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Sad Mum Lady
Unapologetic and frank, Sad Mum Lady navigates the joys of motherhood in ways that will be familiar, hilarious and essential reading for parents and non-parents alike. Savage, true and deeply relatable - finally, a book that resists the sanitised, acceptable face of parenting. You might not feel better, but at least you'll feel less alone.
Mass Market Paperback
Published March 1, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews
September 22, 2021
‘Sad Mum Lady’ was the humour non-fiction book from Ashe Davenport, released in 2020.
Right. So. This book came out in June 2020 and it actually first pinged on my radar because of the most painfully ‘releasing a book in 2020’ way – the online book launch. Which I remember, loads of my friends on Instagram were talking about on the evening it happened. Lots of my mutuals and follows were saying something to the effect of; “OMG, if you’re not watching Ashe Davenport’s live book launch right now GET ON IT!” and lo – it appears that Davenport accidentally deleted the whole thing so I can’t direct you to watching the most hilarious and genius launch I’ve ever seen. I think … did it involve Ashe dressing up as a banana and letting her two kids climb all over and distract her at will? While she tried reading excerpts from the book? I am either remembering that accurately or the banana bit is just a lockdown fever-dream but either way – it was fantastic.
And it was one of those 2020 moments where I said to myself; “I must remember to read that book.”
And then imagine that clapping monkey from ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ replacing my brain.
Yeah.
Fast-forward to 2021 and I have so many pregnant or just-gave-birth friends and being me, I want to gift them books. My go-to has been ‘The Motherhood’ edited by Jamila Rizvi because it’s fabulous, but I am not (nor do I ever want to be) a mother – but part of me wonders if I shouldn’t give my friends more varied and caustic, tender and honest portrayals of motherhood. Because everyone comes to motherhood differently. Aspirationally or worriedly. I am not one, but even I know that.
Suddenly ‘Sad Mum Lady’ and the faded grey/baby-pink cover pops in my mind. Not the title or author, mind – just the cover and vague memories of a banana reading an excerpt in a livestream. Luckily I am someone with many bookselling friends so I did the DM rounds – providing my hazy recollections based on cover and online launch and OF COURSE, Em (@em_isreading) came through and I purchased the book from the stunning store she works at; Neighbourhood Books.
But then I wondered if I shouldn’t read this book myself, before gifting it to some fragile pregnant and new mothers – a book called ‘Sad Mum Lady’ with a loving note saying, “thinking of you!” Don’t judge a book by its cover and maybe don’t gift it before reading it?
And so I started … and then I couldn’t stop.
The important thing to know is; Ashe Davenport is the Melbourne-based author and family columnist for The Design Files (fab blog!). This book began as a personal blog called Sad Pregnant Lady, which would become ‘Sad Mum Lady.’ So it reads very much like a personal diary, a thought-stream and confessional, very much for fans of ABC show ‘The Letdown.’
But it’s interspersed with Ashe’s individual flare and experience (like her above-stairs neighbour whose ice habit and in-denial mother become a weird obsession in the uncomfortable final weeks of her pregnancy).
Ashe writes with such stark honesty about the myths of motherhood – compared to the ‘earth mother’ Insta-filter holistic “sell” of it all. And she does examine her own childhood and young adulthood within this context too, particularly as she unravels her history of growing up with a surly single-mother, a more honest baby-boomer whose outlook on mothering and parenthood jars with Ashe’s attempts at a more progressive context – but is still beautiful, in its own way;
She told me once that the role of a parent was ‘a short-term caretaker’ and I said it was the bleakest thing I’d ever heard. She said it wasn’t bleak at all, because it meant we were on separate pathways that intertwined, and we got to be in each other’s lives because we wanted to be. At last she felt the sun on her skin again, as the travelled along, parsley sprig in hand.
There’s a lot in here that’s very personal – her personal relationships and the relationship with her own fraught mind and mental health. The relationship with her in-laws, and her partner Sam;
We kissed and I remembered that I’d also made a central nervous system out of a drop of semen, and an entire human was about to burst through my body like a showgirl out of a cake. You’re welcome, I thought, brushing an eyelash from his cheek. And I forgive you.
