John H Walton
Sublime to ridiculous
Diary of a Mad Mother-to-Be? Hello?!
I don’t think I would ever have picked it up had I not been feeling mentally overloaded from some pretty heavy duty research on the subject of inspiration – yep, sorry, I still haven’t got to the bottom of this issue yet. But I have now finished – Yeaaahhh!!! – the pile of books I’d accrued, and I’ve got a pretty daunting set of notes. I’ve also produced a fair old stash of knitting for refugees which helped me stay focused as I read. Next step is to try to make sense of this mass of material – which may or may not be coherent. Time will tell. 
Suffice to say the subject’s not as straightforward as I was led to believe in my youth.
Anyway, I really, really needed some light relief, so Laura Wolf‘s fresh and funny diary of a young woman, Amy, who’s recently taken on a rather third rate job writing high quality drivel promoting some pretty iffy minor celebrities, fitted the bill.
Amy and husband, Stephen, have been happily married for a couple of years. He’s set up a rather unstable computer business and they’re living in a very cramped flat with Amy’s sister camping on the sofa in their living room. So life isn’t exactly plain sailing.
Then Amy has a eureka moment and decides to have a baby.
Either we’re having a baby or getting a cat. And since our lease says no pets, I guess it’s a baby!
Her world is turned upside down. Even conceiving isn’t the doddle she’s been led to believe it would be – teenagers manage to do it all the time, don’t they?! Not so Amy. She turns to the pregnancy guide Baby How, Baby Now, and starts to chart everything. She’s determined to be a model mum-to-be. As a compulsive list-maker she catalogues the 63 tasks she needs to accomplish before she gives birth. Who knew you needed quite so much equipment? What’s a layette when it’s at home? And what exactly is a Kegel exercise? She acquires information and advice from assorted sources, both welcome and unsolicited, but nothing really prepares her for the reality. Who knew that sushi and aspirin would be off-limits? Who knew that certain smells – broccoli?! – would become acutely obnoxious? Since when did Joe Public feel perfectly entitled to pat pregnant bumps without even seeking permission? She compiles another list of things no one ever warned her about. It grows steadily as the months pass. Assorted colourful friends and relations flit in and out of her pregnancy sending her moods on helter skelters.
It’s fun, it’s light-hearted, it’s feel-good, and it did the trick. Equilibrium restored. I shall return to ‘inspiration’ with renewed energy and hopefully a better grace! Thank you, Laura Wolf.