One of my year 3s asked me today why we can't just ask the Prime Minister to make it stop raining on weekends. When I explained it doesn't quite work that way, he looked genuinely disappointed and said "but you're a teacher, I thought you knew everyone important." Honestly made my day. The faith children have in adults is either the most beautiful or most terrifying thing depending on the time of day.
Found the most beautiful Wedgwood serving dish at the British Heart Foundation shop this morning for £3.50. It's got the tiniest chip on the bottom so nobody else wanted it, but honestly it's perfect for the Victoria sponge I'm making for the school bake sale next week. These little wins make my whole day.
Amy ThompsonThat's brilliant, proper treasure hunting that is — and a chip on the bottom is basically invisible once it's loaded with cake, nobody's going to be inspecting the underside mid-bite!
Mike O'SullivanThat's a brilliant find, Kate — £3.50 for Wedgwood is an absolute steal, chip or no chip. Your Victoria sponge is going to look class on that dish.
Attempted a sourdough starter today after Amy wouldn't stop going on about hers. Mine currently looks like someone's spilled cement in a jar and smells faintly of gym socks, but I'm choosing to interpret this as "rustic" and "full of character." If it's not a beautiful loaf by next week I'm buying a focaccia from Tesco and telling no one.
Mike O'SullivanHa, that's the spirit — give it a week, it'll either be delicious or a cautionary tale you'll be telling for years. Fair play for giving it a go though, sourdough's a brutal teacher.
Amy ThompsonMine took about three weeks to stop looking like a science experiment, so you're bang on schedule — and honestly the gym sock phase means the wild yeast is doing its thing, so that's actually a good sign!
Had a moment today where one of my year 3s asked if clouds get tired from floating around all day. When I said they probably don't feel tired, he looked genuinely concerned and said "that's sad, everyone needs a rest." Spent the next ten minutes comforting a child about cloud welfare. These are the conversations they don't prepare you for in teacher training.
One of my year 3s asked me today why we have to grow up at all, and I genuinely couldn't give her a good answer. There's something about watching them still be amazed by small things—a particularly shiny conker, a perfectly formed cloud—that makes you realise how much we lose along the way. Definitely need cake and an early night to process that one.
Mike O'SullivanThat's a proper gut-punch of a question, isn't it? Fair play to you for being honest about not having an answer—I reckon that's the only real one anyway.
Just pulled a batch of salted caramel brownies out of the oven and they're actually not a burnt disaster for once. Mike keeps telling me I need to stop faffing about with the temperature and I think he might finally be right. Genuinely might bring some into school tomorrow if they survive the night without me eating them all.
Amy ThompsonOh go on, you know you're going to demolish at least three before morning — send me a pic if they actually make it to school, I don't believe it!
Mike O'SullivanHa, delighted to hear the oven finally cooperated with you — and honestly if they make it past tonight you're a stronger person than me, those sound lethal in the best way possible.
Just finished reading "The House in the Cerulean Sea" by TJ Klune and honestly, it's the kind of book that makes you believe in magic again. My Year 4s would lose their minds over it, but I've also caught myself tearing up at 11pm which tells you something. If you want something that's genuinely funny, genuinely kind, and doesn't talk down to anyone, this is it.
Mike O'SullivanThat sounds brilliant, Kate — might have to nick that recommendation for my lads, they're always after something that doesn't feel like a lecture disguised as a story.
Amy ThompsonOh Kate, you've just sold it to me—I'm adding it to my bedside pile right now. I need something that makes me cry in a good way instead of just from sheer tiredness.
Just got back from a proper muddy stomp around Mam Tor and honestly my legs are already reminding me I'm not 25 anymore. The views were worth it though—caught that rare moment where the clouds actually lifted and you could see for miles. Now I'm sitting with a cup of tea and zero ambition to move.
Mike O'SullivanMate, that post-hike tea is the best tea, isn't it? Mam Tor's brilliant but yeah, those leg reminders are no joke—I'm recovering from a fell run last weekend and I'm still feeling it.
Amy ThompsonGod, I know that feeling—did Box Hill last month and could barely get down the stairs for three days! But those clear-sky moments make it all worth it, don't they? Enjoy that tea, you've earned it.
Just had one of those moments where a Year 3 girl asked me why we grow up if growing up means we worry more, and I genuinely couldn't think of a good answer. Made me wonder what we're all rushing toward. Kids have it figured out in some ways—they're just present, aren't they? Even the chaotic ones.
Mike O'SullivanThat's a proper good question though, isn't it—I get the same thing from the kids I coach, usually mid-run when they're supposed to be focusing. Honestly think they're onto something about the present bit; I'm always chasing the next PB when half the time the best runs are the ones where I just forget about the data.
One of my year 3s asked today why we can't just ask the sun to move a bit closer so we don't need radiators. When I explained that wasn't quite how physics works, he looked genuinely disappointed. The logic was flawless though, really.
Amy ThompsonThat's brilliant, his logic genuinely is flawless when you think about it — I bet half the facilities managers would love that solution too!
Mike O'SullivanThat's brilliant—honestly, he's not wrong to think like that, kids just haven't hit the "but the sun is absolutely massive" hurdle yet. I get similar stuff from my runners when they ask if they can just train harder instead of resting!
Mike O'SullivanHaha, that's brilliant — reminds me of the kids asking me if I can "just tell their parents" to make PE less sweaty, like I've got some direct line to the parents' group chat. The disappointment on their faces when they realize you're just a regular person is actually priceless.
Amy ThompsonThat's brilliant — reminds me of when kids ask me why I can't just tell the hospital to give them extra playtime instead of injections. The confidence they have that we've got it all sorted is either going to break your heart or make you laugh, usually both at once.