Tag: childminding

  • Suspended, but Silenced: The Hidden Weight of Childminding 

    Suspended, but Silenced: The Hidden Weight of Childminding 

    Recently, I received a heartfelt message from a fellow childminder. Their words have stayed with me, not only because of the pain behind them, but because they shine a light on something rarely spoken about — the quiet, terrifying vulnerability many childminders live with.

    They described how, from one day to the next, their setting was suspended by Ofsted while an investigation took place. They had no warning. No timeframe. No explanation. Overnight, their business was closed, their income stopped, and their world thrown into chaos.

    And here’s the hardest part:
    they didn’t even know why.

    Weeks passed before any details were shared. In that time, bills still needed to be paid. Children and families still needed care. But the childminder was left in silence, unable to work, unable to defend themselves, unable to plan for what lay ahead.

    And this isn’t even an isolated case! I’ve received several emotional messages from heartbroken and desperate professionals — many who have now left the sector entirely. This is especially painful in a sector already stretched thin. We cannot afford to loose more passionate educators who make such a profound difference to children’s lives.

     The financial toll

    For employed people, suspension pending investigation usually comes with pay and a clear process. For self-employed childminders, there is nothing. No salary. No safety net. Insurance payouts, where available, barely touch the loss. Meanwhile, the weeks — and sometimes months — drag on.

    The emotional toll

    Imagine being dedicated to your work, pouring your heart into children every single day, only to find yourself labelled “under investigation.” And the truth is, it can happen to anyone. It doesn’t matter how committed you are, how high your standards are, or even what Ofsted rating you hold — every single childminder is vulnerable. You’re not told what for, or when it might be resolved. You just sit in limbo. Fear creeps in. Sleep disappears. Anxiety grows. And the isolation is crushing, because unlike those in larger settings, we have no team to lean on.

    Even after the investigation ends — and many are unfounded — the scars remain. Rebuilding confidence, rebuilding trust, and rebuilding your business after months away is not easy.

    The professional toll

    And yet this is a reality many childminders face. As one childminder who wrote to me said so clearly:

    “We are left completely alone to navigate a horrible time with no clear rules, no timeframe, and no support.”

    Why this matters

    This absolutely isn’t about resisting safeguarding — it’s about recognising that child safety and professional wellbeing can and must go hand in hand. Protecting children will always be paramount. It has to be! But safeguarding and fairness should not be polar opposites.

    We need:

    • Clear timeframes so investigations cannot drag on indefinitely.
    • Financial protections so childminders are not left destitute while waiting for outcomes.
    • Mental health support to help childminders cope with the stress and fear of suspension.
    • Accountability from governing bodies who hold our livelihoods in their hands.

    Because right now, childminders are left carrying all the risk, with none of the protections an employed worker would expect.

    The bigger picture

    It’s easy to overlook the hidden pressures childminders face. Parents and families see us as warm, nurturing, flexible care for their children — which we are. But behind that is the stark reality: we shoulder everything alone. No sick pay. No holiday pay. No HR support. No big team behind us.

    When a suspension happens, it isn’t just a business that suffers. It’s families left without care. Its children suddenly pulled from familiar routines. It’s livelihoods thrown into question. And it’s individuals — passionate, dedicated professionals — left broken by a system that shows them no compassion.

    If employers are expected to support their staff during suspension, why should childminders — who form the backbone of childcare for so many families — not be given the same respect?

     A call for change

    If inspections and investigations are truly about safeguarding, then the process should safeguard everyone involved, not destroy those who dedicate their lives to children.

    Childminders love their work. But love alone cannot carry the weight of financial ruin, sleepless nights, and months of uncertainty. We need systems that are just, compassionate, and accountable.

    Until then, too many will live in fear of the “what ifs” — and too many may decide the risk is simply too high.

    Because behind every suspension is not “just a childminder”.
    It’s a human being.
    It’s a family.
    It’s a life turned upside down.

    And that cannot be the price of of a system that protects children in theory, but leaves the adults who care for them unprotected in practice.

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  • 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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