Professor Jenny Davis - Research Institute for Environment and Livelihoods, Charles Darwin University.

@waterpenny10

Different careers have different challenges for mothers, and parents more generally. For ecologists with young children, it can be quite challenging to undertake fieldwork that requires long periods away from home, possibly in remote locations. It becomes even more difficult if you have moved to take up a research position in another state, or another country, away from the traditional support networks of family and close friends. Things become even trickier if both parents are field ecologists. Solutions are varied but they always involve good communication and the ability to compromise.

As a freshwater ecologist, combining motherhood with an academic position at Murdoch University, literally a whole continent away from my family, and with a partner whose research involved long periods of remote fieldwork, the challenges were plentiful. However, by that productive combination of luck and hard work, I found that there was funding for interesting and useful research projects that could be undertaken almost in my own backyard. This was on the little-studied (at the time) aquatic invertebrate communities of the wetlands of the Swan Coastal Plain, in Perth, Western Australia. The closest wetland was less than a km from my university office and lab, and there were literally hundreds of wetlands, ranging from urban to undisturbed, within a 50km radius. This meant that I could sample wetlands during the day whilst still finishing in time to pick up my son from afterschool care. However, I was also keen to use the study leave provisions that were available at the time, to academics at my university, to broaden my understanding of wetland ecosystems. The financial and logistic challenges of moving to an overseas location with my young son meant that I could not visit international labs, however, I could use the opportunity to work on Australian wetlands. As a result, I was able to undertake six months of field-based research at arid zone wetlands, in central Australia, in 1994, and at tropical wetlands in Kakadu National Park, in 1998. Whilst my son did not come on the major field trips, we often visited waterholes and wetlands as part of weekend and school holiday camping and exploration trips in the NT.

Like many young children, my son was filled with curiosity. He delighted in turning over rocks to find the waterpennies, and the other aquatic invertebrates that I was looking for, and generally just enjoyed all the fun that can be had around water.  However, at about the age of 12 he made an announcement: ‘Mum, I am just letting you know, I am not coming on any more field trips with you, or with Dad (he had been on numerous small mammal trapping expeditions with his Dad), from now on I am working on my computer’. True to his word, his teenage years involved a lot of time in front of his computer, and he went on to pursue a career in IT.

However, his early encounters with biota and natural environments were not entirely forgotten and he still enjoys outdoor pursuits. In 2016, when I took up a position at Charles Darwin University, in Darwin, my son, James, now an adult, and his partner, Dora Kojevnikov, came to visit me before leaving Australia to work in the United States.  It was in March, near the end of the Wet season, and the Darwin skies were full of dragonflies (they are a good indicator of the arrival of the Dry). We started talking about our dragonfly catching trips at Kakadu in 1998. I had produced a field guide based on that sabbatical work but, to my disappointment, I had not been able to raise the funds needed to publish it. After listening to this story my son looked at me and said ‘Mum, I can make you an app for that’. I subsequently retrieved the stored files, Dora worked on the formatting and editing, and James wrote the code. Less than 12 months later, the free app was released as ‘Identifly – Dragonflies and Damselflies of the Top End’ in the App Store and on Google Play, on World Wetlands Day, February 2, 2017.  This was a wonderful, and completely unexpected outcome of fieldwork I had undertaken with my nine year old son, almost twenty years earlier. The app is still being used, particularly when dragonflies appear in Darwin, en masse, at the end of the Wet season and I still get immense enjoyment out of telling people - my son made me an app!

Fig. 1. James Friend (aged 5) in 1994, attired in appropriate field clothing (hat, fly net and sock covers) halfway through an overland trek with his mother to a remote spring near Mt Liebig, central Australia, to collect waterpennies (Coleoptera: Psephenidae). (Image: Jenny Davis)

Fig. 2. James Friend with his mother, Jenny Davis, and partner, Dora Kojevnikov, at Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone National Park, USA. (Image: James Friend)

Fig. 3. The Identifly App – a digital field guide to the dragonflies and damselflies of the Top End of northern Australia. Available from the App Store and Google Play.

Dr Perpetua Turner - Adjunct Researcher, School of Natural Sciences, University of Tasmania.

In 2006 I went to the Ecological Society of Australia annual conference in Sydney. I was 7 months pregnant with my third child. I sat and listened to an inspirational lecture by Dr Meg Lowman. During question time, a young female ecologist asked what would be Dr Lowman’s advice to women embarking on a career in ecology.