There’s some writing in here that is cosmically good and true. And sharp. My gosh is Ashe Davenport sharp;
It was midnight, and Kristy suggested Sam take a nap on the hard square birthing mat in the corner. She offered no blanket or pillow, just the square, fit for a family dog. It wasn’t that he was being punished, because that would imply he had some kind of significance in her mind. If I was a passenger in the birth, Sam was a tin can by the side of the road we’d burned past several towns ago.
I’ve never been a mother, and I have no wish to. I can safely say reading Ashe Davenport’s ‘Sad Mum Lady’ left me neither regretting that decision, or embracing it overly – it just … is. And I so appreciated her frank, funny, and full spectrum of experience. It was a window for me – someone looking in – but I can also see this book being a doorway for so many, a secret passage where people get to admit the parts of being a parent that they don’t like, the disappointments and resentments they harbour, the joy and love of it too. All soaking in this big tub of life before getting mixed up in the tumble where it’ll all come out in the wash. Eventually. For better or worse, but mostly in the funny.
Right. So. This book came out in June 2020 and it actually first pinged on my radar because of the most painfully ‘releasing a book in 2020’ way – the online book launch. Which I remember, loads of my friends on Instagram were talking about on the evening it happened. Lots of my mutuals and follows were saying something to the effect of; “OMG, if you’re not watching Ashe Davenport’s live book launch right now GET ON IT!” and lo – it appears that Davenport accidentally deleted the whole thing so I can’t direct you to watching the most hilarious and genius launch I’ve ever seen. I think … did it involve Ashe dressing up as a banana and letting her two kids climb all over and distract her at will? While she tried reading excerpts from the book? I am either remembering that accurately or the banana bit is just a lockdown fever-dream but either way – it was fantastic.
And it was one of those 2020 moments where I said to myself; “I must remember to read that book.”
And then imagine that clapping monkey from ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ replacing my brain.
Yeah.
Fast-forward to 2021 and I have so many pregnant or just-gave-birth friends and being me, I want to gift them books. My go-to has been ‘The Motherhood’ edited by Jamila Rizvi because it’s fabulous, but I am not (nor do I ever want to be) a mother – but part of me wonders if I shouldn’t give my friends more varied and caustic, tender and honest portrayals of motherhood. Because everyone comes to motherhood differently. Aspirationally or worriedly. I am not one, but even I know that.
Suddenly ‘Sad Mum Lady’ and the faded grey/baby-pink cover pops in my mind. Not the title or author, mind – just the cover and vague memories of a banana reading an excerpt in a livestream. Luckily I am someone with many bookselling friends so I did the DM rounds – providing my hazy recollections based on cover and online launch and OF COURSE, Em (@em_isreading) came through and I purchased the book from the stunning store she works at; Neighbourhood Books.
But then I wondered if I shouldn’t read this book myself, before gifting it to some fragile pregnant and new mothers – a book called ‘Sad Mum Lady’ with a loving note saying, “thinking of you!” Don’t judge a book by its cover and maybe don’t gift it before reading it?
And so I started … and then I couldn’t stop.
The important thing to know is; Ashe Davenport is the Melbourne-based author and family columnist for The Design Files (fab blog!). This book began as a personal blog called Sad Pregnant Lady, which would become ‘Sad Mum Lady.’ So it reads very much like a personal diary, a thought-stream and confessional, very much for fans of ABC show ‘The Letdown.’
But it’s interspersed with Ashe’s individual flare and experience (like her above-stairs neighbour whose ice habit and in-denial mother become a weird obsession in the uncomfortable final weeks of her pregnancy).
Ashe writes with such stark honesty about the myths of motherhood – compared to the ‘earth mother’ Insta-filter holistic “sell” of it all. And she does examine her own childhood and young adulthood within this context too, particularly as she unravels her history of growing up with a surly single-mother, a more honest baby-boomer whose outlook on mothering and parenthood jars with Ashe’s attempts at a more progressive context – but is still beautiful, in its own way;
She told me once that the role of a parent was ‘a short-term caretaker’ and I said it was the bleakest thing I’d ever heard. She said it wasn’t bleak at all, because it meant we were on separate pathways that intertwined, and we got to be in each other’s lives because we wanted to be. At last she felt the sun on her skin again, as the travelled along, parsley sprig in hand.
