What my week as a content creator for a Temu sloth taught me

In my naivety, I was excited. Thrilled. Overjoyed, even, to be leaving the cesspit of germs, the $180-a-day fees, the baby-ness of long daycare behind.

In the sweet summer days of January, I was looking forward to a predictable, super local, $0 per day (except for school fees, of course) existence at the public school up the road.

It started strong – my delighted child came home from the first day, a crown proclaiming him king of kindergarten atop his head. The novelty of making a lunchbox stuck around for at least a week.

Then I became a full-time content creator for a stuffed toy from Temu.

My child’s class pet, Sammy the Sloth, came home one Thursday afternoon. The reason for Sammy gracing our house, my child told me, was for the sloth to become a beloved member of our family. He was to be photographed enjoying his week with us, then the pictures were to be printed and scrapbooked for the rest of the class’s enjoyment on his triumphant return.

Flummoxed by Sammy’s week at another family’s home that featured him catching a bass in a local dam, I asked the kid’s dad how he had managed such an impressive week for the sloth.

The answer? AI! Sammy had never caught a fish! But try explaining that to a five-year-old, so off I trundled to the soccer match, on a bike ride and meeting a new baby cousin, Sammy and my phone in tow.

Where, I wonder as I stand in line for a printing machine at Officeworks at 9pm, have the cute pictures of them playing in the sandpit and eating nutritious meals prepared by a daycare chef, gone? Where is the 7am drop-off so you can get to work at a reasonable hour? Was long daycare really so bad?

The term started with an athletics carnival. The first few attempts at the 70-metre dash were hilarious and pretty cute. The subsequent “field events” – included a shot put with a plastic ball weighing about100 grams and a relay race with beanbags on the kids’ heads – started to wear thin as a spectator sport.

The week after involved five-year-olds giving speeches about what animal they’d be if they were one. Cue hours of soul-searching about which animal was the best one to be, reference books from the library – please do not just copy and paste information from the internet, the note from school scolded parents in advance – attempts to explain palm cards and endless changes from a wolf to a wombat to a monkey.

Yet another day was “open day”. Deceptively named, open day is not for families considering signing up to this parental endurance test – it’s for current parents.