IT was my nephew s christening on Sunday and I was asked to be godmother. My youngest brother lives in County Donegal, and me, and several family members flew out to Ireland at the end of last week and as well as attending a beautiful christening at a tin

IT was my nephew's christening on Sunday and I was asked to be godmother. My youngest brother lives in County Donegal, and me, and several family members flew out to Ireland at the end of last week and as well as attending a beautiful christening at a tiny village church we spent a few days basking in the sunshine and catching up on family trivia and gossip.

Matthew, my godson, is nine months old and is one of those babies who is constantly happy and very content to be passed around, so we all ended up with our fair share of cuddles.

I have to say that it is some time since I have handled a baby, but hey, I have brought up three sons and I honestly thought I could cope with a spot of nappy changing.

When I had my eldest two sons I used the terry nappies with what now seems like a lethal weapon (a big metal safety pin) and when you had finished changing the baby you had to soak the dirty nappies in a nappy pail before washing them.

I used to love seeing a line-full of white nappies blowing in the breeze and hated it when they began to lose their bleached white colour.

A pair of rubber pants kept everything in place, but compared to the total ease and convenience of disposal nappies it seems now like a lot of hard work.

I know disposal nappies are bad for the environment but seeing my brother and his partner rushing around and fighting off tiredness after a sleepless night I honestly think I would probably take the easier option and use the throw-away nappies if I was in their shoes and given the choice.

Anyway, my nappy changing stint on Friday night was challenging to say the least.

The problem is that when it's someone else's baby and you haven't done any baby stuff for a while it feels terrifyingly awkward. I was all fingers and thumbs. They had a baby changing unit, which was quite high off the ground and Matthew is at that age where he is wriggling around all the time so you can't take your eye off him even for a second.

Anyway, much to everyone's amusement I attempted to put the nappy on back to front and in the end I had to be rescued, or the poor baby had to be rescued is nearer the mark.

So, bearing in mind how much I struggled with a disposable nappy, can you imagine a terry nappy, a big sharp safety pin and a wriggling baby in the hands of a nervous godparent. It doesn't bear thinking about, does it?