What followed was encouragement, field work advice and research direction. She took her preschool aged children into the field (also mentioned in this video from time 18.13).

At this my heart sank.

Let’s face it. In today’s day and age, I can’t take my children in the field with me.  Add to this that I am the primary carer, our families live interstate (no grandparent/aunt/uncle help), I have a special needs child, and my husband and I both working full-time is not realistic unless we want to heavily rely on childcare. So, in the past 10 years since my 1^st born, and the last 3.5 years since my 4^th born, have I any hope of continuing as an ecologist mother?

Yes, I do.

Find a job and a location that is amenable to your situation.

I walked into my first PhD related job 6 months before my PhD was handed in. Whilst employed at the Australian Antarctic Division (AAD) in terrestrial ecology (my field is bryophyte/vascular plant ecology), I went to Macquarie Island, spent a summer on Heard Island and published papers. I had just started making some headway in my field then almost 2 years in my first child was born. Did things come to a halt?

Yes, and no.

I left the AAD. The facts were, my position was not permanent and of the women I knew working in my area, only one had children – her children were school age and she worked part-time. With a newborn I realised I had a long fight to establish my position. Nine of the 27 who went to Heard Island during the 2003-2004 summer were women. None of us had children. I intended to have more children and it was clear to me that unless I could secure a permanent position, a part-time position at the AAD in science (I wanted to be part of my children’s pre-school lives) was going to be impossible.

I looked for a position that suited my new lifestyle, in an area that was more adaptable to my situation – I applied for a post-doc in forestry. Yes, many laughed. How was the situation in forestry different from that at the Antarctic Division? I did move from one industry dominated by men to another. However, I was also working locally making field work easier, I was still working in my field (forest ecology) and I was able to do field work safely whilst pregnant. I was fortunate that I had people confident I could do the job – the post-doc was full-time but I negotiated working 70% FTE, using the remaining 30% FTE to employ a technical officer. It was successful because the people I worked with were communicative, positive, hardworking and open minded (especially when I was expressing breastmilk on the back of the ute!).

Don’t be scared to be honest about your situation

If you find a job like I did that suits your new lifestyle, be upfront about your situation.

My first son was 4 months old when I had my Post-doc interview in mid-2005. Just before leaving home for the interview he decided his feed looked better on the front of me. Black hides everything! The interview was daunting. Present were:

• Dean of Science, Engineering and Technology;
• Chief Scientist at Forestry Tasmania (FT)
• Manager of Native Forests (FT)
• Conservation Biologist (FT)
• Head of School for both Plant Science
• Head of School for Zoology
• Project Leader – Bushfire Co-operative Research Centre (CRC)

Some questions were good, others I stumbled with. And the Dean asked why I hadn’t published much since my PhD (completed in 2003). I was ready with the answer (I had papers in prep and submitted, I had prepared for and spent time south) and that seemed satisfactory. But with each child and each new job, this question has continued to be asked. Dr Emily Nicholson recently posted an excellent blog about accounting for career breaks. I was happy to read her blog as I had already included such statistics and comments in my latest CV. I calculated her suggestions into a table. It looks like this:

The table shows the FTE time I worked for each year by month. You can see when my PhD was submitted, when children were born (green highlight) and where I had breaks (0%). At the bottom of each column it shows for that year %FTE employment and how many papers were published. A summary shows the number of papers I would have published had I worked full-time since my first child was born and other work e.g. the number of book reviews I have edited since 2009.

I’ve learnt to be positive, upfront and honest. I don’t give reasons like lack of sleep, for my low publication record. I know many people who work full-time on lack of sleep and who publish well.

However, I do point out, as the Table above shows, that had I been working full-time my publications would have quadrupled. Compare my table to Emily’s calculations and the data is compelling. Although we have had different workloads, number of children and time since our PhD’s, we both would have a dramatically increased publication output had we been working full-time. I also emphasise that whilst the table shows areas of 0% FTE I have not been idle. I’ve been a member on the Tasmanian Threatened Species Scientific Advisory Committee, current ESA Book Review Editor, Playgroup Leader, Parents and Friends member and School Board secretary.

This emphasis on unpaid work is important, such as commissioning and editing of 184 published book reviews in 6 years. This work has kept me in the loop despite the low FTE workload. Networking has eventuated into employment.

