I never got to fix my Baby Room…

Last week I told you about the moment I finally saw what was happening in my baby room.

The conveyor belt that felt so wrong, but I just didn't have the answers to fix.

And because life happened,

I never did get to fix it.

I left that setting before I could work out how to sort it. For a long time I assumed either, I'd got it wrong, or that there wasn't actually a fix. That Baby Rooms just... were like that. Everywhere. For everyone. And those that talked about their rooms being different were just lucky.

These days I work alongside nurseries at the other end of that journey. Settings that saw exactly what I saw, and then actually made the change. And for the first time, I've seen what happens when things change. I've seen how you take a baby room you're not yet happy with and make it into something REALLY special.

And it IS really special.

When it's working, I hear things like: "We haven't said Terrible Tuesday in a very long time."

Or "Our babies came back in after the break and, instead of a week of tears, they simply came in calmly as if to say, it's OK, I'm here now, I know this place, I know what happens here, I'm safe. This is good."

The other day I was talking to a setting that was created in the space after the previous nursery had been closed down because it was Inadequate. And she was explaining that in under two years, with a whole new team, they were rated a strong Good. Not only that, because of the things they had put in place, they had a system and a confidence in their practice that meant that when Ofsted knocked on the door unexpectedly, they were only too happy to invite them in, and in the words of the inspector "There was nothing to see here."

In practice, it looks like less money being wasted on resources, instead higher engagement and connection with the babies. Every single day.

My favourite, is probably the show-around; when mid-tour, an educator off of their own back, stepped out of the baby room and offered to keep a little one there while Mum saw the rest of the setting. Forty-five minutes later: one settled baby, and a mum who went home and signed up immediately.

Nobody sold her anything.

The team in the Baby Room made it happen.

Here's the thing that undid me a little bit, reading and listening to all of this.

None of these teams worked harder than mine did. Nobody handed them a bigger budget or a dream rota. My educators were brilliant. So, probably, are yours.

What they had, and what I didn't, was someone outside the room helping them see it clearly, and a way of changing things that came in tiny steps instead of one overwhelming overhaul. Week by week. One tiny change that sticks, then the next.

That is what I needed, all those years ago, standing in that room watching essentially, the chaos around me, at 5.45pm while my coffee went cold on the desk.

So, this series is me handing you what I never had.

Each week I'll take one thing I lived through as a manager, and show you what the settings who cracked it actually did.

And if you don't want to wait for the blog, two doors are open.

The First 1000 Days Matter Natter is a free 25-minute chat on the first Thursday of every month, for nursery managers and owners who lead baby rooms. You can sign up here.

And if you're further along than that, and September is on your mind, talk to Clare at Oliiki. The conversation you'll have with her is where every one of the stories I've just told you began. You can book a call here

Because if my story tells you anything, it's this.

Identifying the problem isn't failing. It's actually the first step of the fix.

I just didn't know the second step existed.

Now I do.