Category: Reflections

A space for honest thoughts, quiet moments and deeper musings on early years life and parenthood.

  • From My Heart to Yours — On Letting Go

    From My Heart to Yours — On Letting Go

    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.

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  • Not Built to Sit Still: Defending Childhood in an Age of Pressure

    Not Built to Sit Still: Defending Childhood in an Age of Pressure

    A Barefoot Conversation

    Why play, presence, and connection matter more than the DFE’s version of “school readiness

    A barefoot conversation with a ladybird.
    That’s what stopped me in my tracks.

    Tiny toes curled against the grass, a child crouched low and still—whispering gentle words to a ladybird resting on a leaf. No rush. No noise. Just awe. Just presence.

    And in that moment, everything made sense again. This is childhood. Not worksheets. Not school-readiness tick lists. Not quiet hands and still bottoms. But muddy feet, wonder-filled questions, and empathy blooming from the tiniest of encounters.

    We are raising little humans, not robots. And yet across the country, we’re asking four-year-olds to meet expectations built for older children. We’re asking them to sit before they’re ready, to read before they’re developmentally able — to achieve like an adult, rather than explore like a child.

    But the world doesn’t need more children who can sit still at four.
    It needs children who care.
    Children who feel.
    Children who notice the smallest creatures and imagine their stories.

    Because from these early acts of compassion — like chatting to a ladybird — come the roots of kindness, empathy, and responsibility for the world around them.


    What the Research Says

    We don’t have to guess what children need. Decades of child development research is clear: play is not a luxury—it’s a biological necessity.

    • The Harvard Center on the Developing Child highlights that young children learn best through active, joyful, and engaging experiences— not passive instruction.
    • The Alliance for Childhood and UNICEF advocate strongly for delayed formal schooling, with many European countries (like Finland and Sweden) beginning structured academic learning at age 6 or 7 — after a long foundation of play-based early years education.
    • Neurological studies show that movement, exploration, and connection are essential for developing executive function, emotional regulation, and long-term cognitive skills.

    Yet here in England, we’re still pushing four-year-olds (and younger) into formal classrooms. We’re turning play into a performance. Exploration into outcomes. And our children are paying the price.


    A Personal Reflection

    When I think of the children in my care, I think of the ones who can build entire worlds out of sticks and stones. The ones who soothe slugs and rescue worms. The ones who tell me, with complete seriousness, what the ladybirds are saying back.

    And I think of the quiet ones — the ones who thrive when they are not rushed. The ones who don’t always find sitting easy, but who can spend 40 minutes moving conkers from bowl to basket with deep, meaningful concentration.

    These aren’t children who are behind. These are children who are becoming.
    Children who are deeply engaged with their world.
    Children who will grow into compassionate, thoughtful, resilient humans — if we let them.

    And yet I see the increased pressure creeping in. From “school readiness” checklists. From misunderstood expectations. From a system that has forgotten what childhood is meant to be.


    The Bigger Picture

    This isn’t just a professional frustration — it’s a national concern. We are seeing a sharp rise in childhood mental health difficulties, and many professionals in the early years sector are sounding the alarm.

    Children today are growing up in a world that is louder, faster, and more pressured than ever before. Many are struggling with anxiety, attention difficulties, and burnout — at just four or five years old. And instead of responding with care and compassion, we are asking them to sit longer, try harder, be quieter. This is not developmentally appropriate. It is damaging.

    Every child learns in their own way. Some need movement to think clearly. Some need silence. Some learn through messy, sensory exploration, while others thrive in quiet, focused play. They are not carbon copies. They are not data points. And they are certainly not “failing” because they can’t yet conform to adult-driven expectations. If we truly care about children, then their wellbeing, mental health, and right to a childhood must become our top priority — not optional extras squeezed in between phonics and fine motor worksheets.

    Why are we ignoring the mountain of evidence? Why are we still using outdated models of achievement when the world (and the child) has changed?

    It’s time we remembered: school readiness isn’t about sitting still. It’s about being secure, curious, and emotionally equipped to handle new environments. And we build those foundations through love, play, and presence — not pressure.


    A Call to Action

    Unfortunately, we can’t wait for policymakers to catch up — because far too many of the people making decisions about children have little understanding of child development and seem unwilling to listen to those who do. The system won’t fix itself. But we can be the change, from the ground up.

