Baby Bunting is to Mothers as Bunnings Warehouse is to Blokes. Heaven, if you’re passionate about that sort of thing. Absolutely emasculating / defeminating, if you’re a complete and utter noob.

I have never been so confronted by my lack of maternal instincts until Tony and I stepped into Canberra’s newly-opened branch (v. near DFO, BTW). Forget about all women being natural with babies etc. I was lost. Worst of all, the more I looked around, the more my eyes glazed over. At one point, Tony had asked what I was thinking, and I had replied rather absently that “the sound of crying babies drives me absolutely bats”.  

Not the best answer when you’re a prospective mother in a baby emporium, surrounded by infant paraphernalia and women rubbing their protruding bellies smugly.

At least Tony had more company. ALL the men in Baby Bunting looked completely in over their heads. But the women! They all looked so sure and instinctive, so much on a mission. They were all In The Zone, whereas I took one look at an electronic breast pump, pictured a farm cow, and giggled like a 12 year old.  

I’ll say this about Baby Bunting, though – extremely helpful staff and great range of baby furniture. Much better than Babies’R’Us price-wise and range-wise. As far as their treatment of new mothers were concerned, they were as obliging and friendly as can be.

No, the fault rests mostly with me, ‘m ‘fraid. Hopefully the maternity mojo kicks in when the belly is big enough to rest my plate on while we’re having our TV dinner. Until then, maybe I’ll lie low and skulk on the net for a while.

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