I am not a perfectionist. Never have been. That doesn’t mean I don’t have standards, or that I won’t do things to the best of my ability. It just means that I’ve long recognised that there are only 24 hours in a day. And I like to sleep for a third of those. There are (too) many things that you kinda have to do to a certain (sometimes quite high) standard, and certain things that you ought to do, like exercise, cooking healthy balanced meals from scratch, taking all your unwanted stuff to Oxfam, organising your ten trillion photos into photo books, calling your mother/sister/friend/Firstborn Son…, and then all the things you really do want to do but probably shouldn’t (Netflix, social media, eating chocolate, or an efficient combination of all three). And finally there are things that are a criminal waste of time, like ironing (seriously, that shirt which you’re going to wear a jacket over, and which will crumple the minute you put in on regardless of how crisply it was ironed?); wrapping gifts (with scientific precision AND artistic flourish using expensive wrapping paper and posh ribbon); your children’s homework (you’ve spent years doing your own and hating it, why are you doing theirs now?)

To be honest, there’s often a fine line between what one must and should do. These tasks often demand high standards, are usually time-consuming, difficult, often repetitive, mandatory, with a non-negotiable deadline. They’re the absolute worst; the ones we’ve all tried to avoid, usually at significant cost to ourselves. I’m thinking essays, doing your tax return, organising and turning up to that awful speed awareness course, revising for exams, paying bills, buying and (shoddily) wrapping a gazillion Christmas presents, laundry (even without the ironing), cleaning, renewing important documents… you get my drift. Things that you cannot ignore. But which have to be done to a certain standard to avoid repeating them at best, paying hefty fines at worse. But here’s the thing: none of these things require perfection. Mostly you are required to achieve a minimum standard, but that’s really not the same as perfection. You can strive to get full marks for an exam, but is that really necessary? Don’t misunderstand me, there is nothing wrong with trying hard, doing one’s best and doing really well. You get a great deal of smug satisfaction from getting recognition for a job well done. It can be worth the effort. But… maybe remember that most of these unpleasant tasks go unrecognised. You don’t get a pat on the back for paying your bills or doing a grocery shop, or cleaning, or putting out your nicely sorted recycling… nope, but you still have to do it. I reckon I struck the right balance when I got a ‘gentleman’s degree’ for my nursing. That’s a 2:2, which is not awesome. But come on, I wasn’t going to be competing for jobs! I acquired the necessary practical nursing skills and, bottom line, I surpassed the minimum standards. Oh, and I had a blast! The degree, and the essay writing skills I acquired did get me onto my midwifery course which I was much more motivated by. Even though, FYI, turns out that essay writing skills are non-essential for practicing nurses/midwives. But you gotta write the suckers. There’s a set standard and the deadlines are non-negotiable. Luckily for childbearing women, we did have a long list of skills that we had to have demonstrably acquired to a high level of proficiency. Not perfection, not even then. In midwifery, perhaps more so than many other jobs, we have to be good (not perfect) and we have to recognise our limitations. And ask for help if we’re not sure. I’d say that’s where people often stumble. When Only Daughter asks for homework help, it’s usually 10pm the night before it needs to be handed in. I can’t blame her, I used to be the queen of last-minute, all-nighter, cutting it ludicrously fine essay writing. Like her, I had better things to do than homework. I’m better now, I’ve learned the hard way enough times. So while I can’t say I’m thrilled to have to get involved with swatting for a history test at 10pm, I’m glad she’s asked. It shows that she cares. That she’s realised it’ll go awry if she buries her head in the sand and hopes for the best. And I quite like history. I don’t expect her to get full marks (that would smack of hypocrisy), but I’m happy to provide minimal assistance (and some moral support) for her get a semi-decent grade! Only Daughter is my 3rd child and I’ve realised that at her age, acing a history test is non-essential. Having said that, acquiring the study skills to get good grades when it matters, that’s something we can be practising. A lot! Practice. That’s a bit of a P word in our house. It is a universally understood truth (among my kids) that being forced to practice their instruments is a breach of their human rights. Unfortunately for them, I don’t reckon that the Geneva Convention of Human Rights is breached by enforced piano/guitar/clarinet practice. I’m convinced that learning to play an instrument is beneficial on many levels. Yes, it is fiendishly difficult; yes, the practising is unbelievably tedious and repetitive; yup, progress is slow; and boy are those grade exams the stuff of nightmares… But oh, the joy of getting it right after a particularly arduous practice… You may never be a musician, indeed, you may discover you have very little musical aptitude, but you do learn how far dogged perseverance will get you. Further than you think, it turns out. But once again, it’s worth pointing out that although, yes, practice makes perfect, perfection is not required. Also, you can replace music practice with any number of difficult endeavours which require time, effort and repetition (but not perfection). I chose music for my Slothimules because I had zero intention of being a soccer mum. Saturday mornings were not made for huddling miserably by a football pitch. Plus, you guessed it, I was strongly encouraged to play the piano as a child. I had an aptitude factor of zero. It may seem harsh to make my kids do something I intensely disliked but… learning to read music is a lifelong skill that, like cycling, you never completely forget. Both skills that can bring you unexpected joy years later. To my surprised delight, all three Slothimules are natural musicians. First Born Son tried to hide his talent but it shone through eventually. Middle Child decided he was going to be a rock star so he was self-motivated from a young age (check out his work #millerrogue, it’s really good). I get fleeting glimpses of Only Daughter’s talent (she hides it well, not gonna lie), but it’s there, and I will coax it out of her!

So anyway, that was a bit of a roundabout way of saying: Do difficult stuff. Take that first step, and keep practising. Eventually you’ll be good enough. Do it because you really have to, or because you really want to. But don’t iron. Just hang your clothes out nicely to dry, fold them neatly and voila, you have surpassed minimal laundry standards. Anything else is superfluous. Also, you will have to wrap those Christmas presents, I’m afraid that’s mandatory. But DO NOT get involved with the social media influencers who purport to show you how to do it gorgeously, ‘easily’ or ‘in just a few minutes.’ Wrapping paper is meant to get ripped and your efforts will be destroyed in a tiny fraction of the time it took you to wrap it. There’s no earthly need. And don’t do your children’s homework. Yes, they might fail, but it’s actually ok if they do. They’ll probably do (slightly) better next time. Oh, and do eat chocolate. There’s always time for that!