    Here’s how:

    • Speak up. Share your stories, your knowledge, your child-centred practice. Help shift the narrative from achievement to wellbeing.
    • Advocate. When conversations arise about “school readiness,” bring it back to what matters: secure attachments, emotional literacy, and developmentally appropriate expectations.
    • Connect. With parents, with educators, with community leaders. The more unified our voice, the harder it is to ignore.
    • Protect play. Let children be barefoot. Let them talk to ladybirds. Let them carry sticks and ideas and questions. This is not time wasted — it is everything.

    Final Thoughts From an Educator

    One day, our children will look back on these years.

    Will they remember a world that rushed them, silenced them, and tried to make them smaller?
    Or will they remember being seen, heard, and cherished for exactly who they were?

    That gentle whisper to a ladybird might just be the first step in raising a child who will one day protect the planet, comfort a friend, or stand up for what’s right.

    And that begins not with the DFE’s current version of readiness, as described by Bridget Phillipson…
    But by people who truly understand child development and with respect for childhood.

    So, let us be the ones who slowed down.
    Who knelt beside them in the grass.
    Who made space for joy, for wonder, for messy, magnificent becoming.

    Because when we protect childhood, we protect everything that matters.

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  • The Words We Choose: Language, Connection and Childhood

    The Words We Choose: Language, Connection and Childhood

    Not long ago, one of the children in my care was having a quietly difficult morning. There hadn’t been a dramatic outburst or any obvious signs of upset — just a certain stillness in their shoulders, a withdrawn glance, a subtle shift in their play. When I knelt beside them and gently asked how they were feeling, they paused, looked up, and with a quiet voice and simple Makaton signs, they told me: sad.

    In that moment, everything else faded. They trusted me enough to let me in — not with perfect grammar or complicated explanations, but with a small word and a few meaningful signs. And that was all we needed. I mirrored their words, offered comfort, acknowledged the feeling, and gave time. A few minutes later, after our quiet, respectful connection, they leaned in for a cuddle and told me they felt happy.

    Language in the early years is never just about words. It’s about connection, understanding, and helping children feel truly seen.

    Language as an Emotional Bridge

    From the very first gestures and babbles, communication is an emotional act. It’s how children reach out to connect — to be understood, to belong, to share their inner world. In early years settings, we are not just supporting speech and vocabulary; we’re nurturing confidence, trust, and the beginnings of self-expression.

    Whether it’s through spoken language, Makaton, body language, or imaginative play, every child deserves to be heard — in the way that makes sense for them. That means slowing down, tuning in, and remembering that listening is just as powerful as speaking.

    Supporting Early Communication

    A rich language environment isn’t one filled with endless chatter — it’s one full of meaning. Children need us to model language thoughtfully: describing what they’re doing, naming feelings, narrating the day in a gentle rhythm that helps them make sense of the world.

    In my setting, Makaton plays an important role. It gives children another way to communicate, especially when their speech is still developing or their emotions feel too big for words. It empowers them to be part of their world, not just observers of it.

    The Power of Children’s Voices

    Children are full of ideas, questions, stories, and feelings. Honouring their voices means creating space to hear them — not just when it’s convenient, but always.

    This might be pausing to really listen when a child is explaining their block tower, giving them the language to name a feeling, or simply validating their choices. Voice isn’t always verbal — sometimes it’s found in play, in art, in silence. But it’s always there.

    Respectful Narratives and the Language We Model

    Language shapes how we see others — and how they see themselves. That’s why I choose my words carefully when speaking about children, especially around them. I avoid labels, especially negative ones, and instead focus on behaviours, feelings, and needs.

    In the early years, most educators know the importance of moving away from words such as “naughty“. It’s far more constructive and respectful to focus on what a child is expressing through their behaviour — whether we’re encouraging something positive or gently guiding them away from something less helpful. Children are always more than a moment.

    Stories That Bring Us Together

    Books and stories are another powerful part of our language landscape. They build empathy, spark curiosity, and help children make sense of themselves and the world. We read every day — not just for literacy, but for connection. There is something quietly magical about a child leaning in as you read a well-loved book, their body softening as they lose themselves in story. These moments matter.

    A Final Thought

    The words we choose matter. They build connection, foster confidence, and create the emotional blueprint for how children relate to themselves and others.

    Whether we’re signing happy with a small hand gesture, whispering reassurance after a big feeling, or narrating a story in the garden, our language helps children feel safe, respected, and deeply understood.

