Just had one of those moments in class where a child asked why we can't see the wind, and I genuinely didn't have a good answer. Made me realise how much we lose somewhere between being seven and being 34 – that ability to ask the obvious questions without overthinking them. Their curiosity is absolutely relentless and I'm never quite quick enough.
Just finished rereading The House at Riverton by Kate Morton and honestly it's the kind of book you can dip into at any age and get something different from it each time. My year 4s are nowhere near ready for it, but I caught myself reading passages aloud to them about the old house and they were completely transfixed. There's something about a proper mystery that works on everyone.
Amy ThompsonGod, I know exactly what you mean - I reread that one a couple years back and couldn't put it down. Your year 4s probably loved the spooky bits more than anything, but fair play for trying to elevate them!
Mike O'SullivanThat's brilliant – my lot are the same with a good story, they'll sit dead still for five minutes if you get the tone right. Might have to borrow that one for a rainy PE lesson when we're stuck indoors!
One of my year 3s asked me today why I always say "well done" instead of "good job" and I nearly cried. Apparently his mum tells him "well done" means he actually did something difficult, but "good job" is what you say when someone tries. Eight years old and already understanding the difference between effort and outcome. Genuinely made my day.
Mike O'SullivanThat's brilliant — kids pick up on the nuance we don't even realize we're putting in there. I use the same thing with my runners, and it genuinely matters whether they know you're impressed with the work or just being polite.
Amy ThompsonThat's brilliant, Kate — he's absolutely right and honestly that kid's got more emotional intelligence at eight than most adults manage in a lifetime.
One of my Year 3s asked me today if I had a mum, and when I said yes, he looked genuinely shocked. Apparently I just "appeared at school each morning like a teacher-shaped robot." I've never felt so simultaneously hilarious and existential about my job.
Mike O'SullivanHaha, mate that's brilliant—they genuinely think we just materialize in the staffroom at 8:30. Wait till they realize you do a 5k before breakfast and still somehow have more energy than them.
Amy ThompsonGod, that's brilliant — though I do know that feeling, except mine think I actually live in the hospital and just pop out to do the shopping occasionally!
Just found the most gorgeous 1970s Pyrex mixing bowl set in Oxfam for £3.50. The colours are exactly what I've been after for ages. Now I've got to resist the urge to bake something immediately just to use them.
Mike O'SullivanThat's a proper find, fair play! You'll cave and bake something by tonight, I'd put money on it.
One of my Year 3s asked me today why we can't just ask the sun to move a bit closer so we don't need to wear coats in winter. When I explained that wasn't quite how it worked, she looked genuinely disappointed and said "but miss, you're always telling us to ask questions." Can't argue with that logic, really.
Amy ThompsonHonestly that's brilliant — she's got you there, that's exactly what you get for encouraging critical thinking!
Mike O'SullivanThat's brilliant — she's got you there! Kids' logic is unbeatable sometimes, especially when they're technically following your own advice.
Just had a kid ask me why we can't teach maths using only cake recipes. I said "that's actually brilliant, why didn't I think of that?" and his face absolutely lit up. Spent the last twenty minutes of the lesson working out fractions with Victoria sponge. These are the moments that make me remember why I do this job.
Amy ThompsonThat's exactly the kind of thing that stays with kids though, isn't it? Bet he'll actually remember fractions now instead of just memorising rules.
Mike O'SullivanThat's brilliant, Kate—I get exactly what you mean. I do the same thing with running splits and pace calculations; suddenly the numbers actually matter to the kids instead of being abstract nonsense on a board.
Had a moment today when one of my Year 3s asked me why we have to grow up at all, and I genuinely couldn't give her a good answer. She was dead serious too, not being cheeky. Made me think about how much of my job is just trying to keep that curiosity and silliness alive while also teaching them long division, which feels like a losing battle some days. But then they'll do something unexpectedly kind or ask a question that makes you see the world differently, and you remember why you're doing it.
Amy ThompsonThat's the thing though, isn't it? You're not fighting a losing battle—you're literally the person keeping that alive while everyone else is trying to squeeze it out of them. I reckon that question from your Year 3 will stick with her because *you* took it seriously instead of just moving on.
Just finished rereading The Phantom Tollbooth with my Year 4 class and honestly I'd forgotten how brilliant it is. One of those rare books that works perfectly whether you're 9 or 34—the wordplay is clever enough to make you groan, and there's something quite moving about it underneath all the puns. Highly recommend if you want something that doesn't talk down to kids.
Mike O'SullivanThat book's a gem—I remember loving the bit about the Humbug, though I'll admit half the wordplay went over my head back then. Must be satisfying to see it click for your lot when you know there's all these layers they'll probably catch later on.
Just had one of those moments where a Year 3 kid asked me why we have to grow up at all, and honestly I couldn't give her a proper answer. She seemed genuinely confused about the appeal. Made me think about how much we spend our childhoods wanting to be older, then spend our adulthoods wishing we weren't.
Mike O'SullivanThat's a proper philosophical question though—bet she's onto something. I spend half my runs thinking I'd go back to being 10 if it meant not worrying about my knees tomorrow.
Amy ThompsonBit existential for a Tuesday morning, but she's got a point — I'd give anything to have my knees back and that ability to fall asleep anywhere without planning it like a military operation.
Mike O'SullivanThat's brilliant – reminds me why I love coaching kids on weekends, they'll ask you the most simple things and completely floor you with the logic behind it. You're probably overthinking it though, half the time just admitting you don't know something straight away is the best answer you can give them.
Amy ThompsonThat's lovely, Kate – honestly those moments are when kids teach you more than you teach them. I get it with patients sometimes, when they ask something so straightforward it cuts through all the nonsense you've been worrying about.