Since we all need to be superwoman, what happens when the roles are reversed? Alison Mearns wonders if there is such thing as the domestic god.

It's a simple fact that women are able to multi-task: we can organise a dinner party, bathe the kids, iron, and still find time to look fabulous, appear relaxed and in control when the guests arrive 10 minutes early.

We're living in the era of the domestic goddess. We're told we must have a career, children, make a perfect home, cook, entertain and still be ready to hit the sheets with our man. Since we all need to be superwoman, what happens when the roles are reversed? Just what is the male equivalent of the domestic goddess?

I met my husband, David, at the age of 30, three years after my making it into the management of a high street bank. After my first child, I was promoted again, but my new role demanded extensive travel. So, when I found out I was having my second child, I decided to leave the bank. To help cushion the change in circumstances, I received a voluntary redundancy package - sometimes life is good.

It was a change for me, suddenly being at home with the children. I wanted to work, as I needed the stimulation, but I also wanted to be a mum. I really started to review my life. I went back to learning and started my own consultancy business, to give myself the work/life balance I so craved.

I also joined the Fawcett Society (a women's lobby group) and worked to encourage other women to recognise their own potential. I was subsequently nominated for the Yorkshire Woman of Achievement in 2001, met the current Prime Minister, the Chancellor and Cherie Booth QC.

And just when I thought everything was going well - nice home, good jobs for both of us, wonderful children, family, friends and two holidays a year - the dreaded thing happens: my husband is made redundant.

Now I am the reluctant breadwinner. But all my plans of working around the children's school times and holidays are gone. It's back to the rat race, working every hour there is, to make up for the loss of earnings. But that's not a problem, is it? My husband is at home full-time, he can take over my role as domestic goddess - or can he?

I've decided men cannot make decisions without our consultation. Things that would be second nature to a woman are alien to men. As all women know, supermarket shopping is God's way of testing our patience. But men haven't cultivated these skills yet.

On one occasion I received a call at work from my husband in a state of panic to inform me that my daughter was on her way to hospital in an ambulance. Apparently, while he was busily making his way through the checkout, our youngest managed to get onto a Postman Pat ride, took a nasty fall, cutting her chin badly enough to require stitches.

The supermarket's manager called the ambulance following health and safety guidelines whilst tracking down David. Child and father were eventually reunited.

I'm often reminded of the infamous book: Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, which illustrates how men and women's strengths lie in different areas. I've had to realise that things won't be done my way. If it needs doing, write it down, as men can only do one job at a time.

Last week was a prime example. I reminded David that the dry-cleaning and the holiday photographs needed to be collected. When I returned home I asked to see the photographs but - you know what's coming - he'd only remembered the dry-cleaning.

Then there was the time when my lovely handwash-only silk shirt was put in a 50-degree wash. Men do not know about wash labels and different settings on the washing machine. That's a skill we need to teach ours boys.

At our children's school they have a cake stall on Fridays to raise school funds and, as the note only comes out the day before to remind the specific class that it is their turn, David realised that he would have to bake.

Having never baked in his life, he quickly took control and went to the local store and bought a ready mix pack of Bob the Builder muffins. When I came home they were ready with icing sugar and sugar paper, Bob motifs in place. He was so proud and so was I - they even sold all 12 muffins at school. I think David set a great example, but, sadly, my son was very embarrassed that his dad had made them.

As time progresses he's getting better but there have been blood, sweat and many tears along the way. However, we're still together, in sickness and in health (the vicar never mentioned redundancy).

Sometimes I wonder if I can get my money back. I'm sure I'm covered under the terms and conditions of the marriage certificate. On the other hand, though, I'd rather have a man from Mars with all his faults than no man at all. Maybe I'm not such a feminist after all.