    And that’s the beginning of everything.

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  • The Things They Teach Me

    The Things They Teach Me

    Lessons from little ones — and how they’ve helped me grow, too.

    When I began my journey in early years education, I stepped into it with open arms — ready to nurture, guide, and support children as they grew. Over the years, I’ve worked across many settings, met so many little personalities, and carried countless memories in my heart.

    But what I didn’t fully realise back then was this: the greatest growth wouldn’t just happen in the children I cared for. It would happen in me.

    With every setting I’ve worked in, every child I’ve met, every parent I’ve partnered with, I’ve learned something new — not just about early childhood, but about myself.

    And just as the children have been my greatest teachers, so too have the educators I’ve walked alongside.

    I’ve had the privilege of working with passionate, inspiring professionals whose creativity, care, and commitment have left a lasting mark on me. From the quiet strength of a calm presence to the playful spark of a well-timed idea — I’ve witnessed first-hand how powerful our impact can be when we’re connected and intentional in our practice. And like all of us, I’ve had moments that reminded me what I chose not to carry forward — lessons that nudged me closer to the practice I now hold dear. And I’m constantly reminded that when we learn from one another — the good and the hard — we grow stronger as a sector and better for the children we serve. It’s this shared journey of reflection, connection, and continuous growth that makes our work so meaningful — and so worth celebrating.

    Becoming a parent changed everything again. It shifted my lens. It softened some parts of me, strengthened others. It gave me a deeper compassion, a new kind of patience, and a far greater understanding of just how much we hold — as caregivers, as humans — in the everyday.

    Children have become my everyday teachers.

    They’ve taught me to:

    • Slow down and see magic in the mundane — in the dance of leaves, the wonder of worms, or the joy of mixing mud.
    • Let go of perfection and find meaning in mess, beauty in the becoming.
    • Value emotions, not rush them away — to make space for feelings, and show up with empathy.
    • Keep growing, just like them — wobbly step by wobbly step.

    In their play, I see purpose.
    In their words, wisdom.
    In their trust, a reminder that this work we do matters deeply.

    We speak often of preparing children for the world — but the truth is, they prepare us for something, too. They awaken something in us: a gentleness, a presence, a purpose. Now, with each passing year, I realise how much I’m still learning — how much more whole I am because of the children and educators who’ve walked through my life.

    So, whether you’re a parent, an educator, or someone who shares space with children, I hope you remember this: you are shaping them, yes.
    But they are shaping you too — in the most beautiful, unseen ways.

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  • Filling Their Banks: How Tiny Moments Build a Kinder World

    Filling Their Banks: How Tiny Moments Build a Kinder World

    here’s a beautiful analogy I heard recently that’s stayed with me ever since. It came from Gable House Nursery, and it goes like this:
    Every child has a bank.
    As early years educators, we are responsible for filling it — with moments, memories, first experiences, and feelings that will shape their inner world for the rest of their lives.

    And when I heard that, I thought: Yes. That’s it. That’s exactly what we do.

    We may not always realise it in the rush of routines or the mess of muddy wellies — but every time we kneel down to listen, every time we sit beside a child in their joy or frustration, every time we make space for their questions, their wonder, their play — we are making a deposit.

    And these deposits matter. Because one day, when that child grows up and the world feels hard or uncertain, they’ll have something to draw on. A sense of worth. A memory of being loved. An instinct that tells them: You are seen. You are safe. You are enough.

    That’s the kind of investment we’re making.

    And perhaps more than ever, our world needs that.
    It needs children who grow up feeling emotionally full — so they don’t spend adulthood searching for what they never received. It needs children who’ve known kindness, patience and acceptance — so they can carry those things forward into their relationships, communities, and choices.

    Because when we fill a child’s bank, we’re not just shaping one little life — we’re shaping the future.

    But it’s not just about emotional deposits. It’s also about broadening their world — offering children meaningful experiences that build their sense of identity, connection, and possibility.
    This is the heart of cultural capital — those precious moments and encounters that help children make sense of the world around them, feel part of something bigger, and grow into themselves with confidence.

    So how do we do that? How do we fill these invisible banks in ways that truly last?

    These do not always need to be found in grand gestures or expensive outings.
    But with the tiny, ordinary, everyday things — and by offering children experiences they may never have had the chance to encounter before:
    • The thrill of splashing in a muddy puddle for the very first time.
    • The wonder of holding a snail, planting a seed, or mixing a cake from scratch.
    • The discovery of new words, new stories, new rhythms — shared across cultures and generations.
    • The joy of belonging — of being part of a celebration, a tradition, a shared moment of meaning.

    These are powerful forms of cultural capital — experiences that enrich, connect, and help children feel rooted in both who they are and who they’re becoming.

    They may also be found in those moments of connection, those moments that you show a child they truly matter, how much you care, and how special they are:

    • The warm eye contact when they tell a story.
    • The unhurried time spent spotting worms or clouds.
    • The quiet “I see you” in moments of struggle.
    • The comfort of routines, the spark of curiosity, the laughter that bubbles up mid-play.
    • The way we believe in them — even when they’re still learning how to believe in themselves.

    These are also the real riches of childhood.
    These are the moments that stay.

    We may never see the full impact of our work — not in certificates, not in test scores.
    But we see it in their joy, their growth, and the beautiful, kind-hearted humans they are becoming.

    So to all of you who show up for children — educators, childminders, parents, grandparents, key workers and co-regulators — thank you.
    Thank you for every tiny deposit. For every ounce of emotional labour. For every patient pause and playful invitation.

    You are building a kinder world.
    One connection, one moment, one full little bank at a time.

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  • This is More Than a Job – This is My Passion. 

    This is More Than a Job – This is My Passion. 

    Halfway through my tidy-down and reset for the next day, I was suddenly hit by a wave of emotion – an overwhelming feeling of contentment and gratitude.

    I paused and looked around our garden learning space. All around me were the beautiful remnants of the day’s joy, exploration and learning. I had just washed the paint off the Perspex easel and restocked the creative area. I thought back to the water play, where the children had dived deep into their undersea imaginative world and the creative masterpieces made in the kitchen.

    In my mind, I could still hear their giggles as they challenged themselves to jump in and out of the paddling pool under the afternoon sun. I smiled thinking about our alfresco tea time, sharing stories and favourite moments from the day. There were still pockets of play left to sort – cars carefully lined up in the construction area, sand resources scattered across the pit, wet clothes hung to dry and watering cans left where tiny hands had helped our garden grow.

    In that moment, I felt incredibly proud. Proud of what the children had achieved and proud of myself – for the time, effort and love I pour into creating a space where they can thrive. Behind every carefully chosen resource, every thoughtful enhancement, is the deep desire to meet each child right where they are – to support their interests, nurture their development and help them become their fullest selves.

    This is more than just a job.
    This is my life.
    This is my passion.
    This is early years.

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  • The First Days: What No One Tells You

    The First Days: What No One Tells You

    You’ve spent months preparing, reading, waiting. Then suddenly, you’re home – with your baby – and everything feels a little surreal. The moment you’ve been anticipating is finally here… but instead of feeling serene or “ready,” you might find yourself staring blankly, baby in arms, wondering: now what?

    No one really tells you just how disorienting those first few days can be.

    The Emotional Avalanche

    The first days are raw. They’re full of contradictions – love so huge it hurts, tears you don’t understand and a fog of exhaustion that makes the smallest things feel impossible. Your hormones are crashing and shifting. Your body is recovering from something monumental. Whether you’ve had a straightforward birth or, like me, needed emergency surgery and intensive postnatal care, your body has been through something big. And your heart is trying to keep up.

    After my youngest was born, I had to be separated from my eldest for a week while I recovered – a week that felt like a lifetime. I was in high dependency care, battling complications and relying on intravenous, topical and oral antibiotics for 12 weeks. It was a frightening time, physically and emotionally. I wasn’t depressed, but I cried – a lot, in fact, if we are being honest, I cried a lot after having my eldest and that was a much smoother journey… Great, heaving sobs that came from somewhere deep inside. My body was healing, my hormones were shifting, and my heart was holding more than it ever had before.

    And that’s the thing: you don’t have to be diagnosed with postnatal depression to struggle…. Sometimes, this time is just hard. That’s okay.

    Sleep Deprivation Is No Joke

    Let’s talk about the tiredness. The kind of tiredness that makes the hours blur, the tears fall faster and the world feel like it’s spinning just a little too fast. The tiredness that makes choosing what to eat feel like a strategic mission and makes you weep because you dropped a spoon.

    When you’re this sleep-deprived, everything feels bigger. Feeding challenges, a crying baby, a messy kitchen – these things can feel overwhelming not because you’re failing, but because you’re utterly depleted.