There’s a lot in here that’s very personal – her personal relationships and the relationship with her own fraught mind and mental health. The relationship with her in-laws, and her partner Sam;
We kissed and I remembered that I’d also made a central nervous system out of a drop of semen, and an entire human was about to burst through my body like a showgirl out of a cake. You’re welcome, I thought, brushing an eyelash from his cheek. And I forgive you.
There’s some writing in here that is cosmically good and true. And sharp. My gosh is Ashe Davenport sharp;
It was midnight, and Kristy suggested Sam take a nap on the hard square birthing mat in the corner. She offered no blanket or pillow, just the square, fit for a family dog. It wasn’t that he was being punished, because that would imply he had some kind of significance in her mind. If I was a passenger in the birth, Sam was a tin can by the side of the road we’d burned past several towns ago.
I’ve never been a mother, and I have no wish to. I can safely say reading Ashe Davenport’s ‘Sad Mum Lady’ left me neither regretting that decision, or embracing it overly – it just … is. And I so appreciated her frank, funny, and full spectrum of experience. It was a window for me – someone looking in – but I can also see this book being a doorway for so many, a secret passage where people get to admit the parts of being a parent that they don’t like, the disappointments and resentments they harbour, the joy and love of it too. All soaking in this big tub of life before getting mixed up in the tumble where it’ll all come out in the wash. Eventually. For better or worse, but mostly in the funny.
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July 13, 2020An authentic, frank and, consequently, very relatable account of motherhood and all of its grievances. Oh and joys! And this is half the point here: that horror, misery and torment are almost always adjacent to the wonder of parenthood. Borrowing from the blurb here, “finally, a book that resists the sanitised, acceptable face of parenting. You might not feel better, but at least you'll feel less alone.” And you will laugh. A lot. More of this in mumoirs, please!
May 4, 2021
A wonderful audiobook read by the author - sometimes the humor gets in the way of the stories in these essays but this feels like one of those books I am going to try and make all the fathers in my life read so that they get some sense of the intensity and grief and horror that can accompany being home with a newborn (or a toddler AND a newborn!).
July 12, 2025
This was unnervingly relatable, even to me as a father since I was basically the stay-at-home dad for my first son's toddler years, as I was still studying for my teaching degree and the money I made at the grocery store was less than the money saved by not sending the little man to daycare. I would be the last person to ever suggest that fathers have it just as hard as mothers do, because that is so far from the truth. I don't know how they do it, and I know that I wouldn't be able to - and that goes from months before the baby even comes out, right up until I suppose never, since even those whose kids are adults will consistently tell you the parental fretting and worrying never stops.
Luckily, for me - if not for most men in general - it's a little bit easier to disengage so that your every waking minute isn't held hostage to the crying lunatic's whims. Anyway, suffice to say I was well familiar with and gratified by the relentless honesty of this book. Far from the superhuman (... superdog) parents in the kids show, Bluey*, Davenport is perfectly willing to be upfront about the constant obstacles, the endless bullshit, the pent-up rage and bitterness and frustration, the grief for an easier past, a romantic relationship with your partner where you have the will, the time, and the energy to have sex more than once every three or four months.
This book does its job very well in being an honest and often amusing portrayal of modern parenting in the real world. It's funny, disturbing, sad and all too real. But I feel like the double-aspiration to be both an honest book about parenting, and a personal memoir about battling post-natal depression, the former ends up getting most attention, and it drives the tone of the book into darker territory that does not necessarily translate to "better".
I think there's a fine balance, but I didn't get much of an actual sense of love and devotion to her own two girls. I am not, of course, trying to insinuate that her love for her children is inadequate. Such a thing would be 100% wrong, and 100% the words of an asshole. I just think she didn't really put much consideration into conveying that, and for a book about parenting which does not seem to be intended to actually dissuade people from making the same mistake of bring a human being into the world, it does leave some space for balance which is never filled.
I also wasn't besotted at all with the overall tone and snarky style of writing Davenport adopts. She's a bit too sarcastic and hostile to well-meaning idiots to really win my personal affection - which I'm sure she'd be absolutely devasted to hear about.