In the field I work in, most people are aware that working part-time and raising kids is not easy, but not all. I’m careful not to underestimate the level of empathy or overplay on my situation. Of the six scientists for my post-doc interview panel, I knew one shared the care for his children, another’s wife worked full-time in the same field as him, and another’s wife worked part-time in forestry, cared for their two children and was a breastfeeding counsellor! Of course having four children and working as an ecologist is hard. I am realistic about what I can and cannot do, and use evidence of what I have achieved whilst part-time to show my abilities and realism. As Emily pointed out, if this is what we can do working with children, just imagine what could be achieved working full-time.

Choose mentors who mirror your situation and where you want to be

I’ve had many mentors before motherhood; nearly all of them have been men. Given my situation now, I look at the women in ecology who have influenced my decisions with my career and family, my goals and expectations.

A few of my colleagues have returned to work full-time after childbirth and a few have chosen not to have children at all. These women work hard and are inspirational. Many women ‘at the top’ are women who: have no children; do not have pre-primary or primary school aged children; have returned to full-time work after childbirth; have retained a tenured position from the start (thus sustaining their career).  These women may have either raised their children first then completed their PhD (no maternity career breaks) or completed their PhD and then had children. I fall into the ‘completed my PhD and then had children’ category and I am far from alone.

I undertook a Women in Leadership program with the University of Tasmania, aimed at assisting the careers of women in science. We were told to choose a mentor. My first choice was a woman who returned to full-time work after having children. No surprises when I was told she didn’t have time to mentor me. My next choice should have been my first as it was more realistic to my situation: a female ecologist whose situation had mirrored mine almost exactly, and who holds a leadership role.

The image above was taken in 2015. Recall that none of the women I went to Heard Island with were mothers? I went to Heard Island with these women (I’m second from the right). They are an inspiration to me – from each I have learned to be realistic about my situation. They have reminded me of what is important. Over coffee we discussed our careers, and how important it is to have ‘median’ ecologists.

Median is not a bad word. Median ecologists play an important role. Median ecologists are productive and efficient – and just remember if you are going to make comparisons, make sure the weightings are right (thank-you Emily Nicholson!).

This article was first published on the PepTalk blog and is reproduced here with the author's permission.

Dr Maggie J Watson - Lecturer in Ornithology, Charles Sturt University.

In this photo, I was conducting my PhD research on crested terns at Phillip Island way back in January 2009. I was medicating chicks against ectoparasites and comparing their immune function to unmedicated chicks. This required a lot of scrabbling around and catching chicks and taking their blood for later analysis. The baby is my son, born at the end of December 2008 and he was about 3 weeks old in this picture. He was my third child, so I knew what I could do with a baby, so I didn’t think twice about hauling him out to the island in the middle of a 10,000 strong seabird colony. I figured it would be good for his immune system! I would keep him in a sling while I ran around grabbing chicks, and breast feed him on the go, all while grappling with terns and drawing blood, centrifuging it, making smears and writing everything down in my trusty field notebook. My husband and two older boys would help out most days, setting up shade cloth corrals and handing me chicks.

I’ve always brought my children to help out with fieldwork, they have so much fun, and it is a great learning experience. The funniest thing that ever happened was in 2010 on Montague Island when I was banding crested terns and a volunteer and my children were grabbing chicks and ferrying them to me as I banded. Charlie was a toddler then and not fast enough to capture chicks, so he kept bringing long dead birds (mostly silver gulls) to me and I would thank him very sincerely before tossing them away and he would happily toddle off to find the next bird for mummy to band.

My most sincere advice is to not stop doing ecology just because of motherhood. You can do anything even with a baby on board.

Sandra Penman - PhD Candidate, School of Ecosystem and Forest Sciences, University of Melbourne.

I am a part-time PhD student studying the fire ecology of microbats while also being a mum to two gorgeous kids - 10 and 5. My kids bring lots of joy and are excellent little ecologists – they are enthusiastic and endlessly curious. They are both fantastic observers of nature; often getting excited about a shiny bug, a cool leaf, or a big pile of poo.

