BLOG | María Jesús Quirós

Starting with setbacks, moving forward with hope

28 June 2025

I’m writing this not even knowing what I hope to achieve by doing so — maybe just to make sense of the last few weeks, to get it out of my head and heart, to breathe a little more easily by putting it into words.

These past few days… I don't even know how to describe them. A rollercoaster doesn’t quite do it justice. It’s been overwhelming, emotional, and honestly, at times, really difficult to process. Unless you’ve gone through something like this, I’m not sure it’s easy to understand.

The setting I’ve worked in, the one I’ve loved and poured myself into, is becoming my own. I’m opening my own childcare setting — in the very place where I was lucky enough to work under someone I deeply admire. My former manager, and truly one of the best mentors I could’ve asked for, made the decision to step away. That in itself was a shock. I never imagined she'd leave. She was the heart of the place — positive, caring, supportive of everyone around her. She did things right.

And then suddenly, the opportunity to take over and make the place my own appeared. It was overwhelming — and also a dream come true. If you’ve ever spoken to me or my friends, you’d know I’ve said for years: “One day, I’ll have my own preschool. The children will be happy, the staff will be cared for, and I’ll give it my all.”

And then, just like that… it was happening.

The emotions have been intense. Excitement, nerves, joy, fear, self-doubt, gratitude — all wrapped up in one. I kept thinking, how will I do this without her? She was always there. Always. I felt the weight of responsibility fall on me all at once.

There was so much to sort — paperwork, registrations, utility accounts, finances… a mountain I hadn’t fully seen until I had to climb it. But I took it step by step. Slowly (and slower than I’d hoped, since a lot of it didn’t even depend on me), but surely. With every task crossed off the list, I felt a bit more capable.

Then the final day arrived — the last day with my mentor at the helm. From that moment on, the responsibility would be fully mine. Every question, every problem, every decision… would fall to me. That was terrifying. But I told myself, I can do this. And I believe that.

I believe it because of the amazing people around me. The ones who showed up — physically, emotionally, in big and small ways — and reminded me I’m not alone in this.

From the very next day after closing the previous setting, people came and offered help without hesitation.

L. — you helped me move boxes, shift shelves, prep the classrooms. You made the process of painting smoother, faster. You probably don’t realise just how important your presence has been.

P. — thank you for stepping in when we had no one else. Every handyman we called was booked for weeks, but you came and handled the fixings we couldn’t do on our own. You saved us more than time — you saved our sanity.

A. — you showed up with your sleeves rolled up, ready to clean, paint, take rubbish to the dump. You gave your time, your energy, your heart. I’ll never forget it.

I. — you could’ve been enjoying your well-earned days off, but instead you were right there with us, brushing walls and bringing calm when I was freaking out. Your steady energy carried me through so many frantic moments. Thank you.

C. — just after having a baby, you showed up with your children and still managed to help. I don’t have the words. You chose to give us your time during a moment when rest would’ve made so much more sense. That meant everything.

V. — after a long workday, you came to scrub stubborn dirt and peel tape off floors. We’ll laugh about those moments one day, I’m sure — but for now, thank you for showing up when you didn’t have to.

E. — what can I say? You’ve been there every step. Early mornings, late nights — literally all of it. Painting, planning, cleaning, leading when I didn’t even know where to start. You held the whole thing together when I was falling apart. I truly couldn’t have done it without you.

We pushed through the hardest parts. I thought we were ready. The rooms were done, the supplies were in place, everything was just about there. And then — the bad news hit. We wouldn’t be allowed to open on time.

I can’t describe how crushing that was.

I did everything I possibly could — made every phone call, contacted every authority, explained our situation again and again. I asked for understanding, for flexibility, for any way forward that wouldn’t leave our families without childcare and our staff without hours. But it wasn’t enough.

Telling families we couldn’t open when expected broke my heart. The messages started coming in immediately: “What will I do now?” “Who will mind my child?” “Is this for days? Weeks? Can you tell us?” And I couldn’t. I had no answers.

Some families had no choice but to look elsewhere. I understood — I’d probably do the same in their shoes. But it was devastating. I felt I’d let everyone down, despite knowing I had done absolutely everything in my power. I felt guilt I shouldn't have felt — but still did.

And yet… amidst all this, I was met with kindness.

The staff, despite the uncertainty, were nothing but supportive. They offered words I didn’t even know I needed to hear: “We’ve got you.” “We’re in this together.” That support lifted me when I was struggling to stand on my own. I don’t think they realise how much that meant to me.

And then came the messages from families — kind, compassionate, understanding. They told me they believed in me, in what we’re building. That this delay, while hard, didn’t erase their trust. That support… it meant the world.

So here I am, still fighting. Still working on making this place what I know it will be: a preschool filled with love, care, joy, and growth. A place children will love coming to, where families feel safe, and staff feel proud to work.

This isn’t the start I imagined. But I believe — with all of my heart — that it will still become something beautiful. And when it does, we’ll look back at this beginning not with frustration, but with pride.

Thank you to everyone — staff, friends, family, and parents — who stood by me through this storm. Your belief in me has meant more than I can ever express. You kept me going when I nearly gave up.

We’re not there yet. But we’re getting there. And I promise you, it’s going to be worth it.

Maria

Circle Time: Chaos, Laughter, and Adidas?

8 March 2025

If you work with children, you know they have a special talent for making you laugh when you least expect it. And that’s when you laugh the most—because you just didn’t see it coming!

So, picture this: it’s circle time. If you’re a teacher, you already know how tricky this can be. The goal (which feels impossible sometimes) is to get the kids to clean up, sit on the mat, and actually stay there. Sounds easy? Nope!

It all starts with Liam. “I’m too hot! I want to take off my jumper!”

Fair enough. “Okay, come here, I’ll help you.” But, of course, as soon as Liam takes off his jumper, Sofía suddenly feels too hot as well. And then Seán. And Martina. And before I know it, half the class is peeling off their jumpers like we’re in the middle of summer!

Alright. Jumpers are off. We’re ready now, right? Haha, no.

Pablo now needs the toilet. Of course, he does. I try to convince him to wait. He agrees… but he’s doing the dance. You know the one. That little wiggle that tells you there are only seconds before an accident. So, I sigh. “Alright, go.”

And then, like magic, Aoife also suddenly needs the toilet. Then Carlos. Then Lucía. And before I can blink, I have a full line of children waiting for the toilet.

The rest of the kids wait for about 1.2 seconds before getting bored. “Teacher, Martina pushed me!” “Teacher, Diego is sitting in my spot!” “Teacher, Elena is looking at me weird!” And now, instead of a circle time, I’m in the middle of a playground argument, trying to calm everyone down.

Finally, all the children are back from the toilet. Surely, now we can start? Nope.

Now Rían needs a drink of water. And, just like before, the whole class suddenly realizes they are super thirsty. It’s like they’ve just walked through a desert.

Deep breath. “Okay, listen. If you need water, go. If you need the toilet, go. If you need to take off your jumper, do it now. Because after this, NO ONE is getting up!”

They all nod like perfect little angels. “Yes, teacher.”

Finally, finally, we start. Hands go up, hands go down, we sing the song… almost in sync. A few kids start yelling, but we power through. After some more settling (and a few tiny arguments), we get into the lesson.

Things are going well. We’re practicing our words for the week, and the kids are doing great. They even know the days of the week in both English and Spanish! That took months, but we got there!

Then we start talking about this week vocabulary.

"Okay, first word: firefighter!"
"¡Bombero!" shouts Cillian.
"Great job!"

"Next word: police officer?"
"¡Policía, policía!" yells Nerea.
"Amazing!"

We’re on a roll.

"Alright, next up: teacher. Does anyone remember?"

Liam confidently shouts: "Techora!"

My colleague and I exchange a look and burst out laughing. We love when kids try to make up words based on what they think sounds right.

"Good try! But not quite. Try again."

Sofía jumps in, excited: "Animales!"

"Great memory! But animales is from last week and it means animals. What about teacher?"

The kids start shouting out random guesses, making up words, getting louder and louder.

And then, Lucía has a lightbulb moment. Her face lights up with excitement. She knows the answer.

"I knoooooow! TEACHER! I REMEMBER!!!"

"Okay! Tell us!

She takes a deep breath, stands up proudly, and shouts:

"¡ANIMALES! ANIMALS! ADIDAS!! IT’S ADIDAS! TEACHER IN SPANISH IS ADIDAS"

…

Silence.

And then, my colleague and I lose it. We are crying with laughter.

Because after everything—the jumper chaos, the toilet parade, the water break drama—this is the moment that makes it all worth it.

Outsmarted by a primary school kid (again)

9 February 2025

Once again, the kids—well, one particular kid this time—have proven just how clever they can be. Sometimes even smarter than us adults. Actually, let’s be real… most of the time.

Last Friday, during afterschool club, the kids were busy doing their own things. Some were building with Lego, others were playing chess, some were drawing and coloring. Everything was peaceful.

Until I noticed one group throwing Lego on the floor.

I walked over, acting all casual, like I just happened to be passing by, and said, “Hey guys, don’t throw the Lego, it’s gonna break.”

One of them gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”

I explained, “If you keep throwing it, it’ll break, and then you won’t have any left to play with.”

Now all of them were staring at me like I had just said something completely ridiculous. And then came this conversation:

Child 1: We’re just pretending they’re bombs.

Me: Guys, you know we don’t allow shooting or fighting games here.

Child 2 (thinking hard): Well… I thought you said no guns were allowed.

Me: That’s right, no guns.

Child 2: Okay, then these aren’t guns. They’re bombs.

I could already tell where this was going.

Me: Yes, but no guns, no bombs, no fighting—nothing related to war.

Child 2 (raising an eyebrow): Hmm… well, in war, they had spatulas too, right?

Me (now very curious where this is leading): Uh… I guess so?

Child 2: Then why do we have spatulas here? You said nothing from war can be here.

At this point, I was trying so hard not to laugh. But he knew. He knew he had won. He just looked at me with a little smile, waiting for me to admit defeat.

I sighed, smiled back, and said, “You know what I mean—no weapons or things for fighting.”

And just like that, I had lost yet another debate with a six-year-old.

Later, when I told the staff, we all had a good laugh. Because, honestly? He kind of had a point. In the funniest way possible.

Once again, kids have reminded me how quick and clever they are. The way they see the world is amazing. And sometimes? We adults don’t stand a chance.

Even when it comes to spatulas.

Barefoot bliss: Finding joy in simple moments by the sea

3 February 2025

You know those little moments? The ones that make you stop and realize how lucky you are? How something so small can bring you happiness, peace, and a deep sense of calm? Those moments are special.

