The seven worst school gate blunders – that Meghan must avoid

If you’ve ever been a primary school parent, you’ll know the dispiriting panic of realising you’re running desperately late and having to leave the house in pyjamas and sunglasses, then belt it ungainly to the school gate — only to see, predictably, everyone you know. I once did the school run on two hours of sleep wearing the first thing I could find (a cocktail dress from an office party the night before) and trainers. The “walk of shame” takes on a whole new level of humiliation when you have a six-year-old with you, let me tell you. Now, imagine getting to the gate seconds before the dreaded “late slips”, hair unwashed, last night’s mascara — and you bump into a duchess. And no, I don’t mean the woman who runs the PTA summer fair like it’s the trooping of the colour — but the actual Duchess of Sussex. Shorts That’s the stark reality for the mums who will be milling around the as-yet-unknown school playground chosen by Harry and Meghan, as Archie and Lilibet prepare to start their (no doubt) private education in the UK, this September. It’ll be like Motherland, but with tiaras. Here are the tips I have (as a fellow mum of two) for Meghan if she wants to fit in — and crucially how not to make yourself a pariah, like I did. Don’t try too hard on sports day We get it, Meghan can do pretty much everything — the “non-working royal” has been an actor, reality TV star, lifestyle guru, and activist (she even dabbled in charging £1,400-a-ticket for a high-end “girls’ weekend” in Sydney) but trust me Megs: enter the mums’ race at your peril. I’ve witnessed mothers strolling “casually” to sports day dressed head-to-toe in Lycra, even running spikes — and I’ve been one of those mothers. They say admitting you’ve got a problem is the first stage of recovery, and I hereby admit that when I stood on the starting line of the mums’ race in 2022, I found myself muttering, “I will take you all down” — and meant it. I have a sneaking feeling that Meghan’s no stranger to ruthless competition. And if sports day is anathema for the (secretly) competitive, then the mums’ race brings out the worst in all of us — especially if, like me, you manage to win it, two years in a row. Which means I can never compete again, for fear of tainting my legacy. Beware the school trip Fancy taking 100 vomiting under-10s to the zoo on a coach? No? How about giving yourself a heart attack counting the six kids you’re responsible for on (and off) the Tube at one of London’s busiest train stations? It made me so hypervigilant I could now work for the Met. Forget Harry and Meg’s frustrated attempts to secure themselves a private security detail, the real danger is losing a Year 4 child in Leicester Square. And once you do make it to the destination, you then have to sit and watch a play or a slam poetry competition while 15 children fight over who gets to hold your hand. If you volunteer to be a “parent helper” you’ll only do it once — so make it a good one, Meghan. The cinema, maybe. Pick your tribe wisely The Motherland stereotypes are real: my own ex-husband messaged me to say, “I think you’re Liz” (the chaotic character played by Diane Morgan). The question is: which one is Meghan? Is she the ultra-controlling, uber-stressed Julia (Anna Maxwell Martin), struggling to juggle work and childcare; or image-obsessed, alpha mum Amanda? Amanda does get her own TV show. And Meghan has form here: she recently appeared on MasterChef: Australia; and her and Harry’s subsidiary company, Archewell Productions, has a Girl Scout documentary, Cookie Queens, currently in cinemas (though, at last look, it was being beaten at the box office by Will Braden’s CatVideoFest. Them’s the breaks, I suppose). Think carefully before you join the PTA If there was one tip I’d give more than any other, it is to think very carefully before you join the PTA. When I first became a reception mum I joined everything — and soon realised that getting 136 notifications about what colour the streamers should be for the disco was not good. I also hadn’t realised there would be regular monthly meetings with minutes, and compulsory attendance — or, that it would involve an agenda strict enough to rival the Logan Roy dynasty. Mind you, Meghan is a “power mom” — and she’s not afraid to say it. Just this month, she said being a mother was her “superpower” because mums “juggle it all”. I’ll be honest, Megs: it’s giving touches of the mum at my kid’s school who calls herself “Supermum”. Choose your leggings carefully We all know Meghan is going to look amazing in the latest lululemon or Sweaty Betties at breakfast club drop-off, but nobody needs to see it. Do they? Nobody wants to be confronted with a perfect size 6 bottom at the Friday cake sale. If you want to survive in the gladiatorial arena of the school playground, you need to look dishevelled. Carefully slapdash, like you’ve stumbled out of bed and accidentally left your (perfectly curated) bedtime mum-bun on the top of your head, where it belongs. It’s Boden and Jools Oliver, over here — not Birkins and the Kardashians. Tone it down at the summer fete I pity the other stallholders when it’s time for the school fete — how can anyone compete with Meghan’s multi-million-pound lifestyle range? The last thing the Duchess of Sussex wants is to go up against Patrick’s dad on the £1-a-bottle tombola stocked with unwanted bottles of Blossom Hill; or take on Ciaran’s mum at face-painting. Just picture it: an “As Ever” stall manned by Megs, showcasing $64 candles, wildflower honey with honeycomb, flower sprinkles, and Sussex-branded dog biscuits. Make loom band bracelets, like the rest of us, please. Avoid the school WhatsApp group My final tip to Meghan is do not join the WhatsApp group. Seriously. I know it’s tempting: you’ll probably be wanting to make friends, but resist. Or, at least, go in armed: know that at some point, someone will say something political, there will be a pile-on and before you know it, the chat will have been split in two: one, for “Info & Comms” and the other for “Opinions & Chat”. And then — if you foolishly stay in “Opinions & Chat” because it sounds spicy, you’ll find out exactly what Jonny’s mum really thinks about the elections, how Caroline’s dad feels about international affairs, and about why we should be complaining to Ofsted about the jacket potatoes at school. Avoid. Who am I kidding, if I got the chance to join the school WhatsApp group with Meghan Markle, I’d be there in a heartbeat. If only for the side chat.