Luckily, for me - if not for most men in general - it's a little bit easier to disengage so that your every waking minute isn't held hostage to the crying lunatic's whims. Anyway, suffice to say I was well familiar with and gratified by the relentless honesty of this book. Far from the superhuman (... superdog) parents in the kids show, Bluey*, Davenport is perfectly willing to be upfront about the constant obstacles, the endless bullshit, the pent-up rage and bitterness and frustration, the grief for an easier past, a romantic relationship with your partner where you have the will, the time, and the energy to have sex more than once every three or four months.
This book does its job very well in being an honest and often amusing portrayal of modern parenting in the real world. It's funny, disturbing, sad and all too real. But I feel like the double-aspiration to be both an honest book about parenting, and a personal memoir about battling post-natal depression, the former ends up getting most attention, and it drives the tone of the book into darker territory that does not necessarily translate to "better".
I think there's a fine balance, but I didn't get much of an actual sense of love and devotion to her own two girls. I am not, of course, trying to insinuate that her love for her children is inadequate. Such a thing would be 100% wrong, and 100% the words of an asshole. I just think she didn't really put much consideration into conveying that, and for a book about parenting which does not seem to be intended to actually dissuade people from making the same mistake of bring a human being into the world, it does leave some space for balance which is never filled.
I also wasn't besotted at all with the overall tone and snarky style of writing Davenport adopts. She's a bit too sarcastic and hostile to well-meaning idiots to really win my personal affection - which I'm sure she'd be absolutely devasted to hear about.
December 28, 2020
I’m not a mum but I am sad and a lady, so plenty to relate to. These witty essays were nice and short so easy for my exhausted pandemic brain to digest - I imagine this would be useful for frazzled mums with “baby brain” too, or who are trying to read in between wrangling children. A couple of essays went a bit too hard on the metaphors for my taste and felt like they were trying to be poignant. Equally I thought there was room for more sincerity in others - humour is a great leveler and coping mechanism but sometimes life is hard and not funny at all, and that’s okay too.
3.5 stars.
3.5 stars.
July 13, 2020
Hilarious, dark and relatable. This book had me wishing my own postnatally depressed inner voice was this witty! It made me look back on a dark time in my life in a more humorous light which is quite powerful. Much appreciation to the author for sharing her experiences.
September 12, 2020
Reading this made me desperately want to be Ashe Davenport’s friend, which I’m sure is not an uncommon response. I laughed a lot reading these vignettes, but also was just generally fascinated by Davenport’s insights into her family (both immediate and extended) and anger management journey.
July 12, 2020
Loved this, smashed it, laughed my ass off. So refreshingly sparkling, colourful and rich. And not at all depressing! Ashe writes very very well.
December 11, 2024
Vivid and moving
January 20, 2021
As a new mum and sometimes a sad one, this was very relatable. Funny, honest and somewhat sad, but pretty hopeful too. An nice easy short read for the few minutes here and there I find time to read!
June 27, 2020
4.5. Smashed through this one. It was a very easy read given how engrossing Davenport's writing is. She's very frank, funny and relates her experiences like she would to a friend.
May 1, 2021
I saw Ashe Davenport at the Sydney Writers’ Festival and immediately bought and read this book. It was as funny and moving and weird as I had hoped.
July 9, 2022
Just didn’t really vibe with this one and couldn’t relate to a lot of it.
Some early motherhood truths for sure but overall just felt like it was trying a bit too hard.
2 stars.
Some early motherhood truths for sure but overall just felt like it was trying a bit too hard.
2 stars.
July 28, 2024
Comedic snapshots of Davenport’s experience as a first-time mum.
My main issue with this is that, based on the blurb, I thought it was going to be a series of essays with a humorous bent, but it actually turned out to be short snapshots of memoir, very focussed on the comedy value of motherhood and which felt a lot like reading stand-up. I’m not sure whether it’s a misleading blurb or if I just had a brain fart whilst reading it, but here we are. I love the use of humour as an entry to exploring tough subjects, but with no real introspection, this memoir felt very surface-level and that the point of it was to be funny and push for laughs, rather than to actually explore the complex experience of motherhood (some aspects of which are very funny indeed, it’s true…but not all of it). I also just didn’t quite gel with the humour, which felt deliberately crude at times - humour is notoriously cultural and Davenport is Australian, so that might just be a cultural difference? A series of memoir snapshots that read like a stand-up set, with a few genuinely hilarious observations but a disappointing overall lack of depth and introspection.