For me, the beach has always been that place. The place that makes me feel at home. The funny thing is, I didn’t grow up near the coast. I was born in the middle of Spain—far from any ocean views or the sound of waves. If I wanted to go to the beach, it meant driving for at least four hours, so it wasn’t something I did often.

But I always felt drawn to it. Every time I visited, even if only for a short time, I felt so peaceful. There’s nothing like walking along the shore, feeling the wind, listening to the waves, and just enjoying the simple beauty of nature.

Now, I’m lucky enough to live just minutes from the beach. And I take full advantage of it. The moment the weather gets nice, I go—sometimes for hours—walking, reading, or just sitting by the water, letting the ocean wash away all my worries.

I’ve always loved spending time alone, and the beach is one of my favorite places to do that. But sharing it with someone? That’s something even more special. Walking with someone who loves the beach as much as I do, who notices the little things—the seashells, the colors of the sky, the sound of the waves—it makes everything feel even more magical.

Just yesterday, I was walking barefoot on the little stones, struggling a bit but smiling the whole time. And in that moment, I felt so grateful. My life is slowly turning into everything I’ve ever wanted. A simple walk by the ocean—something that might not seem like a big deal to others—was enough to remind me how much I love the life I’m creating.

And once again, it was all thanks to the beach (and the company). The place that always brings me back to myself, that reminds me to enjoy the little moments. Because in the end, those moments are what truly matter.

A year of magic: How one school changed everything

1 February 2025

We all have those little moments—those times when we stop and think about life, about how far we’ve come, and about the journey itself. Maybe not everyone does, but I sure do. And this past week, I had one of those moments that really made me think.

It has been one year since we opened the school where I work (the best school ever, of course!). Planning a small celebration for such a big milestone made me realize how fast time flies and, more importantly, how much we connect with people. How we build relationships, create memories, and become part of something special.

I still remember the day we first opened. Everything was new—new children, new families, new staff. It was a lot to take in. I had come from a place where I knew everyone and everything felt comfortable, and suddenly, I found myself surrounded by strangers. It was a big change. Only the manager, the other assistant manager, and I knew each other, so we had to figure everything out together.

I remember thinking, “Wow, can I really do this?” I had done it before, but this felt different. A new team, a whole new environment—how was I supposed to make it all work? But one thing was clear: I wanted the team to feel valued and happy. I wanted to be the kind of assistant manager I would have loved to work with.

And so, the adventure began. The kids arrived—each one unique, full of energy, and, to be honest, not too keen on listening to a new teacher in the middle of the school year. But I love a challenge. With patience, positivity, and a few smart strategies, we found our way. These little ones, who at first felt like strangers, slowly became "my kids". They learned to trust me, to listen, and to grow. And before I knew it, a whole year had passed.

As we prepared for our one-year celebration, I realized just how much this school had become a home—not just for the children, but for me. The friendships we’ve made, the lessons we’ve learned, the countless hugs and laughter—it all means so much. When we told the children about the school’s anniversary, their excitement was priceless.

“Wait, what? It’s the school’s birthday?!” one child asked.

“Ohhh, we HAVE to throw a party!” another said.

And so, on Friday, as we set up for the celebration, something absolutely adorable happened. A little group of kids started walking around the classroom, hugging the shelves, the toy kitchen, the pillows, even random toys they found along the way.

“Happy birthday, school!”

“You’re the best school ever!”

“We love you, school!”

Now, I know that if someone from outside had walked in at that moment, they might have thought, What is going on here? Did they give these kids too much sugar? But to me, it was the sweetest thing ever. They weren’t just attending a school; they felt like they belonged. They loved it. And honestly? So do I.

In just one year, this school has given me more than I ever expected. It has helped me grow, challenged me, and taught me things I never thought I needed to learn. It has shown me resilience, deepened my love for what I do, and given me the support of a team, feeling the trust of a manager who sets the gold standard.

One year. Just twelve months. And yet, it feels like a lifetime of memories, lessons, and love.

Here’s to many more!

Preschool pearls: Wrangling the chaos: getting kids outside

13 November 2024

I come back from my break, and the kids are playing happily, their little faces lit up with excitement. “Alright, everyone! It’s time to tidy up because we’re heading to the gym!” I’m expecting cheers and big smiles, but instead, I’m met with a chorus of groans and sad faces looking up at me.

“Aaah, we don’t wanna go to the gym…” they moan.

Wait, what? I thought they loved the gym! “What’s the problem?” I ask, confused.

“We do… but we wanted to go outside!” they shout back.

I pause, thinking it over. They do love playing outside, but getting a group of three- and four-year-olds ready to go outside? It’s a full production! Still, I’m feeling generous, so I give them a deal. “Alright, we’ll go outside, but only if you all promise—no yelling, no fighting, and if you need help, you’ll wait calmly. Deal?”

“Yes, teacher!” says one. “Of course!” another pipes up.

I pull out the big box of outdoor clothes and set it on the table. “Shoes off, everyone! Put them by the wall, then grab your outdoor clothes one at a time.”

“OKAY, TEACHER!” they shout, but, as expected, chaos begins almost immediately.

“My shoes go there!”

“No, MY shoes go there!”

“Hey, you’re pushing me!”

“TEACHER!”

“Remember what you promised…” I say as patiently as I can. Eventually, they get their shoes off, and we reach the next challenge.

“Teacher, I can’t put on my wetsuit…”

“Ah, you’re pushing me!”

“Teacher, help!”

They all start shouting for help, some even losing balance and falling as they try to get into their gear. I can’t help but think: Wouldn’t it be easier if parents picked gear their kids could manage themselves? But I digress. After some dramatic back-and-forth, and a few more tumbles, I finally have them all lined up against the wall.

“Alright, guys, stay in line. Remember to put on your wellies before we go outside.”

“Okay, teacher!” they chorus.

“Make some space for me first so I can get all the wellies out of the box, alright?”

“Yes, teacher, yes!”

With some hope, I start taking wellies out and lining them up. Naturally, the excitement builds, and the kids start pushing to grab theirs first, dropping their bottles and, of course, banging them against the wall—one of their favorite sounds, my least favorite.

“Guys, push back. You know the drill.”

“But teacher, I want to be first!”

“No, I want to be first!”

“No, I’m the leader, so I go first!”

Another round of shuffling and squabbling starts. I pull my best annoyed-but-funny face, and they all pause, looking up at me.

“What’s up, teacher?”

“What do you think, guys?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I know.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“That we’re fighting. Again.”

A pause, then a chorus of “But I was here first!” “My wellies are there, so I should be first!” They’re all trying to defend themselves when suddenly, one little girl’s face lights up.

“I have an idea!”

“Oh? Would you like to tell us?”

“Yes, teacher! Whoever is the quietest gets to pick their wellies first!”

There it is—my influence! It’s incredible how quickly they pick up on things by watching and imitating. “Great! That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard!” The kids eagerly agree, and miraculously, we get through it in silence.

Half an hour later, they’re finally in their outdoor gear, wellies on, bottles in hand.

“Everybody ready to go outside?”

“Yeeees!” they shout.

I open the door. “Go on, get out!” I yell with a laugh, and they all tumble outside, running, shouting, and laughing, having the time of their lives. There’s just something about the outdoors—they love it every time, and honestly? It’s worth the chaos.

Preschool pearls: Shoes off, wiggles on: playtime Drama!

7 November 2024

It was playtime, and the kids were all doing their own thing. Some were playing with baby dolls, others were setting up pretend tables, and then there was Yasmin (we’ll call her that for privacy). Yasmin was busy with her Legos—but, as usual, she was also moving around constantly. Wiggling, twirling, bouncing… Yasmin simply can’t sit still. She has to be moving all the time, like she’s got a little motor inside her!

I notice, of course, that her shoes are off—again. With Yasmin, it’s actually rare to find her wearing shoes, so I decide it’s time to get them back on her feet. Here’s how our little conversation goes.

“Yasmin, your shoes…”

“What?” she says, not even looking up from her Legos.

“What do you mean, what?”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“Where are they?”

She shrugs, still focused on her Legos. “Look! I’m making a house with—” she starts explaining her creation, but I try to get her back to the topic of shoes.

“Yes, that’s nice, but you need to put on your shoes.”

“Yes, but look!” she says, pointing to her Legos.

“No, Yasmin. Shoes first, then tell me all about it.”

Before I can finish my sentence, she jumps in, “And this is the dog, and this is the girl!”

“Yasmin,” I say, “please put on your shoes.”

But before I can even get the whole sentence out, she cuts in again, louder this time, like she’s trying to drown me out, “And I made this with my Lego!”

So I ask her, “Did you hear what I said?”

She lets out a big, frustrated sigh and shouts back, “I was talking to you, but you were talking to me, so I couldn’t!”

I open my mouth to reply, but she beats me to it with a loud, “YOU’RE SOOO ANNOYING!”

I look at her, not sure if I should laugh or feel offended. She looks so genuinely annoyed, but also so funny at the same time. I can’t help but just smile and say, “I’m so annoying, huh?”

“Yes,” she replies, looking seriously annoyed.

“Well, what should we do about it?” I say, pulling a silly face as if to say, “Guess it’s my fault for being sooo annoying.”

She looks at me, pauses, and then breaks into a smile. “Well… I could give you a hug!”

We both look at each other and just start laughing. The whole thing went from frustration to laughter in a split second. This is why I love working with kids—they’re so full of surprises. Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they turn the whole moment around.

Preschool pearls: when Pedro isn't Pedro

6 November 2024

Today on my break, I was in the staff room, enjoying a quiet lunch. To set the scene, the staff room is right next to my classroom, so I can hear everything happening in there. And let me tell you, these kids come up with the funniest conversations. I often sit there trying not to laugh out loud, thinking, I wish I was a kid again.

So there I was, peacefully eating my lunch. The kids were unusually quiet, so I thought to myself, They must be coloring. They absolutely love it! Anytime, any day, I’ll hear, “Teacher, I wanna do coloring!” and before I know it, they’re all coloring, cutting, gluing—making a complete mess, of course. But if it keeps them entertained and “quiet,” I’m all for it.

Anyway, back to today’s story. I’m enjoying my peaceful lunch, when a new staff member, let’s call him “Pedro,” walks through my classroom and starts chatting with the kids. Suddenly, I hear one little girl call out, “Hey, you’re not the normal Pedro!” I nearly choked on my food! I didn’t even have to see her face—I know her so well I could just picture the exact expression she had.

To explain, we used to have another teacher named Pedro, so that’s what she meant by “not the normal Pedro.” But the way she said it was so direct and innocent! Poor new Pedro had no idea what she was talking about, while my colleague and I couldn’t stop laughing. The kids kept going, too. Some were saying the “other” Pedro had different skin, and one even added, “He’s not the real Pedro.”

