The New Arrival

High Maintenance Mummy is 35, but doesn't mind pretending to be 38, in order to draw admiring comments on how good she looks for her age. She and banker hubby have a blissful marriage, helped only by the odd shot of botox, weekly wine deliveries and his bank balance.

They have 3 children, Ned, Bronte and Matilda, and live in a Georgian terrace in a highly desirable neighbourhood. HMM's interests include yoga, gossip with the girls and blaming everything on the au pair. Tune in monthly for her unique guide to parenting.

Coming home after the birth of our fourth child has been an experience, to say the least. Bronte and Ned are surely going to kill her with love, while Matilda is more likely to just, well, kill her.

I can’t say I blame her, since being usurped is never easy (the memory, from just a few months ago, of fellow HMM adopting yoga poses with ease while my burgeoning bump hindered my agility, still rankles) so I can just imagine how much worse things would be if I’d passed Tilly’s things on to Ava.

Fortunately, a dedicated spot of retail therapy (as beneficial to me as to poor dejected Tilly) has avoided adding that insult to the injury.

The new nursery (formerly the au pair’s room – she has now been rehoused in the room that my Mother in Law once used on her all-too-frequent and none-too-welcome visits, leaving her with no option other than to stay in a hotel or, well, not come I suppose) is looking rather prettier than it did before, thanks to the addition of some perky wall stickers.

New nursery furniture was a must – although I have to confess that I have succumbed to a touch of SCS (Subsequent Child Syndrome) – a condition to which most mothers only admit in whispers. None of the interior-designer created infant haven to which my PFB (Precious First Born) was treated – after all, not only is Ava my fourth child but there is a still an economic downturn to contend with which is going to have a tragic impact on my ability to buy a post-natal, A/W 09 wardrobe.

So John Lewis rather than Harrods has been responsible for Ava’s Moses basket and baby rocker as well as the all-important baby monitor. It may not be the uber-glamorous shopping option but it’s practical, stylish and still a million miles from Freecycle, which is what EWM was espousing the virtues of the other day.

Luxury still abounds for our most recent HMC however: think sumptuous silk baby blankets and snugly cashmere blankets, for starters.

In any case, I’ve certainly spared no expense in furnishing Ava with the best money can buy for going out to the park and café – as any HMM knows, some things simply don’t allow for compromise, recession or not and public appearance falls firmly into that category.

So Ava will be on show dressed in cosy cashmere and carried in a Bill Amberg papoose, which not only looks super stylish but also has the handy advantage of hiding my post-natal tummy until it’s back to its usual washboard glory.

I love the fact that this whisky papoose is just as suited to an HMD as an HMM so once I’m ready to flaunt my form again (give me a few weeks) darling Rupert can use it for his weekend daddying duties while my new, post-baby wardrobe can be admired, unimpeded, as I push Ava in every HMM’s pram of choice, a Bugaboo Chameleon.

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