I wasn’t ready for a PhD straight after honours and had other good opportunities to pursue. I worked for the NSW government and then in bushfire research at the University of Wollongong. At UOW I was lucky to work alongside a few women, who had sage advice: parenting, study and work can all fit together but try to choose two at any one time. There was also one woman in our lab that completed her PhD with three sons in tow and she showed me that it was entirely achievable with the right approach. When I eventually started my PhD I was pregnant with my youngest. I knew that months of fieldwork wouldn’t work for me or my family (particularly as all our extended family is interstate) so I developed my PhD project accordingly, as smaller modules with manageable chunks of fieldwork.

In speaking with other women I’ve realised that there is a bit of a stigma around part-time work or study. A common assumption is that it indicates lower levels of commitment or ambition. This is so incredibly misguided. It takes a vast amount of commitment to navigate the complications of working life and parenthood! Over time I’ve learnt that this attitude usually reflects their own experiences or life stage, so it is best to be polite and move on. Learning where to invest your limited time and energy can be tricky, but like every other skill it gets easier with practice.

Like many of my peers I’ve been through phases of wondering if there is any point to navigating PhD pressures and family life. I worry that as a mum-and-part-time-PhD-student I am wasting time and resources that could be better invested elsewhere. I’ve wondered if I’d wasted too much time to have any relevance or impact in ecology in what seems to be an increasingly competitive field. A turning point was when someone mentioned Prof Jane Elith, the incredibly successful ecologist with a huge impact in ecology. I knew her work but I didn’t realise that she took a significant career break (over 10 years!) to have children and has worked part-time most of her career since. Just hearing this helped to put all those doubts into perspective. I certainly don’t compare my work to Jane Elith’s work, but stories like hers provide proof and encouragement that non-standard career paths are valid and worthwhile.

Dr Jen Martin - Senior Lecturer in Science Communication, The University of Melbourne.

We’re standing on Pajinka, the northern-most point of the Australian mainland. The sun is warm on my face, the wind smells wonderful and I’m beyond grateful to be here with my family.

As a parent, I spend a lot of my time thinking about the sort of people I hope our kids will grow up to be. Kind, thoughtful, ethical people who have the courage to stand up for what’s right and what they believe in. People who will make a positive contribution to the world and their communities and who understand that looking after our planet is a shared and essential responsibility.

As a parent, I also agonise over the decisions we make about our kids’ childhoods – where we live (in the city) and how we spend our time. What are we modelling to them, and what are they learning each day about what makes a life well lived?

But amidst all the thinking, worrying and reflecting, there’s one thing I keep coming back to.

As long as our kids are spending time in nature, we’re doing something right. For me, nature is where I find peace, calm, adventure, curiosity and wonder. Nature reminds me both how insignificant I am, but also how important my decisions about my impact on the planet are.

I believe spending time with our kids in nature is one of the best things we can do - walking our dog in our local parks and reserves is one of our favourite family activities. One of the hardest parts about spending so much of last year in lockdown was not being able to head to the bush further afield.

But sometimes you get the chance to do something really special. In 2015, my husband Euan Ritchie and I were fortunate enough to have the opportunity to take our kids on a BIG nature adventure. For more than three months, we camped and travelled through Cape York and the Einasleigh Uplands in Queensland and the Northern Territory while surveying for Antilopine Wallaroos as part of our Big Roo Count.

At the time there were a lot of challenges doing that sort of ecological field work with a 4- and 7-year-old. Getting up pre-dawn every day for animal surveys, spending hours in the heat doing vegetation surveys and driving long distances between field sites. But in hindsight, I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Sure, our kids got to see wild eclectus parrots, green pythons, cuscus, thorny devils, dingoes, and more. More importantly, they learned about the beauty and value of wild places and some of the work that goes into trying to protect it. It’s an enormous privilege to be able to take your kids on a trip like that and to show them places most adults will never get to experience. And in case you’re wondering, yes: they both have many memories of the places we went, the people we met and the animals we were lucky enough to see! Our son’s reptile list has made many a herpetologist weep with envy!

There could definitely be worse things than having ecologists for parents.

Dr Tracey Steinrucken - Postdoctoral Fellow at CSIRO Health and Biosecurity.

I’m a mum of two young daughters. A fiercely independent, insect-loving 3-year-old, and a feisty strawberry blonde 1-year-old who still calls me “daddyyyy”. I’m halfway through a postdoc and I love my work. I aim to inspire my girls to be whatever they want to be. Right now, my 3-year-old is intent on being an engineer “like Elsa, because she built an ice castle all by herself”, and that’ll do for now!

