That bad word, “homemaker”

I’ve instinctively struggled with the idea of gendered roles in marriage since we got engaged two years and two months ago. I’d like to think I’m closer to settling the matter in my mind by now but every time I turn a corner I find myself pausing, uncertain of where to go.

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Five things to do before the baby comes

At thirty-three weeks pregnant, the countdown has begun. Laurence asked me yesterday if we’re in the third trimester yet. I pray he was joking. At any rate, I’m determined to make the most of these next seven (or five or nine or God alone knows how many) weeks.

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No doula this time – I’ll just have my mum

When Laurence asked, “What’s a doula?” it finally occurred to me that it might not be the greatest idea for us to do this on our own. Perhaps we could use a little extra support.

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Nominate me for a MAD blog award

I started this blog back in November with a post about what I should call my fetus. It was strange time.

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Mother-to-be on a Mother’s Day

I’ve found myself visualising my mother-in-law as a younger woman holding Laurence as a babe in arms.

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A BabyBash not a baby shower

If he and his mates would be there, baby food tasting and nappy folding competitions were not going to work.

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Kittens, coughing and something like helplessness

I often joke that Laurence is the real grownup in this marriage and that I’m still working out this adult thing. I may have the book sense but he’s got the infinitely more valuable practicality. But every now and then I realise just how much I depend on him, and it’s not something I’m altogether comfortable with.

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