Kids see the world in such a literal and funny way. Little moments like this are what I love most about my job. They made my lunch break even better, and I’m grateful for every laugh they give me. You really do have to love them!

Preschool pearls: A sweet morning at the gym with my little friend

5 November 2024

I was sitting cross-legged on the gym floor when a little four-year-old boy came over, smiling wide. He looked at me and asked, “Can I sit on your lap?” Of course, I said yes! He climbed up, gave me a big grin, and squeezed my cheeks.

“Mariaaaa!” he shouted.

“Yeah?” I answered, making a silly face.

“You’re so cozy! I want to sit on your lap forever!”

“Oh, really?” I said. “Maybe I can take you home, and you can be my teddy bear! I’ll keep you with me and hug you all the time!”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, Maria, you can’t!”

“Why not?” I asked, pretending I didn’t understand.

“What about my mummy and daddy?” he said, looking very serious.

“What about them?” I teased.

“They’ll miss me!” he said.

“That’s okay—they can come visit you!” I joked, trying to keep a straight face.

“Nooo, silly!” he giggled, shaking his head.

“Why not?”

“Because I would miss them too!”

“Oh, you’re right—that would be sad. How about you just be my teddy here at school? Deal?”

He grinned. “Good deal!” Then, suddenly, he wrapped his little arms around me and gave me a big hug. “I love you, Maria!”

“I love you too,” I said, feeling warm and happy.

Then he got curious. “Do you live with your family, Maria?”

“No, my family lives in Spain,” I told him.

“In Spain?” he asked, looking puzzled. “But you live in Ireland!”

“That’s right,” I said, smiling.

“Do you ever see your family?”

“Yes, I visit them, and we can talk on video calls too!”

“Oh! I see my auntie on video calls sometimes too. That’s nice,” he said, looking pleased.

“It is nice, isn’t it?”

“But why doesn’t your family live here?” he asked, frowning.

“Becuase we are form Spain but I live in Ireland because I like it,” I explained.

“But why do you like Ireland?”

“Because of you! And all the other fun, silly kids here,” I said with a grin. “You guys make my days so much fun!”

“We’re not silly!” he said, pulling a funny face.

“Oh, yes, you are!” I laughed, giving him a little tickle, and he laughed so hard he nearly fell off my lap.

Finally, he settled back down and sighed. “I want to stay on your lap for the rest of gym time.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” I said with a smile. And there we stayed, happy as could be.

Preschool pearls: Morning giggles and tiny hugs

2 November 2024

First thing in the morning, the room fills with the happy chaos of free play. Some kids are building with Lego, others are playing "shop," and a few are even squabbling over whose coloring looks the best.

Out of nowhere, I feel a small hand tug on my leg. I look down, and there she is—a little girl with bright eyes, wanting a hug.

"Can I give you a big hug?" I ask, crouching down to her level.

"Of course, teacher!" she says, smiling.

We hug tightly, and I lift her up, giving her a playful squeeze. She laughs. "Teacher, you’re so silly!"

I pull a funny face. "Me, silly? No way!"

"Yes, you are," she giggles. "You're squeezing me too much!"

"That’s because I love you so much!" I say, giving her one more squeeze.

"Oh, teacher, I love you too!" She wraps her little arms around me, trying her best to squeeze me back.

I pretend to be surprised. "Now you’re the silly one—you’re squeezing me!"

She laughs even harder. "We’re both silly, aren’t we?"

"But you’re way sillier!" I tease.

"No, you!"

"No, you!" We both burst out laughing.

I pretend to let her fall just a little, and she squeals with excitement.

"Again, teacher!"

"Oh no, not again," I say, pretending to be tired.

"Yes, please!" she begs, smiling so big. So I lift her up again, and she laughs even harder.

"Again, again, again!" she chants, until finally, I have to catch my breath.

"I can’t anymore," I say, acting worn out. "I’m getting old, you know!"

She crosses her arms, grinning. "Yes, you can!"

"But I have to save some energy for the gym later!"

She looks up at me with a cheeky smile. "Just skip it and do squats with me instead!"

"Well, it is more fun with you laughing every time," I say, feeling my heart melt.

"So just do it again and again and again!" she cheers.

And there it is—kids always know exactly how to keep you going, no matter how tired you are.

Preschool pearls: Wait... You're NOT a Mom?!

1 November 2024

Just another day in the classroom where imagination runs wild and surprises come out of nowhere!

Today's lesson? You don't need to be a mom to be a teacher!

The kids were shocked to learn I don't have any little ones of my own!

The kids were deep in a Play-Doh session, chattering away about... well, everything. Then suddenly, one of them stops, looks up, and asks, "Teacher, what are your children's names?"

I tell him, laughing, "I don't have any children". His eyes widen in shock, and he practically shouts, "Whaaaaat?! You have noooo children?!"

"Nope, no children", I reply, smiling.

"But you're a teacher!" he says, totally baffled.

"Yep, but not a mom!" I say, amused

Cue all the kids gasping like I just revealed a huge secret.

Preschool pearls: Morning magic at preschool

31 October 2024

This morning, a little girl asked, "Can I sit on your lap, teacher?" Of course, I said yes, and we chatted:

- Girl: "Teacher, today is Halloween!"

- Me: "Are you going trick-or-treating?"

- Girl: "Yes! Are you coming with me?"

- Me: "I wish I could, but I can't"

- Girl: "But you should come!"

- Me: "That's so sweet!"

- Girl; "I really love you so come with my friends!"

When this sweet little girl invited me to join her trick-or-treating, my heart just melted.

Kids remind me that love and joy shine through the chaos.

The joy of being a preschool teacher: a moment that made it all worth it

30 October 2024

At pickup time:

- Mom: "Maria, I have to tell you something sweet my daughter said!"

- Me: "Oh, tell me!"

- Mom: "We were talking about princesses, and she told me one looked like her friend, so pretty. Then she asked who I thought was the prettiest girl in her class, and when I asked her back, she said, 'it's Teacher Maria!'"

- Me: "Aww, that really made my day".

Moments like these are the heart of teaching.

The little connections, unexpected kindness, and sweet memories keep me smiling through the busiest days.

Lessons from little ones: navigating boundaries in the classroom

13 October 2024

Children. Those tiny humans who can teach you more about life than you'd ever expect. Sometimes, they offer the perfect reminders of what truly matters, whether it's helping us appreciate the small things or teaching us emotional self-regulation. And, let's be honest, they love to push our boundaries. In fact, they're absolute pros at it. How do they do it so effortlessly? It’s like testing your patience is ingrained in their DNA. They just... do things. And you’re left there, with all the emotions they’ve stirred up, forced to decide: are you going to let frustration take over, or are you going to learn something from it?

Personally, I choose the second option—every time. It's not always easy, of course, but I genuinely believe there’s something to learn from every situation, no matter how absurd or infuriating it might seem. You might be rolling your eyes, thinking, "Yeah, right, sometimes things just happen." Sure, maybe. But I find that when I choose to see these moments as lessons, I grow as a person, and it makes everything a bit more bearable. It’s up to you, though.

Let me give you an example. I know you’ve heard people say things like, “That child has no boundaries,” or, “She's so spoiled,” and all that. I used to think that way too, and sometimes I still do—especially when I’ve had a terrible night’s sleep or a rough day. But what if there’s something deeper going on? Let me share a story that’ll make you shake your head, but also see things from a different angle.

So, one day, I’m coming back from the gym with half of the group, and I see my colleague mopping up the floor. I ask her what happened, and she says, “Child 1 wet herself.” Now, this was odd because Child 1 never has accidents. She's the type to always ask to go to the toilet. My colleague explains that Child 1 had told her she needed to go, but my colleague was busy helping another child and asked her to wait just a couple of seconds. The next thing she knew, there was a puddle of wee surrounding Child 1. Surprised, I asked what Child 1 said about it. My colleague tells me, “She said she did it to teach me to open the door immediately when she asks.”

Wait, what? A three-year-old is teaching her teacher a lesson by peeing on the floor?! I was stunned. Of course, accidents happen. Sometimes kids are so engrossed in their play that they forget to ask to use the bathroom, or they’re too shy to speak up. But this? This was on a whole new level. I had to see for myself if this was really what happened, so I asked the child.

Me: "What happened? I see you’re wearing different pants." Child 1: "I wet myself." Me: "That’s very unusual. Did you spill your water bottle?" Child 1: "No, I did my wees." Me: "Oh... did you not make it to the toilet in time?" Child 1: "No, I asked the teacher, but she was busy." Me: "So, did you wait?" Child 1: "No, I wanted her to open the door right then." Me: "But she was helping someone, wasn’t she?" Child 1: "Yes, but I don’t care. She has to open the door when I say so."

My jaw dropped. She was speaking with such confidence, as if she fully believed the world revolved around her. Her tone, her body language—it all screamed, "You work for me." It was a bit scary, to be honest.

We’ve all been there, right? Some might just shrug this off as a child testing limits, or maybe she was really frustrated and couldn’t wait any longer. Everyone will have their own take. But if you’ve worked with kids long enough, you know what’s really going on—this child is still learning how to handle frustration and manage those big feelings when she doesn’t get her way. It’s possible she’s just not used to hearing "no" or having to wait. And while we work hard to teach them these life skills in the classroom, we can only do so much.

This brings me to my point: as teachers, we do everything we can in the classroom, but we’re only one part of a child’s learning experience. The values and habits they develop at home and other environments naturally play a big role too, and sometimes those can be different from what we’re reinforcing at school. That’s perfectly normal. Our job is to create clear expectations within the school environment and help children understand that different spaces can have different rules. It's not about right or wrong; it's about adapting to each setting.

So, what’s the solution? It’s all about setting clear boundaries in school. I’ve found that if you explain to children, “At home, you may do things differently, but here at school, we have our own rules,” it works. Eventually. After the 420066287th repetition, that is.

This is for all the teachers out there who are dealing with these same challenges every day—I see you, and I get it. It’s tough, no doubt about it, but remember, you’re not in this alone. We do everything we can for our students, but at the end of the day, we have to recognize that some things are beyond our control. We’re part of a bigger team, and educating a child isn’t just on us—it’s a shared effort.

The Blue Room: the place that changed everything

10 October 2024

The Blue Room. That space I instantly fell in love with the moment I saw it. The room that changed my life forever. And no, I’m not exaggerating. It may sound dramatic, but trust me—it’s not.

Let me take you back. I was at a point in my life where I felt completely lost in my career. No matter what I did, it never seemed right. I’d studied for four years, earned my Teaching Degree, and specialized in Speech and Language, yet I felt useless. Defeated. It was as if I had wasted years of my life on something I wasn’t even sure I could do. Maybe I had gotten it wrong. Maybe working with children wasn’t meant for me. Little did I know how far I was from the truth—and how much my life was about to change.

