This week, I say goodbye to a very special little person — a child who has been with me for over three years. Since they were tiny. Since the early wobbly steps and sleepy snuggles. Since those first words, first drawings, first friendships.
And now… they’re off to school.
People often ask me how I do it — how I care so deeply, then let go again and again. And truthfully? Sometimes, I don’t know. Despite caring for hundreds of children over the years, nothing truly prepares you for the moment one of your children moves on.
Because in childminding, they really do become your own — not in name, but in heart.
We don’t just look after children. We grow with them. We witness them becoming. In a home-from-home setting like ours, where everything is small, familiar, and deeply personal, the bond becomes something powerful and lasting. They come through the door with tiny shoes and wide eyes… and somewhere along the way, they become woven into the fabric of your daily life.
And then one day — it’s time to let them go.
This isn’t just a goodbye. It’s the end of an era. It’s a turning of the page in both of our stories.
We’ve shared the ordinary magic of childhood — the muddy boots and sticky fingers, the scraped knees and belly laughs. We’ve navigated those big toddler feelings, celebrated the tiny milestones that mean the world, and found joy in the simplest of things. We’ve watched the seasons turn together — planting seeds, jumping in puddles, searching for bugs, reading the same stories again and again.
In this space, we’ve done more than learn.
We’ve lived.
And now they are ready. That’s the hardest part, and the most beautiful.
They are ready.
Ready for different challenges, bigger classrooms and new friendships. Ready to step into the next adventure with the confidence and security we’ve nurtured together. That readiness is a gift I’m proud to have helped shape. But that doesn’t make the goodbye any easier.
I’ll miss the giggles, the little hand reaching for mine, the way they knew exactly where the favourite toys lived. I’ll miss the way they called out my name, the way we had our own little routines and shared stories. I’ll miss the everyday presence of someone who became a part of my world.
And yet, this is what we’re here for.
Not just to hold, but to prepare.
Not just to love, but to launch.
To the child heading off on your next big adventure:
Thank you for trusting me.
Thank you for growing with me.
Thank you for letting me be part of your beginning.
You’ve left your footprints on my heart.
You’ll always be part of my story.
And I’ll always be cheering you on.
Guiding The Young Ones 
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