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On sloths and helicopters





I have started 2020 in spectacularly unproductive fashion. No idea why, but honestly, I am like a slug. Or like a sloth which, thanks to a visit to the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition, I now know moves incredibly slowly and comes down from its tree just once every eight days for a poop. Apparently it has a very low-nutrient diet, so the slow moving is all about energy conservation. No-one knows why it bothers coming down the tree to, you know. Intriguing, no? The exhibition was brilliant, I can highly recommend it. Stunning images and really interesting stuff written about each one too, to wit: sloth lifestyle. The littlest boy was lured along with the inducement of pizza afterwards.

Does anyone else have a problem getting their dog to eat a worming tablet? It is bone-shaped, but quite frankly not fooling anyone. Bertie, who will eat all manner of revolting stuff that he finds in the gutter, will not touch it, even if it is crushed up with a sardine or covered in egg. We spent a whole evening trying to get it down him, and in the end I had to carve out holes in giant pieces of Cheddar and put the pieces in there, then fill in the holes with more Cheddar so that he couldn't see/taste it then drizzle the whole thing with sardine oil. Honestly, it was such a drama. I was out most of the evening, and when I got back he still hadn't eaten most of it. I have a feeling that he'd had half an egg, a sardine and a pound of cheese though. The following day he was delighted to find that someone had put out a huge amount of cat (?) food in their garden (either for cats or foxes I assume) and he managed to get most of that down his neck as well. There has been some gas. He is not in the least bit bothered.

Later on in the week I forgot to go to an important meeting about steering your child through their GCSEs. So now it looks as though I don't care. I have tried hard to make up for it, by all manner of helpful suggestions. I have looked up past papers, found the powerpoint presentation on the school website, run through different methods of revision and asked many irritating questions. We feel that I have probably done enough now and no more is needed of me. In fact, I caught the end of Weekend Woman's Hour earlier and apparently it is no good being a helicopter parent or a snowplough parent any more, we need to be a trampoline parent and just sort of bounce in when it all goes wrong and be supportive, then fly back off up into the sky. I am standing by.

Now if you'll excuse me I am going to go and read all about productivity and how to get some. Any and all tips gratefully received.

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