I have always aimed to normalise parenthood in STEMM. While teaching at UQ and then QUT, I aimed to show my students that as a scientist, being pregnant or being a mum is totally doable and fun (even if your belly accidently wipes off all your notes on the lab whiteboard!). While there is still a long way to go in obtaining true gender equality in Australia and around the world, I feel like within my family we have managed to achieve this. My wildlife ecologist hubby (“dadda”) and I divide the domestic workload equally in all things and we both take Fridays off, so we have a long weekend with the kids every week. And despite not having any family nearby, we’re both lucky to work for family-friendly organisations with supportive colleagues and managers.

Unfortunately, the practicalities of juggling an academic career and motherhood, are real. Fitting into a lab coat at 8 months pregnant for one! The zombie-like tiredness after three months of 2-3 hours of interrupted sleep and then having to write papers, count insects or sit in team meetings. Expressing milk twice a day for a baby who refused to drink from a bottle. The exorbitant costs of childcare sometimes making it hard to justify working at all. Leaving work before your colleagues to make sure you get to childcare in time to avoid the extra fees (and because you miss your kids like crazy). Postponing fieldwork or compressing your time away to demand extreme efficiency. Attending an international conference with an eight-week old and trying to steer conversation to science rather than babies. And of course, the never-ending bouts of childcare sickness!

My advice for parents:

• Don’t be put off from applying for any job if you only want to work part-time. This should always be negotiable
• Learn to say no at work and at home. You don’t have to be the manager for your daughter’s under 5s soccer team, nor do you have to say yes to every ACTION item on that committee you’re on
• Share the load, ask for help, reach out
• And finally, take a mental health day once in a while. For you, on your own, and don’t feel guilty that the kids are at childcare/school while you’re getting your hair cut for the first time in a year

Finally, do the crazy things, like taking a toddler to Yellowstone National Park in the US, for a 10-day camping trip, while pregnant. Because they’ll forget that painful long-haul flight, but they’ll never forget that bison!

Emma Carlson - Field Ecologist, Parks and Conservation Service, ACT Government.

It is challenging balancing any career with parenting, but add on early starts, walking around in the field all day in a range of weather conditions, and full-on work schedules in a dynamic environment, and it can sure make things interesting! I began my ecological career at age 19, first studying biology at Charles Sturt University, then moving cities to attend the University of Canberra to complete a Bachelor of Science degree and going on to complete a Bachelor of Applied Science Honours studying the genetics of a local endangered reptile. I started my family whilst completing my Honours degree, and had my second child shortly after entering the workforce. When I was lucky enough to (finally!) secure a job in the highly competitive field of ecological jobs in Canberra three years ago, I was ecstatic. My two young children, aged 3 (Amelia) and 5 (Hunter) at the time, were so happy for mummy as they knew just how excited I was to embark on a career that I had wanted to do since completing my degrees – to be an Ecologist doing important work with threatened species, which actually includes the species I studies for my Honours. My eldest child, Hunter, was particularly excited as he is very nature focused, has grown up around animals and has an absolute fascination with all creatures, and now wants to be an Ecologist "just like mum". I am so fortunate to be in a job that I love, working with such a great team, with amazing plants and animals, contributing to real-world conservation work, and being able to share my experiences with my children to pass down my ecological knowledge and love of nature to future generations. As a bonus, I get to spend so much time outside and as a result (despite sometimes having tired legs!) my health and wellbeing has certainly benefited. For all of the challenges it may present, I feel that these are far outweighed by the positives of working in conservation with threatened species and ecological communities, and I would advise any mother that jumping into a career in ecology is well worth it and you can absolutely make it work whilst maintaining your status of being a great mum.

Dr Susanna Venn - Senior Lecturer, Centre for Integrative Ecology, Deakin University.

“Do we have to go away for your fieldwork again, it’s the school holidays, it’s supposed to be a holiday for us, where we get to sit around and relax…”

Yes.

“Where are we going anyway?”

To the Bogong High Plains, staying at Falls Creek.

“Is that where the there’s fish in the water, in those channels?”

Yep.

“Oh, I love that place, awesome, when are we leaving?”

In the morning, let’s pack up some books and toys and stuff to keep you occupied in the car…

***

Can you help me carry stuff to the car?

“No, I’m gonna sit in here until we’re leaving”

***

“How long till we get there…?”