February 8, 2021
Parenting is ugly. Especially if you are not prepared for the emotional intensity and extraordinary sacrifices required. Ashe Davenport was not prepared and as she plunged into the never ending wakefulness of a newborn, having had her body torn apart in order to feed this squirming, screaming monster, she sinks a little beneath the waves. This book is her account of the cloud of horror that is post-natal depression parenting.
August 14, 2020
At the time of reading this I was 30 weeks pregnant and housebound with a sick 3 year old and thinking well this is my life for the foreseeable future. So I really needed to read something that made me feel less alone. This was perfect - so honest and relatable and like confiding in a friend. Ashe captures the highs and lows of parenthood and life beautifully.
September 7, 2020
I laughed so obnoxiously loud. I even teared up on occasion. Relatable for parents, intriguing and insightful for those expecting and could be used as a method of contraception for those yet to take the parenthood journey.
Shining humour into the often mundane and unspoken parts of parenthood. I adored it.
Shining humour into the often mundane and unspoken parts of parenthood. I adored it.
November 5, 2021
I can't remember where i saw this book first but it popped up on a recommendation list somewhere and i borrowed it from my local library. In a world of "photoshopped" perfect lives Ashe's honest look at her life with two kids was refreshing and down to earth. Even not having kids there was parts of this i could relate to.
June 12, 2022
I bought this collection of witty and entertaining short stories after seeing the author’s session at Sydney Writer’s Festival.
Amusing, entertaining and in the vein of the ABC TV ‘The letdown’.
Personally, I preferred Ashe Davenport’s standup. This lady show have her own tv show.
Failing that, head over to her Instagram.
Amusing, entertaining and in the vein of the ABC TV ‘The letdown’.
Personally, I preferred Ashe Davenport’s standup. This lady show have her own tv show.
Failing that, head over to her Instagram.
June 29, 2020
4.5 - so realistic and beautifully written. An easy page turner as it delves into the inner workings of a mums brain wo doesn't quite have everything 'together' (which is a farce in itself to be honest). Loved it!
August 5, 2020
This should be mandatory reading for all new Mums, a true look at what motherhood can be like for so many. I’ve never felt more heard as a parent than reading this book. I beg of Ashe to write more books, she’s brilliant.
August 11, 2020
I don't know if I've ever read a book before that has left me with the profound sense of being seen, and feeling a little less alone and crazy for the way I feel navigating the early years of parenthood.
August 17, 2020
I really enjoyed this book. It’s so real and relatable! The rat chapter made my partner and I laugh as we’ve had a similar experience at our house. A great collection of open and honest stories about parenthood.
October 23, 2020
On the cover it says ‘as sharp and painful as LEGO underfoot, but infinitely funnier. Sums up the book perfectly. Beautifully written. I laughed, I cried and I wanted to give Ashe a big hug and say it will get better. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences Ashe.
December 31, 2020
This book came to me at a stage when I was struggling to read anything and I devoured it quickly. It's simultaneously funny, bleak and visceral, with Davenport depicting parenthood as something that's ultimately rewarding but exceedingly punishing, particularly for mothers: “Giving birth to humans is so human and yet utterly dehumanising.”
January 10, 2021
A collection of frank and darkly funny stories on parenthood that is highly relatable, somewhat terrifying and comforting. Easy to read, I really enjoyed this one! Also loved that Ashe is from Melbourne so all of the places mentioned were familiar.
March 10, 2021
more different (iconoclastic?) than expected. deep and achey and all kinds of funny and brilliant. made me see my first birthing experience differently, in a helpful and unexpected way. personal *and* relatable.
August 24, 2021
It lived up to this statement on the back; "You might not feel better, but at least you'll feel less alone". Hilarious at times, (a little bland at others) but always refreshingly frank. I think women need to share more honestly like this. Real and relatable.
June 22, 2020
4.5 stars
July 2, 2020
For anyone who is a mum, who has or had a mum, or who is thinking about being a mum. Really real and really delightful.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews