Behind the Scenes

I think about the families who come to my sessions more than I really talk about. More than I post about.

The planning doesn’t stop when the session ends. I’m still thinking through ideas while cooking dinner or out walking with my kids. A conversation I had, something I noticed, a small moment I don’t want to forget.

I check in with myself often.

Did today feel right?

Did it land the way it needed to?

Did the parents feel like this was a space they could settle into?

Did the kids find something they enjoyed?

I want to get the energy right. I want it to feel easy to join, easy to stay, easy to socialise.

When someone shows up, I hope they feel like they’ve arrived somewhere that welcomes them properly. A place where their child feels like they belong and parents feel supported too.

I think about the kids a lot. Whether they had a moment of connection, something that made them light up, even for a minute.
And I think about the parents just as much.

During sessions, I always check in. I speak to every child by name. I talk to every parent. I pay attention to the little things. I notice body language, the way someone holds themselves, the tone in their voice when they respond.

I’ve been to places where I felt unsure if I belonged. Even though there were other families around, I still felt on the outside. I never want anyone to feel that way here.

So I start conversations. I ask questions. I look for shared interests or stories I can link between people. If I know two families who both love camping or live near each other, I’ll gently introduce them. It’s small, but it matters.

Sometimes all it takes is one connection.
That’s why we use our village prompts too. A simple sentence to help break the ice.

I know how hard it can be to make friends as a parent.

Over the years, parents have told me things that have stayed with me. That their child made their first real friend here. That it was the first time their child played without clinging. That they felt more confident after only a few sessions. Some have told me this is the only place they go where they feel like they can truly be themselves. Where no one expects them to be any different. That kind of feedback is never small to me. I carry it, and I hold it close.

Even after I’ve packed everything away, I still find myself going back over it.
What worked today?
Did I make time for everyone?
Is this space doing what I hoped it would?

That kind of care stays with me.

Running a small, heart-led business comes with layers.

The emails, the messages, the gear prep, the budgeting, the organising, the backup plans.

It’s emotional work. It’s admin. It’s both at once.

Even with the mental load it brings, I wouldn’t trade it.

I’ve built this slowly, with care. And every decision I make comes back to the same question:
Will this help people feel like they belong?

Because I know how much courage it can take to show up.
I know what it feels like to walk into a group and wonder if you’ll be included.
I know how isolating it can feel when you’re parenting without a strong support network.

That’s why I care so deeply about making this space feel soft around the edges.
Not just for the kids, but for the grown-ups too.

Sometimes there are harder moments. and I try to meet those moments with respect.

I listen, I respond, I hold space. I want people to feel safe bringing things up. That matters to me just as much as the fun parts.

It can be a lot to carry. The thinking, the doing, the emotional labour that builds quietly between the sessions.
Even so, I wouldn’t want to do it any other way.

The space gives something back, always.
I leave sessions feeling better than I arrived.
My body might be tired, but my head is clearer. My chest feels lighter.
The connection, the nature, the kids. It all reminds me why I do this.

This is the kind of work I want to keep doing. The kind that feels like more than just a job.

It matters.

I hope it’s landing in the way I intend.

And I’ll keep showing up with care, reflection, and effort, because that’s how much I value the families who come.

Even when the questions linger.

Even when the day’s done. I know why I’m here.

And I’m glad I get to do this.