It all started during the pandemic. In a moment of sheer frustration, I decided to apply for a position at a school that people kept recommending to me. Friends, acquaintances, even people who didn’t know each other were all saying the same thing: “You have to check this place out. It’s amazing, and they even teach the kids Spanish!” I figured if so many people were raving about it, there had to be something special.

So, I looked it up. And you know when you just know something is meant for you? That’s what happened. The school’s website oozed warmth and care, as if every corner had been crafted with love. But I reminded myself that appearances can be deceiving. I’d been in situations before where things looked perfect on the outside, only to reveal the opposite in reality. Still, I couldn’t shake this gut feeling that this place was different. I’ve always trusted my intuition, and this time, I chose to listen to it again.

The day of the interview, everything felt... right. As I walked from the train station to the school, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace. The fresh air, the colorful leaves on the trees, even the view of the sea—it all felt like a sign telling me, “This is it.”

When I finally arrived and stepped through the school’s doors, I felt an immediate sense of belonging. It wasn’t just a school—it was a home. The owner and manager greeted me with warmth, and as she showed me around, I fell in love with every single corner of that place. I could tell they truly cared about the children and the environment they had created. The more I saw, the more I knew—this was the hope I’d been searching for.

Our conversation in her office sealed the deal. She spoke with such passion, and it was clear how much she loved what she did. As I walked back to the train station, I couldn’t stop smiling. This was my place. Yes, it would mean a big change—new routines, taking the train every day (which I knew wouldn’t be so lovely during winter)—but none of that mattered. It felt worth it. I already knew in my heart that I would accept the position.

And so, I did.

That’s how I ended up in “The Blue Room.” The room that changed my life. I’ll never forget that group of little people who gave me back my love for teaching. They had no idea how much they meant to me. When I first started, I was filled with doubt, but those kids—their jokes, their hugs, their spontaneous “I love yous”—they brought me back to life. They reminded me why I became a teacher in the first place: to make a difference in their lives, and in return, they made a massive difference in mine.

I still remember every one of them. Even though I’ve been fortunate with the children I’ve taught over the years, that first group will always hold a special place in my heart. The Friday parties, dancing to songs like “Bomba” by King Africa and “Follow the Leader,” the way they would fight to sit on my lap, or the way they’d “fix” (well, mostly unfix) my hair—all those moments are etched in my memory.

And the graduation. That day was beyond special. Watching them sing and perform the poems we’d practiced so hard, seeing how much they’d grown—how much we had grown together—was overwhelming in the best way possible.

That group from The Blue Room—the ones who brought back my smile and my passion for teaching—they’ll always be my special group. Every day since then, I’ve loved my job, and I have them to thank for that.

I often wonder how they’re all doing now. I hope that one day, when they’re all grown up, I’ll have the chance to sit down with them and hear about their lives, their dreams, and if, by chance, they remember me. I hope they’ll know how much they meant to me.

So, to all of you—R., A., Y., C., L., M., VJ., O., F., and D.—thank you. You changed my life in ways you’ll never know, and I’ll always be grateful for the love and joy you brought into The Blue Room.

A weekend escape to recharge: Killarney Edition

07 October 2024

Sometimes you just need a break where you do nothing. No plans, no stress—just pure relaxation. That’s exactly what my friend L. and I were after last weekend. We had originally thought about a big summer trip, but the prices were outrageous. So, instead of going all out, we figured, “Why not treat ourselves to something closer to home?” A cozy weekend in Ireland sounded perfect.

We chose Killarney—a beautiful spot that's easy to get to and perfect for the chilled weekend we wanted. L. had found a great hotel a few months back, so we booked it for one night at the start of October. The timing couldn’t have been better: we were both deep into our busy work routines and definitely needed a break.

The weekend kicked off on Friday with dinner at L.'s house. Her family is so lovely, and it felt just like being with my own. The food was amazing, the conversation even better, but soon it was time to hit the road. Thankfully, L. was driving because I was completely wiped out from the week. The trip flew by since we spent the whole time talking and catching up—even though we’d just seen each other the week before! There’s something about chatting with a good friend that makes time disappear.

When we got to the hotel, we were amazed. It looked even better than the photos—super fancy, just the kind of place you need after a crazy week. The room? Gorgeous. And the bathroom? We both instantly agreed we wanted one just like it at home. It had this cozy, calming vibe with dark walls and a relaxing painting, perfect for unwinding. The shower was amazing—I didn’t want to get out! But when I did, I felt completely refreshed and at peace.

Since we’re both pretty chill, we spent the night in the hotel just chatting, reading, and soaking up the relaxing atmosphere. While I was reading, I had one of those moments where I felt really lucky. Not just because of the beautiful place, but because I was with L.—someone who truly understands me. There’s something special about being able to be completely yourself with a friend, no pretending, no filters. It’s rare, and I felt so grateful.

I was lost in this romance book L. lent me—the kind teenage me would’ve obsessed over. Grown-up me? Well, I know better now, but it was still impossible to put down! I wanted to keep reading but started getting so sleepy. I finally gave in, closed the book, and fell asleep almost immediately. The bed was super comfy, and I slept like a baby.

The next morning was pure bliss. We had a slow breakfast—no rush, just enjoying every bite. Afterward, we lounged by the pool with our books, feeling like we had all the time in the world. It was one of those rare moments where I felt so thankful—for being able to afford little luxuries and for having the time to truly enjoy them.

During our chats that weekend, L. and I talked about life and the kind of women we want to be in the future. It was one of those deep, reflective conversations that really make you think. She said something that stuck with me: every decision we make, no matter how small, shapes who we’ll become. We agreed that when faced with choices, it’s good to ask, “What would future me do?” It’s like the answer becomes clearer.

We also treated ourselves to massages at the hotel spa. Mine was the perfect mix of relaxing and a little painful (you know, the kind where it hurts but feels so good at the same time?). Afterward, we planned to grab lunch at the hotel, but they weren’t serving until 3pm, so they sent us to their sister hotel. And guess what? I ran into a couple whose child I used to teach! Small world, right?

Seeing them sparked something in me. It reminded me of how far I’ve come since I started working in childcare—how much I’ve grown and learned. It made me appreciate all the little decisions I’ve made along the way and how each one has led me to where I am now. It felt like life was giving me a little nudge, reminding me of my journey just when I needed it.

All in all, it was a weekend I won’t forget. A short trip, yes, but exactly what I needed: rest, reflection, and a fresh sense of gratitude. And of course, I couldn’t feel luckier to have L. by my side—someone who makes even the simplest weekend feel meaningful. Here’s to more trips like this, where doing nothing feels like everything.

Dream team: the magic of working together

02 October 2024

Ah, the elusive "Dream Team" – something we all hope to find in any workplace, right?

Over the years, having been part of various teams, I’ve come to realize just how lucky we were a few years ago. My manager, I., saw it at the time and said it herself: we truly had a dream team.

This post actually came to mind after a recent conversation with I. We were chatting about a necklace I was wearing – a gift from one of the wonderful team members we had back then – and it made me reflect on just how special that group was. So, this post is a bit of a thank-you to her. Not in a way that’s over the top, but because I genuinely appreciate everything she’s done to foster such a positive and supportive environment for everyone she's worked with. So, if you're reading this, I., thank you!

Building a team where everyone just clicks, supports each other, and stays positive through the ups and downs is no small feat. Looking back, I can’t help but wonder if it was a mix of luck, timing, and maybe some kind of cosmic alignment, but we had something special. A small, tight-knit group that worked together seamlessly. We made sacrifices for each other, but it never felt like a burden. We were simply there for one another, no questions asked.

It was the middle of the pandemic, and I had just started a new job with new kids, new staff, a new manager, and a whole new way of working. It sounds overwhelming, right? But honestly, it felt like I had found the place where I truly belonged.

There were days when team members were out due to COVID, and the rest of us just came together, no complaints, no drama. I’ll never forget one time when someone had to manage two gates to keep the kids safe, while another was busy with an impromptu nappy change – not the usual scene, but hey, sometimes you just have to improvise! Then, there were the moments when we ran out of toilet paper (seriously!) and one of us had to dash upstairs to restock while the rest held things down. It felt chaotic at times, but somehow, we always made it work.

Of course, the pandemic came with its own set of fears. We knew that if one of us got sick, it could easily spread. There were days when I felt genuinely scared. I remember walking into the classroom one day, finding out half my class had tested positive, and stepping outside to catch my breath. I knew COVID would get me eventually, no matter how careful I was. The thought of bringing it home to my partner was terrifying. And even though some parents didn’t seem to fully grasp the risks we were taking, we kept going. Looking back, I realize maybe they didn’t fully understand just how serious it was at the time.

There were also those quieter days when only children of frontline workers were allowed to attend. Some days, there were more staff than kids! We all gathered in one classroom because it didn’t make sense to spread out. I still remember the looks we gave each other – “What do we do now?” – as we entertained just four children. And if one wanted to play ball while the others didn’t, well, we got creative (spoiler: it didn’t always go smoothly!).

But then someone had the brilliant idea to bring out the peg boards – a lifesaver! I can’t remember who thought of it, but those peg boards saved us more than once during those long days. As creative as we got, though, the hours sometimes seemed to drag on forever.

Looking back, I realize just how lucky we were to have had such an incredible team. M, C, L, K, J, C, and me – we faced everything together, always with a smile and a helping hand. And, of course, I., who constantly supported us and made sure we had everything we needed. Without her, none of it would have been possible.

While the team I’m part of today is different – and incredible in its own right – that “dream team” my manager spoke of is something I’ll always remember fondly. It wasn’t just luck. It was hard work, a shared bond, and a lot of mutual support. Looking back, I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to navigate those times with.

Airports: a place of reunions and realizations

28 September 2024

Airports. That bustling hub where so many lives intersect, reunite, and part ways. Until recently, I never fully grasped the magnitude of what goes on in these places. When I first started traveling after moving to Ireland, I treated airports as little more than pit stops: pass through security, flash my ID, head to the gate, wait for boarding, and boom—on the plane. Simple, right?

With all that waiting time, I'd usually get lost in whatever book I was reading (I’m a total bookworm, so waiting becomes pure joy when I get to dive into a great story). But I never really thought about the bigger picture—the emotions, the moments that unfold around me in airports every single day.

In the beginning, flying made me nervous, mainly because I wasn’t familiar with the process. Now? It’s second nature. It feels as easy as a walk in the park. No stress, no anxiety. I’ve gotten so used to the whole routine that it’s just another part of my day.

But trust me, it wasn’t always like this. Before I became a frequent flyer, I used to overthink everything. “What if I can't find my ID when I need it? What if my luggage gets flagged at security and I miss my flight? What if I forgot to pack something important?” My mind was a minefield of "what-ifs"—and I’m pretty sure I thought of every possible scenario.

Looking back, it’s funny how unnecessary all those worries were. I mean, if the gate changes last minute, it’s not like I’m the only one who has to move. Everyone else is in the same boat (or plane, in this case). And if I forgot something at home, what’s the point in stressing about it? There’s no going back for it. I’ve learned to keep my essentials simple: money, phone, ID, and keys. That’s it. With those four things, I’m good to go. Forgotten my favorite perfume or T-shirt? Who cares—I’ll survive.

And my overthinking didn’t stop when I got on the plane either. Once I was seated, I’d start worrying about landing. “What if we’re delayed and I miss my bus home? What if there’s a storm and we’re rerouted to another airport? What if I get sick mid-flight?” You name it, I worried about it.

Even after landing, my brain didn’t let up. I’d stress about getting to the bus on time: “What if they don’t accept my ID and I lose time? What if the bus is canceled? What if it’s pouring rain and I get soaked?” My brain was like a full-time worry machine.

But after flying back and forth between Ireland and my hometown enough times, I realized none of these worries were worth it. Every problem had a solution. Miss the bus? Book the next one. Forget to pack something? Buy it when I land. Gate change? Just follow the crowd. Over time, I stopped overthinking and started enjoying my flights. And that shift was a game changer.

Now, flying is exciting for me. Not anxiety-inducing, just exciting. I know that whatever happens, I’ll figure it out. And if I can’t fix something, why stress about it? It's such a relief to not waste my energy on things that aren't really a big deal.

Recently, I got to experience airports from a completely new perspective—the arrivals gate. It was my first time standing there, waiting for someone instead of being the one rushing through. And it was magical. I was waiting for my partner, and while I stood there, I watched countless other reunions. Families, friends, couples—all lighting up with joy as they spotted their loved ones. There were smiles, tears, gifts, tight hugs, and that indescribable happiness that comes from being reunited after time apart. It was heartwarming to witness, and it hit me just how special airports really are.

I couldn’t help but think: this is just one arrivals gate in one airport. How many beautiful, emotional moments are happening all over the world, every single day, in airports like this one? It was an eye-opening experience, a reminder that airports are more than just places to pass through. They’re full of life, emotion, and stories.

For so long, my airport experience was limited to getting off a plane, walking through security, and heading straight out the door. Except for the lovely moments when my aunt and uncle, or my partner recently, would pick me up, I hadn’t really thought about the other side of the equation—being the one who waits. But now I’ve felt the excitement of standing at that gate, waiting to see a familiar face, and it’s a feeling I hope to experience many more times.

Airports may seem ordinary, even mundane, but they hold so much more than we realize. They’re a place where the world comes together, full of reunions, goodbyes, and everything in between. And for that, I’m truly grateful.

Eleven kids, one story: the chaos before the calm

24 September 2024

You’d think having just eleven kids in a classroom would be a breeze, right? It must be quiet, calm—practically a walk in the park. Ha! Let me tell you, nothing could be further from the truth. The amount of energy packed into these eleven tiny humans is unreal. It’s like they’ve all had espresso shots. Trying to explain it? Impossible. You just have to witness it!

So, there I am, staring down the challenge: eleven little energizer bunnies bouncing around, and my mission is to get them settled for story time. Why? Because the goal is to send them home calm (their parents will thank me later) and hopefully let them enjoy a few peaceful minutes before the kids go full speed again.

But before we get to any relaxing stories, there’s the epic challenge of tidying up. Now, if you’ve ever tried to get a group of kids to clean up, you’ll know it’s like trying to herd cats… into a bathtub. First, I’ve got to follow each one around, crouch down to their level, and kindly ask, “Did you forget this toy? Can you show me where it goes?” Pretending not to know, of course, because that’s the only way they’ll feel like they’re in charge. “Oh wait! There’s one under the table! And how about that toy on the chair?” This goes on for, what, ten minutes? When, if I’d done it myself, it would’ve taken sixty seconds flat.

But no, these kids need to learn how to clean up after themselves. After all, toys don’t magically jump back into the box! (Although wouldn’t that be amazing?) Of course, nobody’s thrilled about tidying up. Cue the excuses: Child 1 desperately needs to use the toilet, Child 2 is suddenly parched and needs a drink, and Child 3, being the oh-so-helpful friend, is busy assisting Child 2 with their water bottle. Meanwhile, the classroom still looks like a toy bomb exploded.

This is where I pull out my secret weapon: The Tidy Up Song. Yup, the magic of music. I turn on the speaker, hit play, and—like magic—suddenly, everyone’s picking up toys, dancing while they do it! I’m standing there, wide-eyed, thinking, What kind of sorcery is this? Seriously, music can make kids do anything—especially things they don’t want to do, and somehow, they’re even enjoying it. It’s wild!

Once the room is finally toy-free, it’s time to get them on the mat for story time. Simple, right? Not exactly. I have to literally escort each child to the mat while chanting, “Come on, guys, sit down, it’s story time!”—about a million times. Naturally, two are fighting over who sits where, one is making random noises, another is singing, and someone is Velcro-ing and un-Velcro-ing their shoes like it’s the most important task in the world.

At this point, I pull out my next trick: “Ooooopen your eyes!” (I make mine as wide as possible, and they all copy). “Oooopen your ears!” (More dramatic ear-pulling). “Zip your mouths!” (They love this part—zipping their lips and tossing the imaginary key away while giggling). And just like that, I’ve got their attention… or so I think.

But wait! We’re not ready just yet. The leader of the day has to pick a book, and of course, this starts the usual chorus: “Can I pick next?” “What about me?” “I don’t like that book!” Every single time. Even though we do this every day, I still have to remind them, “Only the leader picks the story today. Don’t worry, your turn will come!” Cue the groans: “It’s not fair,” “But I wanted to pick,” and “I’m so sad.”

So, after what feels like half an hour of wrangling, we’re finally ready to read the story. I open the book, and… “Teacher, I need the toilet!” Seriously?! Right now?! After I’ve just spent all that time getting them settled? Inside, I’m thinking, Really? But on the outside, I just smile and say, “Of course, go ahead! Don’t take too long or you’ll miss the story!” “Okay, teacher!” they say, and off they go.

And finally, the moment I’ve been waiting for—I actually get to read the story. But what I’ve learned is that if I plan to read a story, I need to start prepping them a solid half hour before I plan to actually read it. Otherwise, story time may never happen!

Despite the chaos, though, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s something magical about the moment when they’re all sitting quietly, eyes glued to the book, asking curious questions about the characters and completely wrapped up in every word. It’s pure joy—those little moments make all the craziness worth it.

My family: the heart of my journey

20 September 2024

What to say about my family? Honestly, it feels like one of those elementary school assignments where you're tasked with describing your family members to show off your vocabulary. You know the ones—“My dad is tall and funny. My mom loves cooking.” But trust me, this isn’t just a school project; it’s the real deal, and I want to share just how much they mean to me!

As I bravely tiptoe into adulthood (or whatever this stage is called), I’m realizing just how pivotal my family has been in shaping me. It’s like suddenly getting the plot twist in a movie you’ve watched a hundred times—everything starts to make sense! Since moving to Ireland and becoming a mostly independent adult, I’ve started to appreciate each family member in a whole new light.

Let’s talk about my childhood for a moment. I was a champion tantrum thrower whenever I didn’t get my way. Picture a tiny tornado of frustration! Now, working with little ones in my preschool class, I see that same fiery spirit in them. Kids just don’t get boundaries; they only know they want that toy or that delicious jelly! Meanwhile, parents are busy thinking, “She needs to learn to handle disappointment!” Seriously, it’s a miracle my parents didn’t start a support group for themselves!

And speaking of emotions, I was always the expressive type. If I was angry, my face could rival a weather forecast—sunshine one moment, thunderstorm the next! I’ve tried to dial it down (thank you, professional life), but if you’re close to me, good luck! My “annoyed” look is a thing of beauty.

My parents were the ultimate boundary enforcers. They never let my emotional outbursts win! I see that same determination in my interactions with my students when they get mad over not having a toy. I calmly explain that sometimes, the answer is just “no.” And trust me, it’s a tough gig! I can’t imagine how hard it was for my parents when their own little hurricane was demanding a toy or a treat.

Yet, through all that pressure to excel (hello, exam anxiety), they pushed me to be my best. I’d feel like I was scaling Mount Everest every time I had a test, but it instilled in me a drive to tackle challenges head-on. Now, whether at work or in my personal life, I’m ready to conquer whatever comes my way—cue the superhero music!

And then there’s my amazing brother, the cherry on top of this family sundae. I practically begged for him so I wouldn’t have to play alone, and poor guy became my living doll from day one. I’d wake him up just to have a playmate, fully convinced he woke up because he was dying to join me in my adventures. Spoiler alert: all he wanted was a nap!

He’s the kindest, smartest person I know. We might not chat daily (he’s busy being a genius), but he’s always there when I need him. From tech support for my latest project to helping me surprise our parents, he’s my right-hand man. And even though I’m almost six years older, he’s so independent that sometimes I wonder if I should be asking him for advice!

So here’s to my indispensables—my family, the colorful cast of characters who make my life a comedy show. Even when we’re far apart, I know they’re just a call away. I feel so incredibly lucky to have them, and I’ll never take that for granted. Not everyone gets to say they have this kind of support—so I know I hit the family jackpot!

Tiny voices, big laughs: the unpredictable joys of snack time

19 September 2024

Children—those little bundles of joy and mischief, always catching us off guard with the most unexpected comments. You’re left either on the verge of tears or laughing uncontrollably. Honestly, they’re the best. There’s really no other way to describe them!

Just yesterday, I was with them during snack time. On the menu: ham and cheese rolls with a side of pear. Of course, the pear had to be chopped into tiny pieces, because trust me, the drama that would unfold if it wasn’t is simply not worth it.

These kids have been in my class for an entire school year, so you’d think they’d have the snack routine down by now. You know, eat what you like, leave what you don’t, or share it with a friend. Simple, right? Well, not exactly. The moment they see their snack, it’s a chorus of "I don’t like cheese," "I don’t like ham," "I don’t like bread!" It’s like déjà vu, every single day.

So, I walk over to the first child who says they don’t like something and calmly remind them, "You can leave it on the side or give it to someone else." "Okay, teacher," they say, all innocent. But before I can hand the next child their snack, it starts again. "I don’t like cheese!" And then, like dominoes, every single one of them chimes in.

At this point, I stop, make a goofy face, and in my sweetest voice, ask, "Alright, friends, what do we do when we don’t like something at snack time?" They stare at me as if it’s the very first time they’ve encountered such a situation (despite the 842,757 times we’ve been here). So, with a silly grin, I tease them, “We put what we don’t like on our heads, right?”

