say, ‘If it was in a show, it wouldn’t win.’ ”

Mum and I have a physical connection. If she’s not well, I can identify it and generally work it out. She has had many illnesses, including Meniere’s disease, which, for a while, put her in hospital every eight weeks. On one occasion, Mum stopped breathing in my hands; she was trying to be sick, but she couldn’t get her head up. Actually, twice she stopped breathing in my hands. Another time, just after Dad died, Mum became very unwell with pneumonia. The doctor said we had to prepare for her to go. And I was like, “No, she’s darn well not.” I sought another opinion and she came good.

Mum’s been very blessed in life. She could have gone a million times, but I keep saying to her, “You’ve got a purpose and that’s why you’re still here.” On terrible days, when it’s miserable, it’s easy to get down. But she’s the glue, the light source, the matriarch, not just for us, but for many who look to her for advice and inspiration.

Even after having 11 children, and all the heartache and joy that comes with that, Mum never tells me how to raise my kids. The only thing she says is, if you’ve told your children off, don’t then apologise. Mum would never say, “Your sponge cake is awful, Jane.” She’d say, “If it was in a show, it wouldn’t win.”

I’ve known since I was a little girl that I’d look after Mum and Dad. That was my job. I honestly thought I’d be orphaned by 20. And yet here I am with my fabulous 94-year-old mum. I couldn’t be more grateful.

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