    Your Body: A New Story

    This part can be really tough, and it isn’t talked about enough. After birth, your body might feel like a stranger’s. It’s sore, tender, changed. Maybe you’re stitched, bandaged, leaking, or scarred. Maybe you’re still in shock. Even without complications, your body has grown and birthed a human – that is enormous!

    There’s sometimes an unnecessary pressure to “bounce back” or be grateful no matter what but it’s okay if you’re grieving the old version of yourself a little. It doesn’t make you any less strong, loving, or grateful.

    It’s Okay to Ask for Help

    You don’t need to do this alone. And even if you can, you shouldn’t have to.

    Help doesn’t always look like someone swooping in and taking over. It can be someone holding the baby while you shower, someone cooking a meal, someone sitting with you and letting you cry. I’ve been so fortunate to have incredible support – my Mum, Grandma, Auntie, and Sister, all stepping in before I even asked… Meals cooked, injections administered, babies rocked, messes cleaned. No task too big, no job too messy.

    Not everyone has a built-in village like that – and even when people do care, they might not know when or how to step in. People worry about interfering. Sometimes, you’ll need to ask. That’s not weakness – that’s wisdom.

    Routines Take Time

    Whether this is your first baby or your fourth, each addition changes the dynamic. Finding a rhythm is hard. It takes time and patience and often a bit of trial and error. Let go of the pressure to “have it all together” by day three. You’re all learning each other, and that’s a process, not a performance.

    You’re Doing Better Than You Think

    If you feel like you’re floundering – you’re not alone. This is a season of wild transformation. You are healing, learning, and loving in ways you never have before.

    There’s no perfect start. No perfect Mum (or Dad). Just you – showing up, loving hard and finding your way.

    And you know what? That’s more than enough.

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  • Things I Wish I Knew Before I Became a Childminder…

    Things I Wish I Knew Before I Became a Childminder…

    With childminder week fast approaching, I wanted to write an honest post about our incredible and invaluable sector. 

    There’s so much no one tells you about this job.
    Yes – it’s rewarding, joyful and full of those special “aww” moments…. But it’s also emotional, exhausting and requires you to be so much more than just someone who cares for and supports children’s development. Coming from an early years and education background, I thought I had a good handle on what to expect. I understood development, routines, learning through play… all of that. But stepping into childminding? Well that’s a whole different world and there were still so many things I had to learn the hard way and things I am still learning. 

    Here’s what I wish I’d known from the start:

    •  Your home becomes an early years setting… but it’s still your home. There’s a strange blur between professional and personal life – and learning how to protect both, to create healthy boundaries while still being present, takes time. It’s a journey of growth, adjustment and a lot of heart.
    •  There’s only you – Now this may seem fairly obvious but there’s no team to hand things over to – it’s just you! In those moments, when everything feels like it’s piling up, you realise just how much responsibility rests on your shoulders and while that can feel overwhelming at times, it also makes you appreciate the unique impact you have.
    •  You become part of a family’s village – It’s not just about the child – it’s building trust, communication and a real relationship with parents and family units too.
    •  The paperwork doesn’t stop! Even with experience, doing it solo is a different beast. Policies, safeguarding, funding and more – it’s a lot to hold alone.
    •  You’ll question yourself – often. Am I doing enough? Too much? Should I step in or step back? But those doubts are a sign you care deeply. They show that you’re invested in the well-being and growth of the children you’re guiding and is a quiet reminder of the love and dedication that drives you every day.
    • The small wins matter most. The first steps. Those little giggles. The Young Ones who tell you they are your best friend… That’s where the magic is!
    •  You’ll learn just as much as the children. About patience, child development, boundaries, connection… and especially about yourself!
    •  At times it can feel lonely. Especially when you’re the only adult around all day but there’s a whole community of childminders who get it – and they can lift you up when you need it most.
    •  Your home will never be the same… and honestly, neither will you. There’s mud sprinkled in the carpet, little fingerprints on the walls and their voices echo in your mind long after they’ve gone home. These children become so much more – they become family…. And even long after they leave, a part of you will always be cheering them on. 

    Despite the hard bits, the long days and the juggling act – I honestly wouldn’t change it! This work, this role, these little lives I get to be part of… they’ve brought me more joy, purpose and pride than I ever imagined! There’s something incredibly special about watching children grow and learn in a space that feels warm, safe, loved and truly theirs. 

