All in a day's play

‘Your job is so easy—all you do is play!’ Right, let me stop you right there! Yes, it may seem part of my job is to play but that’s only a very small proportion of what my job comprises. Every day, I am not only a nursery nurse but: a baker; a cleaner, a waiter; an entertainer, a story teller, a naturalist; I am a nappy changer, a comforter, a peacemaker; a nurse, and a speech therapist— but most importantly, I am an educator. Working with early years is one of the most important jobs in the world for we are in fact inspiring the future, but unfortunately, all we will ever be to others are glorified babysitters.

Quite honestly: deciding to work with early years children is the best decision I’ve ever made and it has shaped who I am. My heart and soul were not made to be cooped up in a cramped, uninspiring office—even the thought of that is nauseating. I have been working in childcare for five years and even though I’ve already experienced so much, it still feels as if I haven’t even scratched the surface. Every single day is different; you never really know what to expect and working with up to twelve toddlers really is a skill. I am the room leader of the toddler room in a private nursery in the heart of the Cotswolds and I love my job—I really, really do—I’ve worked hard to get to where I am today.

But working in childcare isn’t quite the 9 to 5 job you’d expect. Sure, we open at 8.00am and close at 5.30pm, but that’s only our opening hours— working hours for nursery nurses are extensive. I spend copious time outside ‘work hours’ catching up, thinking about work or expanding my knowledge of childcare—in fact, I can’t remember the last time I read a book that was fiction! It is paramount that my qualifications are up-to-date: safeguarding and child protection, first aid, food hygiene, and British values to name a few. There are several hours spent unpaid at these training courses, usually provided to us at the weekend. We host mandatory parents’ evenings twice a year, which involve hours of our evenings spent discussing up to twenty different children’s development—unpaid. There are even some days where I don’t get a lunch break because I am required to be in ratio with the children. I go home worried sick about little Johnny’s sickness bug or little Timmy’s bump. I spend a lot of my time at home preparing resources for activities because there just isn’t the time to do so within work hours, and then—before I know it—it’s Monday again.

There’s also a huge amount of paperwork involved in childcare. We write in learning journals, provide daily observations, yearly reports, two-year checks, ECAT (Every Child a Talker is a national project to develop language and communication) forms and individual planning. Then there’s the monthly planning, risk assessments, accident forms, health care forms, ongoing medicine forms and parental permission forms. We’re required to create monthly displays and topic boards but most importantly, we must ensure that our knowledge of the Early Years Foundation Stage is up to date in order for us to do all of the above. I can recite the seven areas of learning and the best activity to promote learning for each area in my sleep.

We as educators have a duty of care to ensure that learning is taking place every day. On top of the paperwork, we have to remember individual dietary requirements and allergies for each child, ensure children have produced birthday or anniversary cards for their families and remember which children have time limits on their sleep.

Then, there are the parents. There are times where working with parents is the hardest part of the job.

I understand that everyone needs to work and earn a living, however, I cannot comprehend a parent’s anger and lack of concern when their child is required to leave nursery due to an illness. They bring their children into nursery knowing full well that they are poorly, sign in some Calpol and bobby off, leaving their usually happy-golucky child a sick, emotional wreck. When the inevitable time comes where we have to ring to tell parents to come and collect their sick child, 99 times out of 100, they argue and suggest they will sleep off their 38.9-degree temperature!

There are parents who hand their children over, proudly announce that they’ve just soiled their nappy and possibly leaked all over their vest, and then proceed to stroll out the door because it’s no longer their problem. My personal pet peeve regards potty training. I’ve had parents express their desire for their child to start toilet training but also their own personal disinterest in guiding them through the process. The number of times I’ve had parents tell me that they’ve put their child back in a nappy because they were having too many accidents and they can’t deal with the washing is a disgrace. ‘I just don’t have the time or headspace to deal with potty training’ is an unfortunately common phrase. We often do our jobs and theirs.

We provide a warm, caring environment for children to grow up in—we are essentially their second home. We’re not related in any way, shape or form, but that does not mean we aren’t family. I care very much about every single child that I look after. I watch them play, fight, learn and develop. I have seen them through all their moods: happy, sad, scared, angry, cheeky, stubborn and ill. I witness and support their achievements—they run and find me to tell me what they have done whether it be a wee on the potty, a painting of a purple monster or the discovery of a wriggly worm. I can understand their language and even translate it to their own parents. I am an expert in identifying many different types of comforters (no two dummies look the same to me). I am used to dealing with explosive nappies, wet pants and sickness bugs. I am exposed to all types of illnesses and infections, often without being able to take a sick day myself.

However, all the negatives are forgotten when you see the expression on a child’s face when they achieve what they believed they couldn’t.

There’s no possible way to describe the sheer feeling of elation you experience when twelve toddlers shout your name in greeting. Experiencing a child’s logical argument that he can ‘just superglue it back on’ after being told to stop playing with his winky because it’ll fall off is nothing short of hilarious. Watching twelve toddlers copy the exaggerated dance you invented to demonstrate how bees fly is a mixture of joy and pride. Witnessing a child expecting a baby sister feed and stroke a dolly brings tears to your eyes. Children really are the wonders of the universe. These children are etched into my heart and I will love them and care about them no matter how old they become.

I struggled to decide which angle to write this article from; in the end I chose to be as honest as possible. My job exposes me to both the sunshine and the rain; there are good parts and bad parts.

Do the pros outweigh the cons? It’s debatable— all I know is that the outcome of having a child bond with you is unlike any other.

I love working with children because although it can be tough, it is an extremely rewarding job. Helping children develop, blossom and create their own personalities is a unique experience.

They can help you see life from a different perspective and it is very refreshing to relive innocence, awe and imagination through the eyes of a toddler. But please, tell me again that my job is easy! ■

Kerrie Mitchell-Ross