There are some things only a mother can ever really know

Have you ever made the dish known in our house as “alien rat food”? The ingredients take many forms. Though broadly defined, it comprises any recipe which my children feel hasn’t met the sophisticated demands of their palates. Highly sensitised palates with a natural default setting for fish fingers, cheesy tomato pasta and beef burgers.

Of course, it’s all a bit of an, ahem, joke. And actually, these days, there’s less protest from our older three (now aged 24, 21 and 18) about alien rat food.

Having reached a stage in their lives where closing the fridge door is pointless because they are always – always – hungry, my boys are a little more circumspect if they don’t like what I make.

Yet culinary battle still rages with our youngest, now 12. With a tongue as sharp as Paul Hollywood with a hangover, she is swift to pass Damoclean judgment on anything which doesn’t pass muster.

That’s why reluctantly I have to agree with Mary Berry. She has ruffled feathers this week by suggesting she has an advantage over Delia Smith because she has children to give her feedback on her food and Delia doesn’t.

After all, when it comes to the kitchen, there’s nothing like a team of unreconstructed panellists to tell you whether your cooking is pants or not.

Not that I was comfortable with Berry specifically naming her fellow celebrity cook. Especially since Smith has previously spoken of her regret at not having a family.

But, uncomfortable as it may be to admit aloud, Berry’s remarks do nudge at a broader – some might say, brutal – truth: that being a mother does give you a unique perspective on life.

It doesn’t mean we’re any better than other women. It just makes us different. And with that comes an entirely different way of looking at and dealing with the world.

Not that motherhood should be used as a licence to behave with a sense of entitlement, as Andrea Leadsom did last year when she disastrously claimed that having children made her a better choice to be prime minister than Theresa May. (For the record, the better candidate was the one with greater political skill and judgment – and, for my money, Theresa May was a shoo-in on that score).

However, the fact is that motherhood changes behaviour, judgment and outlook. It frames our situation and colours our lot.

Only a mother really knows what it is to love unconditionally and to fight like a lioness for the things she holds most dear. Even a father would accept there is nothing more overpowering, compelling, selfless or unwavering than maternal love.

Mothers know what it is, during the course of a time-poor day, to prioritise what is most important – putting themselves way down the pecking order in the process.

From my own experience, I know that motherhood has invested me with a greater sense of empathy – and anxiety. I am unrecognisable from the woman I was before I had children.

I’m fairer, wiser and stronger. I’m more complex and chemical, both a militant and a martyr (and that’s not always a good thing).

For the truth is that when you have a life experience – any life experience – which tips your world on its head it changes you as a person.

In my case, as a mother, I couldn’t be more different. But has it made me better? Ask the ones eating the alien rat food.