    I feel so lucky to do what I do and so passionate about giving children a beautiful, meaningful start.
    It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it! 

    I equally take great pride in supporting other educators wherever I can and offering them the praise and encouragement they rightfully deserve… To anyone just starting out: you’ve got this! And to those who’ve been doing this a while – you’re amazing – Truly. 

    ❤️

    Let’s keep lifting each other up. 

    Send this to a childminder who deserves some love today.

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  • Q&A for Twinkl’s Outdoor Campaign

    Q&A for Twinkl’s Outdoor Campaign

    Rooted in Nature – How outdoor play, shapes our every day

    Can you describe a typical day in your setting?

    Our days are very much child-led, with The Young Ones taking the lead in their play – so no two days are exactly the same! The children have access to our continuous and enhanced provision and we offer play provocations and learning invitations inspired by the children’s current interests and relevant world events, which aim to support their development, celebrate diversity and create opportunities for them to explore and experience new things. That said, we do have consistent core elements woven into our routine, such as outdoor play, stories and daily self care, such as tooth brushing as part of our commitment to promoting positive oral health.  We also place great importance on nurturing mental health and emotional wellbeing and we ensure we include daily opportunities for exploring emotions, practicing simple mindfulness techniques, and engaging in calming activities like yoga and breathing exercises. One thing is for sure – every day is packed with fun and rich learning experiences for everyone- including for me!

    Have you always been an outdoor, nature-focused setting?

    We’ve always valued and spent plenty of time engaging in outdoor play and learning, knowing the countless benefits nature offers. However, over the past few years, my own understanding has deepened through personal research, which has led to an even greater integration of nature into our learning experiences, within our outdoor provision, our learning adventures and also, within our indoor environment too.

    Do you have a favourite memory of the children learning something unexpected outdoors?

    I have so many cherished memories of The Young Ones discovering unexpected things during outdoor learning – because, as we know, children often take their own learning in surprising and delightful directions! However, there is one that stands out and is still regularly talked about to this day by my Young Ones… On one of our nature walks, we discovered a lady bird, we counted it spots and then along came another one – they were different and we used some of our books and learning resources from our forest school backpack, to learn more about different types of ladybirds and we soon discovered more. By the end of our walk the children had independently counted 62 ladybirds and they still remember it to this day, despite the fact it was over a year ago! We continued our ladybird learning both indoors and outdoors and it was that day, that ignited a love for mini-beasts in a child who had previously been afraid of creepy crawlies. Days like these highlight the powerful impact we can have on children’s learning and confidence, while also nurturing a lifelong love for nature.

    How do you prepare for outdoor play in less-than-perfect weather?

    When “bad” weather hits – and let’s face it, we live in the UK, so it often does – it pays to be prepared! All the children here use waterproof suits and wellington boots (with other weather appropriate clothing/layers, as required) and I also have purchased in my own waterproof trousers and coat set because it’s no fun for us “big kids” when we are wet and cold too! When we explore in our local area, I always ensure I take our forest school backpack, which is packed up with all sorts of supplies to make our adventures more fun! To support us in our garden provision, I initially used a pop-up “all-weather” gazebo purchased from Amazon to provide shelter whenever the children wanted it and providing us with the opportunity to use resources that aren’t weatherproof. However, since we use our outdoor space so frequently for our learning, I’ve recently invested in a permanent wooden gazebo and we have been thoroughly enjoying this enhanced space, no matter the weather!

    What are your top tips for encouraging reluctant children (or parents!) to embrace outdoor play?

    I’ve always found that tapping into a child’s interests and bringing those interests outdoors is a great way to introduce outdoor learning – especially for those children who aren’t used to spending time outside. It can be something as simple as taking toy cars into the garden or as imaginative as going on a Gruffalo hunt in the woods! Whatever sparks a child’s curiosity can be woven into outdoor experiences, helping to ignite those first steps toward a love of nature and the outdoors. 

    I am very lucky to currently have incredibly supportive families, who understand the importance out outdoor learning. However, I appreciate this is not always the case and I n my experience, parents can sometimes be a little trickier to navigate – haha! Joking aside, it’s really about helping families understand the many benefits of outdoor play while also addressing any concerns they may have. For instance, some parents might worry that children aren’t learning outdoors, but we can reassure them that learning not only continues but it often thrives in natural environments. Others may be concerned about the weather, and we can support them by ensuring children have weather-appropriate clothing and access to shelter when needed.