"Nooo, silly teacher! We give it to our friends!" they giggle, eyes wide. "Oh, really? My mistake!" I play along, pretending to be the silliest teacher ever.

Honestly, how do their little minds work? I wish I knew! They surprise and delight me every day. I’ve learned to treasure these moments because their innocence is so pure, and they don’t even realize how funny they are. I’m lucky to spend my days with them, learning something new all the time.

Just yesterday, I had one of the funniest conversations ever. During snack time (yes, the "I don’t like cheese" drama was included), one child suddenly said, “I want my mum.” I replied, as I always do, “I know, I want my mum too.”

Here’s how the conversation went:

Child 1: Teacher, you don’t have a mum.
Me: Of course, I do!
Child 2: No, silly, you don’t have a mum!
Me: Yes, I do! Do you have a mum?
Child 2: Yeah, what’s your mum’s name?
Me: Maria, just like mine! Well, actually, our full name is Maria Jesus, but since it’s tricky for people who aren’t Spanish, I just go by Maria.
Child 3: Mariasú?
Me: No, no—Ma-ri-a Je-sús.
Child 2: That’s so funny!
Me: Is it? Do you think so?
Child 2: Yes!
Child 1 and Child 3 (laughing): That’s so, so funny!
Child 3: Do you have the same name as your mum?
Me: Yup, pretty cool, right?
Child 4 (super excited): Oh, yeah! That’s soooo cool!
Child 2: So you can go home to your mum after work?
Me: No, I can’t because she lives in Spain.
Child 1: Spain?!
Child 2: Yeah, silly, Maria is from Spain. Don’t you remember? (Cue more giggling)
Me: Yup, my family is in Spain, so I can’t see them after work, but I can call them.
Child 1: Well, we can be your mummies and daddies!
Me: Oh, that would be amazing! You could do the cleaning, shopping, cooking, make my bed, read me a bedtime story… (I pretend to think of more chores).
Child 3, deep in thought: Teacher?
Me: Yes?
Child 3: That’s soooo funny!

At this point, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Isn’t it hilarious how much we adults have to do? And I don’t even have kids of my own! I always say, parents deserve all the respect in the world. I don’t know how they manage it, but they’re incredible.

And that’s how my day went—being reminded that in the eyes of my little ones, adult life is “so funny.” How could I not absolutely love my job and these children who feel like my own?

From homebody to happy hangouts: how finding the right people changed everything"

18 September 2024

I used to be 100% sure that I was a hardcore introvert. The kind of person who would much rather stay home, curled up with a book or my laptop, than out socializing. Reading, writing, and studying solo? That was my idea of fun. Going out? No thanks. It made me anxious, and I never fully enjoyed it when I was with others. I was convinced that I just preferred quiet places and my own company. Who needs friends anyway, right? Well, that’s what I thought.

What I didn’t realize back then is that I hadn’t found my people yet. You know, the kind of people you just vibe with—where time flies and you feel completely at ease. If you’d told me a couple of years ago that I’d be hanging out with friends on a weeknight, knowing full well I had to work early the next day, I would’ve laughed in your face. Weekdays were sacred. Meeting people during the week? Absolutely not. If anyone wanted to see me, it had to be on the weekend, when I didn’t have to worry about feeling like a zombie at work the next day.

The truth was, I was forcing myself to hang out with people I didn’t really connect with. It’s not that there was anything wrong with them—it’s just that their values, ideas, and lifestyles didn’t align with mine. So, spending time with them felt exhausting, not energizing. No wonder I dreaded socializing on weeknights!

After a few big shifts in my life (some of my own choosing, some not), I ended up with a much smaller circle of friends. At first, it felt like a punch in the gut. I worried I’d be lonely forever and spent way too much time wallowing in self-pity. But then, something magical happened—I started focusing on the people who truly mattered, those who stuck by me when things got tough. And wow, what a difference.

I began to genuinely enjoy meeting up for coffee, having deep, meaningful conversations with friends who got me. These were the people I felt safe with, where there was zero judgment, and every conversation left me feeling like a better person. We laugh, we learn, we grow. It’s like a light bulb went off in my head: the problem was never going out; it was going out with the wrong people.

Now, I actually look forward to meeting my friends, even on a Tuesday night! The key difference? I know I’ll have a great time with them, so it’s not an effort anymore. Our conversations range from deep topics to totally silly ones, but no matter what, I feel heard, understood, and appreciated. I leave these hangouts feeling happy, relaxed, and just plain lucky. Even when I have to wake up early for work the next day, it doesn’t matter—I go to bed feeling so content, I drift off into the best sleep ever.

Sometimes, it’s not about changing you; it’s about changing who you surround yourself with. And right now, I’ve got the best people in my life. I wouldn’t trade them for the world, and I feel like the luckiest person to have found them.

A walk to remember: finding peace in the everyday

17 September 2024

Yesterday, I went for a walk. But not just any walk. It was one of those last-minute decisions—you know, the kind where you just feel like, “Why not?” Little did I know, this stroll would turn out to be much more meaningful than I could have imagined.

Originally, I had planned to attend a yoga class. But it was one of those rare, stunning days in Ireland: clear blue skies, warm (but not too warm) temperatures—the kind of weather that’s an absolute treasure here. If you’ve lived in Ireland long enough, you know these are the days you cannot waste. I’ve learned that lesson well since moving here. If the sun is out, so are you! Whether it’s grabbing coffee with friends, heading to the beach, or, as in my case, going for a walk—anything, as long as it’s outdoors.

Coming from Spain, where sunshine is basically a daily companion, I used to take it for granted. Now, whenever I wake up to a bright, sunny day, it’s like winning the lottery. It’s impossible not to feel a surge of positivity and energy. And I’m not the only one! Have you ever noticed how everyone’s mood lifts on a sunny day? It’s infectious, and I absolutely love it. Seeing others happy makes me happy—it’s like a chain reaction of good vibes.

But let me get back to yesterday’s walk. Instead of yoga, I decided to head out for my usual stroll on The Green Way, this new path that’s quickly become my favorite spot. As I was driving there, though, I noticed the tide was up. That’s when I had a lightbulb moment—what about the old woods I used to visit? They end at this stunning lakeside view, and with the tide high, I knew it’d be magical. So, in true spontaneous fashion, I changed my plan, found a parking spot, and set off into the woods.

It had been over a year since I last visited those woods, and I couldn’t wait to be surrounded by that calming green again. I had my music on at first, but as I ventured deeper, I felt this urge to pull out my earphones and just listen to nature—the birds, the rustling leaves, the stillness. There’s something so peaceful about hearing the world as it is.

When I reached the lake, I found a fallen branch and sat down, taking it all in—the soft waves, the quiet, the birds. But here’s the thing: as much as I loved it, something felt different. I realized that in the past, I used to come to this spot searching for peace. Back then, I lived on a busy street, where the constant hum of people, cars, delivery trucks, and pub barrels clattering made silence a rare luxury. My walks in the woods were my escape, my reset button.

But now? Now, I have that peace every day. And it hit me—I’ve built a life that gives me exactly what I used to chase after. I’ve chosen a home where calm and quiet are the norm, a space that lets me breathe and clear my mind without needing to seek it out somewhere else.

Sitting there by the lake, I couldn’t help but feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude. I was proud of myself for listening to my needs, for creating a life that truly makes me happy. Even my landlords next door feel like part of this home that I’ve found. It’s funny how a simple walk can remind you just how far you’ve come.

Yesterday wasn’t just a walk; it was a moment of reflection, a little celebration of the fact that I’ve managed to create a life filled with the things that matter most to me—peace, quiet, and the freedom to enjoy sunny days whenever they decide to make an appearance.

One of the craziest days at preschool - no doubt about it!

15 September 2024

If I had to pick the wildest day I’ve had working at preschool, this one definitely wins. It was one of those days where you just know things are going to get interesting.

We started the day with some staff out sick, which made things challenging. On top of that, the junior infants from primary school (who come for afterschool care) finished early due to their adaptation period schedule. So, we had to get creative about where to put them until the rest of the day’s activities kicked in.

The Morning Madness Begins

The morning went surprisingly well! I managed to stay on top of everything, which, honestly, comes with the territory after years in the field. The key? Prioritizing. As long as the kids are happy, safe, and entertained, we’re golden. We got through snack time, bathroom breaks, and the highlight of the week—the Friday party. There’s nothing like a room full of dancing, giggling kids to lift the mood.

Everything was under control, and I was feeling great. But little did I know, the real action hadn’t even started yet.

The Afterschool Crew Arrives

As the afterschool children started arriving, it definitely added a little extra buzz to the school. We always make it work, though! The best solution? Let’s take it outside! Nothing like a bit of fresh air and a wide-open space to burn off that afterschool energy. They were running, laughing, and just loving it. And I was loving the fact that they were getting out their energy!

The Soccer Ball Saga

Of course, no good outdoor playtime is complete without a little soccer drama. The kids were excited, but you know how it goes—soccer balls have a way of finding kids’ faces. First, one child gets bumped by the ball and starts crying. I do my best to comfort them while keeping an eye on the rest of the group. Then, not five minutes later, it happens again to another child. After a third incident, I had to make the tough call: “Sorry, guys, no more soccer!” You should’ve seen their faces—pure heartbreak! But safety comes first.

Just when I thought I’d handled the soccer crisis, I got a little surprise. Two children from the other classroom needed a nappy change. Oh joy! So, I kept the rest of the kids entertained outside while we handled the situation.

Multitasking to the Max

At this point, I’m juggling more tasks than I can count, but hey, nothing I haven’t done before. Then, the doorbell rings—not once, not twice, but four times in quick succession. You know that feeling when you’re just trying to keep everything under control, and then one more thing gets thrown into the mix? Yeah, that was me. I couldn’t leave the kids, but I also couldn’t ignore the door. After a quick call for backup, we figured it out. I managed to escort a child to their parent, who was thankfully very understanding of the situation.

Chaos Central

When I got back to the classroom, it looked like a scene out of a comedy sketch. Toys were everywhere, kinetic sand had taken over (not just the table, but the floor and the kids' hair too), and the afterschoolers were in a full-on Pokémon card showdown. To top it off, a couple of kids were speaking excitedly in Russian, and another was trying to scale the gate. I had to take a deep breath. Laugh? Cry? Both? I wasn’t sure.

The Grand Finale

Just when I thought I was running on empty, I heard the sweetest sound: the other teachers arriving! “Afterschoolers, it’s time to head to the blue room!” one of my colleagues called out. I could finally exhale. The rest of the day might have been a whirlwind, but we made it.