About 6 hours

“What!!! You said it was only 5 hours away, and that was 5 minutes ago…”

But we had to drop the dog off with the grandparents, and that took us a while.

“Are we going to the rocket ship playground in Benella?”

Of course!

***

“I’m hungry, is there anything to eat?”

You’re sitting right next to all the car-snacks, help yourself.

“I feel sick…”

Hmmmm maybe you ate too much before the twisty mountain road...

“Pull over!”

***

Ok, are you coming with me today, to help find some field sites for my students?

“If I have to…”

You don’t have to, but it will be fun, there might even be some snow hanging around.

“Snow? Still? I’m definitely coming…”

***

“You didn’t tell me the site was so far away… I’m too tired to keep going.”

***

“Ooohhh, a skull! “What animal do you think it is? Can I keep it?”

Hmmm it looks like a cow, with those horns. Must have been here for a while, maybe from some lost and lonely animal – cattle haven’t been up here since 2005.

“It’s too heavy…”

I’ll strap it to your pack. If you want to keep it, you have to carry it!

“You promised snow, there’s none here.”

I said there ‘might’ be snow. Let’s keep walking.

“I’m too tired, we have to stop here…. Ooohhh I love this plant, its so soft…”

Yep, it’s a favourite of mine too – silky snow daisy, Celmisia sericophylla.

“Can I take some with us?”

We have to leave it here, its super rare and only grows where it’s wet like this, where it gets meltwater from snow – maybe there’s some snow remaining up the hill here.

“I can’t walk up there, that’s way too steep!”

Well, if there’s any snow left, that’s where it will be…

“WoooHooo! There’s some snow…!!! Let’s go!”

***

“How far did we walk today?”

Ok, let’s see, we went from the dam wall, up Heathy Spur, up to Mt Nelse, down to the big grassland where you found the skull, then back along this track to the car. Maybe about 15kms.

“I’m so tired”

Yep, you’ll sleep well tonight…

“Can we come back up here again tomorrow?”

I might need your help with cutting biomass tomorrow…

***

My eldest son has endured many research fieldtrips and a few teaching fieldtrips. He has vomited due to car-sickness on mountain roads, found skulls, avoided snakes, been to snowpatches in January, fished trout in the aqueducts around Falls Creek, helped collect data and pulled out tape measures and quadrat frames. Camped with honours and PhD students, bumped his head on the sides of the child-seat while four-wheel driving to field sites.

Its fun, hard work, super challenging, but ultimately rewarding if you can combine parenting and fieldwork. Give it a go.

Professor Angela Moles (FRSN) - Director, Evolution & Ecology Research Centre, School of Biological, Earth and Environmental Sciences, UNSW.

Being a mum has been far and away the best thing I have ever done – and being an ecologist is fantastic too. Combining the two is certainly a juggling act (I teach, do research and parent with another ecologist, so work-life separation is pretty non-existent in our house), but I really have no idea how people with “regular” jobs actually manage parenting – the degree of flexibility we have in academia is invaluable.

I am not going to drop too many pearls of wisdom about how best to balance academia and parenting – because my main advice is to take all advice with a grain of salt. Things that work for one parent or child don’t necessarily work for another. Since the literature on child development is even further from developing the equivalent of an ecological strategy scheme that perfectly predicts the best strategy for a given environment than we are, you just have to work out what works for your unique personalities as you go along.

As ecologists, we all know that there will be trade-offs involved in becoming a parent (no, not size/number trade-offs). I have no doubt that spending time with my kids has reduced the number of papers I have published. But do you know what? I don’t think I will look back at the end of my career and wish that I had written those extra papers.

I used to work stupidly long hours. I published a lot of papers, but had rubbish mental health. It has been really good for me to have enforced fun time in the evenings, weekends and holidays. It is also amazing to have a family to come home to on those days where science hits the smite button and you get rejections/hit roadblocks.

Of course, it’s not all cuddles and sunshine. It is years since I was properly on top of things, and I have had to learn to do a passable rather than good job on some things (e.g., practicing my lectures fell by the wayside early on!). But I have learned to accept that and move on. And on that note – I am going to call this good enough, turn my computer off and go play Darwin’s Choice with my kids!

Image: Not a bad analogy for parenting while being an ecology academic - being swept along at speed with little control - and having a ball.