    Some educators feel put off by the idea of outdoor play because of the wet, the cold, or the effort of setting things up every day. What would you say to those providers? Do you have any top tips for keeping it simple and manageable?

    I believe that having accessible resources makes setting up for the day much easier, whatever the weather and season. That doesn’t mean everything needs to be out all the time – especially for those working in pack-away settings but there are plenty of creative ways to stay organised. For instance, small storage units can make a big difference, and they don’t have to be expensive! One of my storage solutions is a repurposed greenhouse, and another is simply a large plastic box with a lid. 

    It’s also important to be realistic and kind to ourselves. There will always be days when we need to keep things simple – and that’s perfectly okay. In my experience, some of the most valuable learning happens through the simplest forms of play. Just think of the joy children find in splashing through puddles or experimenting with different containers in water play. There’s real magic and learning to be found in those everyday moments!

    Any budget-friendly or unexpected materials you use regularly?

    Since starting my journey as a childminder and especially over the past year as part of my continued professional development – I’ve been focusing more on sustainability and environmental responsibility. I’ve become much more mindful about where I buy and source resources and the types of materials I bring into our setting. I’ve also made a conscious effort to reuse items where possible and to recycle what might otherwise be discarded – after all, one person’s trash truly can be another’s treasure!

    As well as some amazing educational retailers and small businesses, local car boot sales have been a fantastic place to find hidden gems and authentic, affordable resources that we’ve loved incorporating into our provision. There’s also so much joy and creativity to be found in everyday items, like using old flowers in water play, adding used teabags to the mud kitchen, or repurposing old CDs for light and sensory play. I always recommend using open-ended, natural loose parts such as sticks, stones, pinecones, and more, in both indoors and outside learning environments. Reaching out to local businesses can also be incredibly rewarding and we’ve received generous donations like a tree stump from a local tree surgeon and tyres from our village garage and added these to our outdoor provision.

    We know you have done lots of training and have many awards, which are you most proud of?

    This is a difficult question, as I’ve gained so much from my training, which I have applied in my setting. However, I would have to say that achieving both Gold and Platinum award statuses from the Woodland Trust and officially earning the title of a ‘Platinum Green Tree School’, has been one of my personal favourites, as nature plays such a crucial role in early years development and is a massive part of our curriculum and pedagogy at The Young Ones. Whilst completing this award, I have also been involved in more training which I hope to have completed that soon and I will be sharing more about that over the coming months.

    Overall, I believe the diverse training I’ve completed has enabled me to focus on enhancing both our learning environment and my practices, ensuring that I can continually develop and provide the best experiences and educational opportunities to help my Young Ones thrive. 

    What would you say to other Early Years educators who want to get outside more but don’t know where to start?

    Start simple and start small… There’s no need to overwhelm yourself by trying to change everything all at once. Begin by taking some activities your children enjoy indoors and bringing them outdoors or take walks around your local area, encouraging the children to really engage with their senses – talking about what they can see, hear, touch, and smell.

    If you have an outdoor space (like a garden) that you would like to develop, start by focusing on one area to adapt or enhance. Perhaps your little ones would love a mud kitchen, or maybe they enjoy water play and you could build on the resources they use? If you enjoy or would like to start going on nature adventures, I would also recommend putting together a little backpack or bag, with some some of your favourite nature inspired resources – such as books, magnifying glasses, binoculars and/or any other treasures you desire, so you’re ready to explore whenever the urge to venture strikes. 

    What impact has outdoor play had on your wellbeing as an educator?

    It’s a well-established fact that nature and fresh air offer numerous benefits for the wellbeing of people of all ages and as an educator, I have only seen positives to all of us here at The Young Ones. Being outdoors allows me to connect with nature, which helps reduce stress and recharge my energy and be fully present with the children. Outdoors, every child has the freedom to move, explore, and experience a true sense of autonomy in their learning. This approach provides more opportunities for self-expression and supports the development of their physical, cognitive, and creative skills, helping them become deeply engaged in their learning process and making teaching easier and more enjoyable.

    The natural environment also provides a refreshing change of pace from indoors, offering more moments of calm, reflection and inspiration for us all. I highly recommend that all educators and settings embrace the outdoors and incorporate nature-based learning into your provision, in any way possible – you’ll not only support children’s development but also experience the benefits yourselves.

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