Everyone was safe, happy, and—most importantly—tired. And in the world of preschool, that’s a win!

Nine years in Ireland: a life-changing leap

11 September 2024

Exactly nine years ago today, on the 11th of September, I boarded a plane that would take me to Ireland—a country I had never visited but felt drawn to. Little did I know that this "simple" decision would change my life in the most amazing ways!

I remember being a bundle of nerves and excitement all at once. Leaving my family behind was tough, but deep down, I had a feeling that this was the start of an incredible adventure. And wow, was I right!

Since stepping foot in Ireland, it feels like I’ve lived so many different lives, each one filled with its own unique experiences. The first two years, I was an au pair, and let me tell you, those were some of the best times of my life. The family I lived with made me feel like one of their own—taking me on little outings to explore beautiful spots, treating me to cozy coffee shop visits, and even helping me practice my English during walks with the mum. I also met a bunch of other au pairs from all around the world. Some were brief encounters at pub meet-ups, while others became close friends, and we shared unforgettable trips and adventures together. We swapped stories, laughed, and learned about each other's cultures, sometimes over a pint or two!

I learned so much during that time—like the frustration of not understanding a group conversation (everyone else seemed to speak the same language except me!) and the kindness of people who’d switch to English just so I could be part of it. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to me.

Some of those au pairs became lifelong friends. We had movie nights, danced until dawn, and spent endless weekends exploring different pubs and nightclubs in the city. Every moment felt new and exciting, and my heart just swelled with love for this place. Ireland has a way of making you feel welcome—like you’ve always belonged here. The people are incredibly warm and friendly, and I couldn’t have felt more at home, even though I was miles away from my family in Spain.

Eventually, my time as an au pair came to an end, and it was time to find a job. Not an easy task! I spent weeks sending out CVs, going to interviews, and hoping for the best. But luck was on my side again when a friend helped me land my first job. And wow, I couldn’t have been happier. Every morning, I woke up excited to go to work, eager to see the bright little faces in my classroom. The joy and fulfillment I felt were beyond words, and the amount I learned... well, that’s another story!

It’s funny—one of my friends once told me that my life in Ireland feels like a TV series, with different "seasons" marking different phases. And they were right. I’ve passed through so many seasons: learning to adapt to a brand-new culture, figuring out life in a relationship, growing into independence, and discovering what it truly means to be a grown woman. Each season has taught me something valuable, and each one has made me fall even more in love with this country.

I can honestly say that Ireland has become my second home. I’m beyond grateful for the people I’ve met here—the friends who feel like family, the community that’s always supported me, and the job that makes me so proud. This place has allowed me to relax, clear my mind, and just be. The Irish way of life—taking things slow, enjoying the little moments, and spreading kindness wherever they go—has been the perfect antidote to my busy brain.

Nine years ago, I made a choice that changed everything. And looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m proud of the life I’ve built here, the person I’ve become, and the lessons I’ve learned along the way. Each chapter has been special, and I know that there’s still so much more to come.

Thank you, Ireland, for all you’ve given me. Here’s to the next adventure! 🍀

Where theory meets real-life chaos (and joy!)

07 September 2024

Looking back, I can honestly say I loved my degree. It wasn’t just about the coursework—it was the friendships I built with people who shared my passion, and all the incredible things I learned about teaching, the inner workings of children’s minds, and the fascinating differences between them.

One of the highlights was my work experience. I was lucky enough to land in a classroom with a teacher who was clearly passionate about what she did. You could just feel her love for teaching and her dedication to the kids. She created a space where children could be themselves, while still maintaining important boundaries—teaching them what’s okay and what’s not okay, so they could grow into respectful, confident little humans. It was inspiring to watch her balance warmth with structure so effortlessly.

I loved every single day of that experience. And I was extra lucky because I got to return to the same class the following year! This made it even more special, as I saw firsthand how much those little ones had grown and changed. Their personalities were really starting to take shape, and they were becoming more independent, full of their own ideas and quirks.

The teacher I worked with taught me so much. From getting the children to actually listen during circle time, to tailoring lessons to meet each child’s unique needs, and setting those all-important boundaries (which, let’s be honest, took me a while to master because how can you be serious when they give you those adorable looks?).

That’s when it hit me: theory is great—absolutely necessary, in fact—but nothing prepares you for what it’s really like to work with kids until you’re in the classroom, on the front lines. Sure, all that theory sounds amazing, but when you're standing in front of a room full of kids, reality hits, and you have to think on your feet. Theory number one? Didn’t work. Theory number two? Also didn’t work. Suddenly, a kid does something unexpected, and bam, an idea sparks out of nowhere—and it works! That’s the magic of teaching. It’s an ever-evolving process of trial and error, creativity, and adaptation.

Now, don’t get me wrong, the theory is super important. You absolutely need to understand child development, how their minds work, what approaches are effective, and what isn’t. But real learning happens when you’re hands-on, navigating each unique little personality and figuring out what actually works for them (which, spoiler alert, won’t always be the same thing twice!).

And honestly? Teaching little ones is the most rewarding job I could ever imagine. The genuine hugs when they see you in the morning, the mischievous grins when they know they’re up to no good—it’s those moments that make everything worth it. Not to mention how much they teach me every single day. I’m convinced I learn more from them than they do from me! The way they unknowingly help me grow as a person and see the world in new ways—it’s a gift.

I can truly say that I love my job, but what I cherish most is knowing that I can make those little ones’ days just a little brighter. I can create a space where they feel safe to be themselves, without fear of judgment.

So, if you ask me today, I know without a doubt: I chose the right path. And I couldn’t be more grateful for where this journey has taken me.

How did I end up studying Preschool Teaching?

29 August 2024

If I’m being honest, teaching—or maybe just bossing people around—has always been in my blood. Call it what you will, but some of my earliest memories involve me standing in front of a blackboard at home. I can still picture it perfectly: the yellow letters at the top, big capital ones followed by the smaller ones. I spent countless hours with that board, scribbling, coloring, and pretending to teach my ever-patient teddy bears. Seriously, I could have done that all day without getting bored.

It wasn’t just the toys, though. I loved helping others understand things that clicked for me but seemed tricky to them. I remember this one time in secondary school—there was this super confusing unit that no one could grasp, no matter how many times the teacher explained it. My cousin stepped in, broke it down for me, and suddenly, it all made sense. The next day, I found myself explaining it to my classmates, and the satisfaction I felt when they finally got it? Pure magic. It was like, "Wow, I can actually teach!"

Even during break time in primary school (we had preschool and primary together in Spain), I’d gravitate towards the younger kids, showing them how to build sandcastles or play with different toys. Looking back, I guess I was lucky to figure out early on what I wanted to do in life. I know not everyone has that clarity, but for me, the path was pretty obvious.

When it came time to decide what to study after secondary school, there wasn’t much of a debate. I went straight for a teaching degree, thinking, “This is going to be a breeze—I’ve got this!” Well, reality check: it wasn’t as easy as I thought. Sure, some subjects were a walk in the park, but others? Let’s just say memorization has never been my strong suit.

Still, university life was great. I made amazing friends, had a blast working on group assignments (complete with the occasional argument), and grew up a lot. Even though I was still living with my parents—which, let’s be real, made things a lot easier—I had no idea what the real world of teaching was like. I thought I was all set to be a teacher… until I landed my first job in a childcare setting in Ireland.

But that’s a story for another day!

Crafting Maria: a character beyond the stereotype

27 August 2024

I finally found the perfect name for the girl in my book—Maria. But now came the challenge of bringing her to life visually. As I mentioned in my previous post, I wanted Maria to "teach" something valuable to children without saying a word. I wanted her to embody values that kids could absorb just by looking at her. This meant every detail of her appearance had to be carefully considered.

So, I dove into the details: her height, her weight, the color of her hair… What would she wear? I sat down with my thoughts, considering all the values I wanted to pass on to the little ones. One thing became crystal clear—there would be no princess dress for Maria. No way! I wanted something different, something that would break away from the usual girl character mold. A skirt? Jeans? Leggings? After much brainstorming, I settled on overalls.

The choice of overalls took me back to my childhood, to that one pair I practically lived in. I wore them day in and day out, and when my mom washed them, I couldn’t wait to put them back on. Those overalls were my everything, so of course, Maria had to wear them too. And no, they wouldn’t be pink—absolutely not. There’d be no unicorns, no rainbows, no princess motifs. Don’t get me wrong, I adore all those things—I practically live in a world of rainbows and unicorns! But Maria wasn’t going to be your typical girl character. I wanted her to be loved for her personality, not just for wearing “cute clothes.”

Next up: her shoes. Shiny pink shoes were off the table. Instead, I decided Maria would rock a pair of boots—something comfy and sturdy that she could wear anywhere, without worrying about dirt or them falling off. Boots felt just right.

Then came the toughest decisions: Should she be blonde? What color should her eyes be? Long hair or short? After some serious thinking, I decided Maria would have brown hair and eyes, just like mine. And to give her an extra layer of relatability, I decided she’d wear glasses. Sure, glasses are pretty common for kids these days, but I hoped that seeing a character wearing them might help those who feel self-conscious about their own specs.

I also remembered stories my mom told me about her long, curly hair that was a nightmare to comb but looked absolutely gorgeous. Curly hair hasn’t always been celebrated, so I wanted Maria to have it too—another way to show kids that all types of hair are beautiful.

With that, Maria came to life in my mind. I knew exactly what she would look like. She needed to be warm and friendly, just like our character Al. And when the illustrator brought her to life on the page, she was exactly as I’d imagined. Maria was the perfect friend for Al, and I couldn’t wait to see the adventures they’d embark on together.

Naming Maria: the journey behind the perfect character

25 August 2024

I already had my main character—the one who would have to learn Spanish from scratch. Now I needed someone to teach him. I thought of a little girl, someone the kids could relate to.

But what should I name her? It had to be something easy, just like our main character's name. Something they could pronounce, but it had to be in Spanish. After all, if this alien had to learn Spanish, it meant someone Spanish had to teach him. Everything would take place in Spain, so this girl had to be Spanish and, of course, have a Spanish name.

Once again, I grabbed my pen and notebook and started jotting down every name that came to mind, from the modern to the old-fashioned: Jacinta, Carmen, Irene, Antonia, Andrea... every name under the sun.

This time, the decision came while I was sitting on the couch, chatting with my partner at the time. We were talking about the book, and we both agreed that the name had to be memorable. He said “Maria,” and I was like, “yeah?” To which he replied, “No, no, the girl HAS to be named Maria.” At first, I wasn't sure—it felt a bit presumptuous. How could I name a character after myself? I didn’t want to seem egotistical, but after thinking it over, I decided that’s exactly what her name would be. Not out of vanity, but because the kids I taught would see that character as more than just a character. Maria would also be "Al's" teacher, making her someone they could identify with even more. What started as a random idea, one I wasn’t fully convinced about, soon became a reality. And sure enough, when I read my book to the kids in my class, they always smile and say, “Look, it’s you!” They love seeing me "reflected" in that book they adore, and they keep asking me to read it again and again.

