Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Get Your Yummy On

I know what a Yummy Mummy is; it’s just that I am not one.

I doubt I would have been considered yummy after my first baby was born. I didn’t gain much weight and seemed to lose it again, but what was left behind was significantly more floppy than before. That is, except for the massive rock-hard boobs which you’d think would be a pre-requisite for being a yummy mummy, but they didn’t last long though. And everything else seemed to change shape and droop a bit.

I had started doing a bit of exercise after my first child was born, hitting the pool with some sprightly octogenarians for water aerobics. However after realising that my new baby didn’t particularly like chlorine flavoured boobs, I gave that up for some energetic channel-surfing thanks to the newly installed Foxtel.

With my second child I had put on about 20 kg though I suspect most of that was two years of morning tea rather than the pregnancy itself.  Even losing 5kg in the first trimester due to awful morning sickness didn’t make much difference, especially since I spent the second and third trimesters making up for it. By this stage I was supplementing my own meals by eating the toddler’s leftovers.

It was a longer recovery from the birth second time round, but I had a toddler and new baby to chase.  After a few months I relished the opportunity to head out to the gym in the evenings. I would feed the baby and walk out, leaving my husband with the two girls and the unenviable task of getting them into bed. I would spend an hour on the cross-trainer, watching Masterchef, chatting with a friend. Then I would come home and eat half a packet of Tim Tams.  Reward food. Winter and early sunsets soon put an end to our gym days, so I would stay home and eat the Tim Tams as soon as the kids were in bed.

By the time I realised I wanted a third child I set myself the task of losing 15kg before I fell pregnant. A new baby proved to be a really good motivator, and it meant I didn’t freak out my obstetrician with my starting weight. My end weight was a bit of a concern though, despite five months of serious morning sickness. I tried aquarobics after the sickness passed but when the octogenarians began outperforming me, I found it less humiliating just to stay home and watch reruns of Selling Houses Australia.

After stacking on another 20kg with the third pregnancy I was bummed that the baby weighed only 3.3kg, my smallest yet. That meant 17kg of morning tea ‘forever on the hips’. I find I am too exhausted for formal exercise but on the other hand I am now chasing after three kids, including ten trips to school each week, breastfeeding the baby, and doing half a dozen loads of washing a week.

Over the past five years I have felt my yummy slip away.  My beauty routine consists of brushing my hair, brushing my teeth and applying mascara. I am ashamed to admit that the priority is not necessarily in that order. My luxury is dying my hair every six weeks or so.  I dread to think what colour my natural hair colour would be by now. How many shades of grey? Fifty? Not at my place.

My yummy is certainly not in my skirts that don’t zip all the way at the waist anymore, the maternity dresses that have stayed an essential part of my every day wear, the huge granny knickers I bought for comfort during my pregnancy and which I have no intention of getting rid of.

There is no yummy in my ancient comfy cardigans, the shoulder variously decorated with [choose one] boogers/spew/breakfast/spit.

I can’t even add some yummy in the form of rings and bracelets and necklaces, as they tend to damage fragile baby skin and would eventually become chew toys anyway. High heels are out of the question and people would pay good money to NOT see me in lycra gym pants.

So where is my yummy?

It’s in the special moments with my children, the smell of my baby girl’s head, her breath when she sleeps. It’s in my two year olds lispy ‘I wuv you, Mummy’, my five year olds handwritten notes. My yummy is snuggling in bed, whispering stories at bedtime, a running tackle hug at school pick-up, a sleepy two year old crawling into my lap for a hug.

My yummy is in my arms at 2am, a contented sigh from a sleepy, feeding baby.

My yummy is all around me.

*  *  *

If you need help finding your yummy, and you live in Perth, HBF is doing a story with Today Tonight and the West Australian and are looking for mums who need help:

-          finding me time, organising your house, cooking quick healthy meals, getting fit and looking stylish.

In return for being filmed and sharing a bit of your life, they will help you with a ‘supernanny’ to assist with mealtime and organising your home, a stylist to give you a fashion refresh, a home training session with a HBF personal trainer and a hair makeover.

Fine print?

They would obviously prefer that you are a HBF member, and you have to be available for filming (multiple days and locations, including your own house) in July/August.

Contact Melanie on 0400 074 007 or email on for more information.


I’m not being paid by HBF to make this little announcement, but if it can help some Perth mums get a bit more delish in their day, then I am happy to help. Then you can come to my house and help me!


  1. The last paragraph actually brought the stinging beginning of tears to my eyes. I feel the same and oh god how I can't wait for my next baby! Unfortunately still at least 3 years away until I even consider pregnancy... But I will enjoy the thought of it for now :)

    xxx Verity (Peter's mum)

  2. I can totally sympathise with you here. Despite losing all of my baby weight, plus a few kilos more, I still look in the mirror some mornings with my badges of boogers and baby food and wonder why it's so hard to look like a yummy mummy. My only upside is that people never believe me when I tell them my age, and they all believe I'm at least ten years younger. I think it's all the laughter I get in my day with quite a large part of it coming from your blog. Thank you.


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