Practical ideas, reflective insights and nature-led inspiration for educators who want to do less — and do it more meaningfully.
Winter often brings big energy in little bodies — and just as much deep tiredness in the adults who care for them.
The days are darker. Outdoor time shifts. Routines change. Clothes feel heavier. Transitions feel harder. Emotions seem closer to the surface.
And suddenly, we start seeing:
More restlessness
More emotional outbursts
More impulsive behaviour
More children who just can’t seem to settle
But what if what we’re witnessing isn’t “challenging behaviour” at all?
What if it’s the nervous system asking for support?
This is where heavy work becomes one of our most powerful winter tools.
Heavy work is often misunderstood as simply a way to “wear children out.”
But in reality, it plays a far deeper role.
Heavy work supports the proprioceptive sensory system — the system that tells the body:
Where it is in space
How much force to use
How to feel grounded and secure
When children push, pull, carr...
While everyone around you is immersing themselves in all things Christmas — fitting in ballet, swimming, gymnastics, parties, pantomimes and festive events — you might be feeling the quiet pull to… stop.
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And that’s okay.
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Enjoying the Hygge way of living is all about being gentle and kind to yourself and those around you. It’s also about knowing when to say no to the things that quietly drain your energy, even when they look joyful on the surface.
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After a full-on week of starting festivities at school, organising Elf on the Shelf, Christmas discos, putting decorations up and trying to squeeze everything in, it’s possible to deeply love Christmas… and still desperately need some quiet.
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You may notice you’re exhausted. That your patience feels thinner than usual. That you’re being short with the children — not because you don’t care, but because you’re expecting too much of them when they are already doing their very best to cope.
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Christmas Through the Eyes ...
Every year, around this time, I start having the same conversations with early years educators.
The exhaustion creeps in.
The noise levels rise.
Children seem more emotional, more reactive, more tired.
And practitioners are quietly running on empty.
After more than 20 years in early years education, leading teams, supporting settings and now as a mum myself, I've come to realise something important:
December isn't just busy for children.
It's busy for us too.
Because in the run-up to Christmas, we're not simply teaching.
We're holding emotions.
The glitter is out.
The routines wobble.
The excitement builds.
The tears arrive more quickly.
The behaviour feels bigger.
And often, we become the emotional regulation system for an entire room of children.
You can feel it in your bones.
It's beautiful.
It's magical.
And it's utterly exhausting.
I remember feeling this when I was leading a setting. We'd reac...
A conversation I have with educators time and time again goes something like this:
"I know this child needs more play... but they're on three intervention groups."
And every time, it makes me stop and think.
After more than 20 years working in Early Years education, leading a school from inadequate to outstanding, supporting hundreds of settings and studying Scandinavian approaches to childhood, I've noticed something that doesn't sit comfortably with me.
The children who are struggling the most are often the children spending the least amount of time playing.
The very thing that could support their language, confidence, wellbeing, relationships and learning is often the first thing taken away.
If you've ever looked at your intervention list and felt your heart sink, you're not alone.
Phonics group.
Fine motor intervention.
Speech and language support.
A catch-up maths activity.
Another phonics recap.
And be...
As the darker days draw in, it’s so easy to find ourselves rushing — from one task to the next, from one demand to another.
The mornings are darker, the afternoons shorter, and somewhere in between we’re still expected to keep everything running with the same energy as September.
But what if this winter felt different?
What if instead of pushing through, we slowed down — and listened to what the season is gently asking of us:
to rest, to restore, and to reconnect.

In Scandinavia, winter is not seen as something to endure, but something to embrace.
It’s a time for gathering closer, lighting candles, creating warmth through connection, and finding joy in the small, ordinary moments.
They understand that our energy isn’t meant to stay the same all year round — and that slowing down isn’t a sign of weakness.
It’s wisdom.
Our bodies, minds, and hearts need different rhythms in win...
And I paused.
I found myself wondering: What does his future look like?
How will the decisions we make as parents — about how he’s educated — allow him to keep following what lights him up?
How will education give him the freedom to pursue his own creative discoveries?
The education system we have today doesn’t always recognise, value, or appreciate the beautifully unique ways all brains see the world.
And yet, so many of the people who have shaped our world — Albert Einstein, Isaac Newton, Greta Thunberg — were not traditional learners. They thought differently. They were different.
So perhaps the problem isn’t with children at all.
Perhaps the problem is the way we view childhood.
Instead of preparing children for work, shouldn’t we be preparing them to find j...
As early years educators, we pour so much of ourselves into our work. Some days feel full of energy and inspiration; others feel heavy or simply exhausting. Here’s a gentle truth: when we feel excited for the day—even about one small thing—that energy flows to the children. Our mood is contagious.
I love dropping my little wildling at nursery and hearing, “We’re going blackberry picking today!” or “Come and see what I’ve brought to learn more about aquariums!” That kind of attitude oozes excitement and tells a child their day will be full of wonder.
Before you step into the classroom, take a moment for yourself.
Enjoy a warm drink in peace, by a window or outdoors.
Write one intention for the day: “I’m going to notice children’s joy in play,” or “I’m taking my maths session outside today.”
Put on a favourite playlist or take a mindful walk.
When you start nourished, you arrive with presence.
Choose one element of the environm...
One of the simplest ways to bring this shift is by stepping outdoors. Nature has an incredible way of grounding us—slowing our pace, calming our minds, and opening our eyes to the magic in the everyday. And the best part? Learning in nature doesn’t demand endless resources or preparation. The forest floor, the hedgerow, and even the schoolyard are already brimming with invitations to play. Less equipment means less tidying up, leaving more time for what really matters—being present with the children.
Slowing down doesn’t mean doing less—it means doing with more intention. A slow pedagogy invites us to follow children’s interests, to notice what captures their hearts and mind...
Imagine a space where children can dig in the soil, water seeds, pull up carrots, and taste sun-warmed strawberries they’ve grown themselves. Allotments offer just that—a living, breathing classroom full of opportunities for play, discovery, and connection.
In the early years, play in an allotment setting is about so much more than gardening. It nurtures the whole child—physically, emotionally, socially, and cognitively—while fostering a deep relationship with nature and the rhythms of the seasons. We love visiting our friends allotment and noticing the seasonal changes. It's such a beautiful space to slow down and be present in the moment without the distraction of toys, noise and too much.Â
Allotment play provides rich opportunities for developing both fine and gross motor skills. Digging, carrying watering cans, planting seeds, and pulling up vegetables all strengthen muscles and coordination...
Walk into a typical early years classroom and you might see rows of chairs tucked under tables, ready for the day’s activities.
But step into a Hygge-inspired space and you’ll notice something different… there aren’t many chairs at all.
And that’s no accident.
In a Hygge setting, children aren’t confined to one seat. Instead, they have the freedom to move, curl up, kneel, or sprawl out as they follow their curiosity. This flexibility isn’t just about comfort — it’s about supporting how children naturally learn and interact with the world.
Fewer traditional chairs means:
🌿 More room for open-ended play — spaces can shift and adapt to children’s needs.
đź’› Cosy, home-like corners where children feel safe and settled.
🧠Movement that supports focus and wellbeing — little bodies learn best when they can change position often.
Rather than neat rows o...