Mothering has got a whole lot more complicated since I became a mother in the mid-1980s. The ante seems to have been upped while I’ve been otherwise occupied and wondering vaguely if my daughter would have children, and what it would be like to be a grandmother.
I noted the rise of the Yummy Mummy, grateful that I got my mothering in before she appeared in the centre-folds of women’s magazines, baking cupcakes from quaint retro recipes, and serving herself up just like a cupcake - sweet, highly decorated and very edible. So delectable did the Yummy Mummy seem that laddish social media soon featured references to MILFs. Google MILF. It’s not nice.
When I was a young mother you were still allowed stretch marks, exhaustion and rumpled, dribble-stained clothing. If you whipped up a batch of Anzac biscuits, this was not understood to be a culinary triumph, or a piece of vintage whimsy. You weren’t expected to look fabulous while cooking or spooning mashed vegetables into a reluctant tot. It was accepted that most young mothers don’t feel glamorous or sexy, they mostly feel tired and emotionally preoccupied with their baby. I remember being too scared to look “down there” for weeks after giving birth, fearful that I’d be wearing my insides on the outside for the rest of my life. Sexy this was not.
I noted the rise of the Yummy Mummy, grateful that I got my mothering in before she appeared in the centre-folds of women’s magazines, baking cupcakes from quaint retro recipes, and serving herself up just like a cupcake - sweet, highly decorated and very edible. So delectable did the Yummy Mummy seem that laddish social media soon featured references to MILFs. Google MILF. It’s not nice.
When I was a young mother you were still allowed stretch marks, exhaustion and rumpled, dribble-stained clothing. If you whipped up a batch of Anzac biscuits, this was not understood to be a culinary triumph, or a piece of vintage whimsy. You weren’t expected to look fabulous while cooking or spooning mashed vegetables into a reluctant tot. It was accepted that most young mothers don’t feel glamorous or sexy, they mostly feel tired and emotionally preoccupied with their baby. I remember being too scared to look “down there” for weeks after giving birth, fearful that I’d be wearing my insides on the outside for the rest of my life. Sexy this was not.
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