The Weekly Review

Twice this week I’ve been asked by four-year-olds if I’m having a baby. Nice, huh? You’ve got to wonder when someone might teach them some goddam manners – including the most important rule of etiquette in the book, which is never, ever ask a woman over a certain age if she’s preggers.

I know everyone’s in a book group these days, but mine really is the best one ever. Organised, shared book reading may have fallen off the list long ago, but this is no glorified wine or mothers’ club.

A mate recently drove three hours to attend a family lunch, compelled to make the effort because her sister was also turning up after not speaking to her parents for two years.

We used to have other types of parenting methods – attachment, Dr Spock, whack and smack, and chuck them in the backyard with a Vegemite sandwich. Now we have the “juggle”. And geez, Louise, don’t we use that word a lot in the school holidays?

I was talking to a friend about what you would do if your partner wasn’t around any more – how you would cope financially, emotionally, mentally. Delicate topic, I know, but I’ve been to a few funerals lately, and it does happen.