Welcome, Kate Middleton, to Planet Baby, where you'll never get it right

Upon the arrival of her baby, whatever she does, somebody somewhere will say: 'Oh, I'd never do that, it wouldn't be safe'
baby in buggy
A common or garden buggy: the Duchess of Cambridge is likely to opt for something bigger, sturdier and coyote-proof. Photograph: Sipa Press / Rex Features

Never mind for today what you think of the line that the royal family work hard – perhaps you think, "how hard can it be, flying somewhere, watching a welcome dance performed by the welcome-children, flying home?" It will, almost certainly, be hard work to be the royal mother of a fresh royal. Orthodoxies snake the terrain like crazy paving. Even when you do the right thing, it will in many quarters be seen as the wrong thing, and it will, of course, be possible to do it in the wrong way.


Here's the thing: Kate Middleton is now the throbbing heart of Planet Baby, and whatever she does, somebody will say, "Oh, I'd never do that, it wouldn't be safe." It's not really about her, it's about their desire to prove they are the best at being cautious around babies. But realistically, she will feel as though it's about her, and so she should get a proper tank-buggy, one that can grip ice and withstand coyote attack. She should be aware of the baby boomer backlash against all buggies bigger than a modest shopping trolley. "I don't understand why mothers need prams that take up the whole pavement!" they say, indicating that modern babies are not as sturdy as 1950s babies. She should not attempt to answer.

Bounty packs

This is a pretty new controversy, a plastic bag delivered on maternity wards, containing one child benefit form plus a load of direct marketing to new mothers, trying to sell them baby feet made of clay while they are still ripped to the tits on gas and air. I boycotted mine by accident because I thought they were asking if I wanted a real Bounty, and I had just had a Kit Kat.

Kate actually could claim child benefit, being unemployed herself, with William's salary as a helicopter whatsit at £44,000. Most probably it would get taxed back at the end of the year, but she should claim it nonetheless; it's nice when you have a baby, and the government just gives you 20 quid. I remember getting my Child Trust Fund cheque and feeling like Gordon Brown genuinely cared that I'd had a baby.

Poet laureate

A celebration in verse is inevitable at a time like this. But it would be difficult, as a 21st-century poet, to commemorate a new royal baby without mentioning a few key details: the hubris of mankind; the fallacy of freedom within an ancient hierarchy; the inevitability of death. Kate will most likely think, screw you, I've just created a new messiah here, and all you can talk about is mortality. But it's actually Carol Ann Duffy I feel sorry for.

Well-wishing (an orgy of)

The royals, especially of Kate and William's generation, will be used to teeming hordes pressing love upon them, for no proper reason. Yet a side-effect of childbirth is that it shreds the outer layers of your epidermis and you're left exposed to every gust of human kindness, in a state of hyper-feeling. Good luck with that.

Joining Mumsnet

Cherie Blair sold a pair of high heels on eBay once. No one could figure out why it was such a bad look, but it was. There is something about having a handle on an internet forum that undermines the dignity of public life. Nevertheless, Kate will want to be on Mumsnet because where else do you go to talk about the painful beauty of fragility and the consistency of faeces? It's fine – she just needs a Freedom Box so she can't get tracked by the NSA and a handle which is her name + some wine (MerlotKatie; KateCan't Wait (for some wine); KateSyrah (this is a play on the song, Que Sera. Sure, if you have to say it, it doesn't work. I realise that).

Snap back into shape!

This is not a very good description of the process itself, which, for most people, is more like jellified matter re-coalescing into some kind of shape, like in Monsters v Aliens, over a period of months. Leaving that aside, luckily for Kate she is a royal, not a singer, so she won't have to do that demeaning magazine shoot, which purports to be about swimwear but is really just about stripping off so the whole world can check you over and re-certify you for public consumption as a bona fide thin person.

Contented little baby

Just as I was cracking my knuckles to go on about Gina Ford, I remembered how fake that division was, between hugger-mother (never let them go) and scheduler mother (put them down for a nap every 15 minutes). The real division is a baby who is born genuinely, deep-seatedly contented and a baby who is born with a fierce inarticulable grievance. There will, I have no doubt, be a sour-faced outpouring of opinion that Kate Middleton will have 15 nannies so will never discover what difficult means. I don't buy it. Your crying baby is still your baby. There is a buck, and she (and Wills) is where it will stop.


I always thought the eco-nappy was too difficult, so I bounced between Pampers, where the poo sprays up the back, and Huggies, where it sprays out the sides. But I wasted a lot of time worrying about landfill and what the baby would do when he grew up and all the land was full. If I had my time again I'd go eco, particularly if I had 15 nannies.


The most solid orthodoxy of the whole baby-package: everybody should breastfeed, because there is no conceivable respect in which it is not better. I was in a maternity ward the other day and under "benefits of breastfeeding" it had listed that the baby wouldn't get breast cancer. Kate, like any other woman, may find that it doesn't work out; unlike any other woman, she'll have a billion spectators plus the World Health Organisation murmuring: "leukaemia … obesity in later life" at her. Pull royal privilege, I would. "I am a member of the royal family, and I don't discuss my breasts."

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