So, the name was chosen, and I was happy with it. Now it was time to decide what Maria would look like. Would she have short hair? Long hair? Brown? Blonde? What would this little girl, who would accompany Al throughout his adventure in Spain, look like? There was a lot to think about. I didn’t want her to be just another character. I wanted her to convey values simply by being seen, without having to say a word. At first glance, this girl had to send a message. And it wasn’t easy; there was a lot to consider, but that’s a story for another time because it wasn’t a simple task. So if you want to know how I decided what Maria would look like, stay tuned!

Creating Al: the alien with a heart!

22 August 2024

So, I finally nailed down who my characters would be. But then came the real challenge: what on Earth (or beyond) would they look like? And what kind of personalities would they have? Spoiler alert: this was no walk in the park!

Let’s start with the main star—the alien. I knew right away this was a winning idea. I mean, an alien who has to learn Spanish from scratch and figure out how to survive on our wacky planet? Pure gold! But first things first—this little guy needed a name. So, I grabbed my trusty journal and started jotting down every name under the sun. Funny names, serious names, kid-friendly names, Irish names, Spanish names—you name it, I wrote it.

After staring at my list like it was the Da Vinci Code, I had a lightbulb moment: the name had to be short and sweet, something even the tiniest humans could remember and say without a hitch. Then it hit me—this guy’s an alien, right? And “alien” starts with “Al”… so why not just call him Al? Boom, problem solved! Al the Alien was officially born.

Now that we had the name, it was time to bring Al to life. I always pictured him as the friendliest little alien in the galaxy—someone so cute and charming that kids would want to be his best friend, give him a big hug, and never let go. Kids love anything that’s adorable and friendly, right?

So, I started brainstorming. How many eyes should he have? Should he rock some antennae? What about hands and legs? So many decisions! But after lots of doodling and daydreaming, I finally came up with the perfect look for Al.

Months later, the illustrator absolutely nailed it. She brought my vision to life even better than I imagined! Kids and parents have told me how much they love the illustrations, and I couldn’t be happier with how Al turned out. A huge shoutout to Maria González León for capturing Al’s vibe perfectly. I couldn’t love this little guy more!

And that’s how Al, the main character, came to be. Stay tuned to learn more about our other character, Maria!

Character quest

21 August 2024

The main idea was clear: this book had to be interactive. After all, if the kids were going to stick around, they needed to be part of the action!

But then came the tricky part. Who would the characters be? What’s the story? And how on earth could I create something that would make kids jump into the story, interacting with the characters like they were old friends?

After a lot of brainstorming, I had a lightbulb moment. The main characters should be just like the kids—completely clueless about Spanish! That way, the kids would see themselves in the story and feel an instant connection. But… who should these characters be? And hold on, if they don’t know Spanish, how are they going to learn it? Someone’s got to teach them, right?

My mind went wild with possibilities—from talking animals to the most outlandish creatures you can imagine—until I finally landed on the perfect idea. The main character had to be an alien. Think about it: aliens don’t speak Spanish (well, probably not… but who knows?). Kids would totally relate to an alien learning a new language, just like them! Plus, this alien wouldn’t know a thing about Earth, which is perfect because kids are just starting to figure out the world too. It’s a win-win—everyone’s learning together! So, an alien it is!

But who’s going to teach Spanish to this curious little extraterrestrial? After some more pondering, I decided it had to be a little girl. Kids would definitely connect with her, and who better to teach an alien Spanish than a child?

With my characters in place, I was over the moon! I couldn’t imagine a better combo. Now all that’s left is to give them names, personalities, and a look… but we’ll save that fun for another post.

Stay tuned!

How a dog hunt sparked my book idea

20 August 2024

The morning started like any other—I walked into my classroom, ready to face a room full of tiny humans with boundless energy. But today, my mission was different. My goal? To observe every little one in my care, to figure out what truly caught their attention. Why? Because I had a dream of writing a book that would help them learn Spanish, and to do that, I needed to crack the code on what made them tick.

Here’s a fun fact about me: when I start thinking about something, my brain goes into overdrive. One idea turns into another, and before I know it, my head is bursting with thoughts, each one bigger than the last. So, there I was, keenly watching these kiddos as they played, figuring out what made them light up with interest.

During one of these free play sessions, a tiny voice piped up, “Can you read us a book?” Of course, I obliged, and they picked a story that made them search for hidden objects, like a little scavenger hunt on paper. “Where’s the dog?” the book asked. Suddenly, they were all in—eyes wide, little fingers flipping pages, each child desperate to be the one who found that elusive dog.

And just like that, I had my first lightbulb moment: I needed to create a book that required interaction. A book where the kids wouldn’t just listen passively but would dive in headfirst—searching, answering, finding. Something that would make them feel like they were part of the story, not just spectators. I quickly scribbled down this idea. It was a small step, sure, but an important one.

Each little revelation was bringing me closer to writing the perfect book—one that would not only captivate their imaginations but also sneak in some Spanish lessons along the way.

Fast forward a few months, that idea turned into a real book. A book that started with just a simple observation during playtime but became something that kids could interact with and, most importantly, love while learning Spanish. All thanks to those little ones and their dog-finding mission!

My first short story

19 August 2024

Here it is, my very first short story, written when I was just 10 years old! This little gem made me a finalist in my city’s writing competition during the 2003 book fair. Who would've thought that a kid with a head full of wild ideas could make it that far? I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Ana's Wishes

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Ana who had never celebrated her birthday because her parents were very poor. The day before her birthday, Ana prayed for many gifts the next day and thought, “I would really love to have a Barbie, a bicycle, a dog... how much fun I would have!”

That night, her father came home from work and was very tired, as he worked in the mines extracting coal and earned very little money. Ana, seeing her father so tired, thought, “Poor dad! He spends the whole day working so we can eat. I think I'll change one of my wishes; I don’t want the dog. What I want is for my father to find a less exhausting job so that when he comes home, he can play with me.”

While they were having a little soup for dinner, Ana saw on TV many starving children and thought, “I think I’ll change another wish. I don’t want the Barbie doll! What I want is for all the starving children to be able to have soup like I do.”

In the news, she saw that there was a war; many innocent people were being killed: children losing their parents, other children losing arms or legs, and she thought, “Poor people in the war! I think I’ll change my last wish. I don’t want the bicycle! I want the war to end and for all children to have their parents.”

Ana went to bed very happy, and as she was falling asleep, a fairy godmother appeared to her and said, “Since you’ve had such good wishes for others, I will grant you any toy you want.” Ana, after thinking for a while, said, “What I wish for most is that my dad doesn’t have to work so much so he won’t be so tired.”

The next day, Ana woke up and saw her father very happy. He picked her up and said, “My dear, I’ve been offered a better job! I won’t have to work so much and will be able to play with you every day.”

For Ana, that birthday was the happiest of her life.

How did it all start? (Part 2)

16 August 2024

After searching all over the internet and asking just about everyone in my Facebook groups (yes, all 843,587 of them—I went a little wild joining groups when I first landed in Ireland as an au pair), I realized there wasn’t a single book I could recommend to this mom who really wanted to help her little one keep learning Spanish at home.

There were plenty of bilingual books (in both English and Spanish) and plenty for teaching Spanish in primary schools, but they were all too academic, which was definitely not what this mom was looking for. I needed to find something fun, easy, and that her kid would actually enjoy while soaking up the language she clearly loved.

That night, I went to bed feeling a little down because I was so sure I’d be able to come up with a bunch of great options. But just as I was getting comfy and about to drift off, an idea popped into my head like magic. It was like a little voice whispered, “Why don’t you write a book yourself?” I mean, seriously, why didn’t I think of this before? I’ve always loved writing (I used to win writing competitions in primary and secondary school), so I quickly made a note in my phone to check it out the next day. It was way too late to start that night—I had to be up early for work—but I just knew this idea was going to lead to something nice. I could feel it!

How did it all start? (Part 1)

14 August 2024

Now that some time has passed, it feels like publishing my first children’s book was easy. But let me tell you, it wasn’t. Not even close. In fact, it was more like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded while riding a unicycle. Spoiler alert: I didn’t nail it on the first try.

The whole process began with an endless amount of research. I had to figure out how to do it, what to do, who to contact, and of course, the big one—how much would this cost me? (Could I even afford it? Spoiler alert again: I wasn't sure I could!) There are so many things you need to know before writing—and even more before publishing—a book.
I’ve always loved writing, as I mentioned in my previous entry, but writing a book? That was something else entirely. Sure, the thought had crossed my mind once or twice, but I never thought I’d actually do it. I mean, that’s what other people did, right?

It wasn’t until I started working at the preschool where I’m currently employed that the idea really took root. We teach Spanish there, which was new for me but so much fun—plus, the kids loved it. It became their little secret language, like a code they could use that adults around them couldn’t crack. Watching them pick up new words at lightning speed, I kept brainstorming different ways to teach them more: games, arts and crafts, activities... you name it.

Then, one day, one of the moms asked me if I knew of any books that could help her keep up with her child’s newfound love for Spanish. Her little one was soaking up the language like a sponge and kept asking how to say this or that in Spanish, but she couldn’t help. I immediately told her I’d look into it and let her know.

And that’s when the research rabbit hole opened up, and down I went...

From lists to blogging: a Spanish girl's new adventure

13 August 2024

I’m María Jesús, a 31-year-old Spanish girl who traded sunny Spain for the emerald hills of Ireland back in 2015. If you’re curious about the details of my journey, feel free to check out the "About" section. But for now, let’s get to the good stuff!

After releasing my first children’s book, “Al Gets Lost in Spain,” and after thinking about it for a while, I’ve decided to dive into the world of blogging.
I wish I could tell you how often I’ll be posting or what topics I’ll cover, but honestly, I have no clue! What I do know is that I’m really excited to start this new adventure, and I can’t wait to see where it takes us.

I’ve always loved writing. Whether it’s scribbling down shopping lists, jotting down to-do lists, pouring out my heart on paper, tackling those tough conversations when words just won’t come out in person, or whipping up stories from thin air—I’m all in. Basically, if it involves words, I’m there. So, why not give this blogging thing a go?

It might turn out to be amazing, and I’ll be over the moon. Or, it might flop spectacularly, and guess what? I’ll still be over the moon because I’ll have spent my time doing something I absolutely love—writing!

That’s all I’ve got for now. I’m excited to see where this journey leads, and I hope you’ll stick around for the ride.

Stay tuned!