Hey, Meghan, moms have some advice

Hey, Meghan, moms have some advice

Here’s everything you never wanted to know about becoming a mother

originally published in The Kit, October 17 2018

The world has been aflame with news of Princess Eugenie’s wedding that our very own sort-of-Canadian-because-she-lived-in-Toronto-while-she-filmed-Suits Meghan Markle is busily growing a #royalbaby. But will motherhood crack the veneer of her perfection, which at times, one fears is being secretly stage-managed by some Pygmalion-esque monster who texts Markle things like: “Now, slowly use your own hand to close the car door—the world will go mad for you, just mad”? While gestating the ginger, will the Duchess dissolve into hopeless, hot pregnant tears while watching TV shows that feature dogs who have jobs while shovelling microwave dinners into her yoga mouth like other mortals? Don’t be afraid, hungry, angry Meghan—the mothers of the world are with you. And we have some new-mom advice.

OWN PREGNANCY DRESSING

We know you love a boatneck dress, but how do you feel about boats in general? Because you’re going to feel like the size of a Monaco yacht for the last two months of your pregnancy, at least. Accept it now, and maybe check if Givenchy has any nice boatneck dresses for boats planned for spring. Alternately, invest in many pairs of leggings where the crotch mysteriously gets worn out immediately and jeans with something we never discuss called a “pregnancy panel.”

WIN BIRTH

Moms love to win birth. And while there’s a general obsession among affluent women that winning birth means valiantly doing it through their sacred stretchy birthing portals, they mostly love having better births than their sisters-in-law. You have a particularly tough case as That Other Duchess has already efficiently produced three impediments heirs to the throne so far and worn heels immediately afterwards (like, HOW?). Since you’re probably not going to win based on the sheer number of progeny alone, we recommend going for gore. Two words, girl: Home. Birth. Your un-medicated screams will peal like the bells of Westminster Abbey, and then and only then will you be sanctified as having had a Real Birth. It will be so old school—like, Queen Victoria old school—that it’s new school.

MILK IT

Okay, they say Kate breastfed her babies, but come on, where’s the proof? The world needs to know that you’re The Right Kind of Mum by ensuring you have cracked nipples, midnight visits from stern lactation consultants and much hopeless sobbing. (What happened to wet nurses, am I right? Have these people not watched Downton Abbey?!). Up the ante by casually whipping out a boob during Baby Sussex’s first royal engagement and you will be a hero for life.

BE A CLAPBACK QUEEN

From random park moms to restaurant hosts, everyone who is no one is going to feel free—nay, obliged—to offer you endless unsolicited advice about your childrearing. You’re particularly fortunate in that every aspect of your capital-M mothering will also be carefully judged and dissected on morning talk shows. But if the Queen ever gets up in your grill about your parenting choices, just turn to her and say calmly: “I saw what you let happen to poor Prince Charles when he was just a kid in Season two, episode nine of The Crown and the world still hasn’t forgiven you, but the real question is can you forgive yourself?” Boom.

CHOOSE YOUR BATTLES

It’s fortunate your babe is six relatives away from having to wear the crown all day, because if you’ve ever tried to wrestle a two-year-old into something that isn’t her filthy, pea-and-yogurt-encrusted Moana T-shirt that she’s already been wearing for three days straight, you’ll find that sitting on her while Harry slices it off with an ancient ceremonial sword is not for the faint of heart. If your baby is a boy, he’ll be expected to do that pervy British aristocrat thing where he only wears shorts and knee socks until he’s, like, 21 (okay, 8). Pants on a boy are considered hopelessly middle class, and who wants to be middle class? Ugh. But you can change all that, Duchess. You have the power. Put your toddler in pants—perhaps we can suggest something fresh selected by your baby stylist Jessica Mulroney? Minds blown, monarchy changed forever, knees no longer cold. Boom.