Last summer I knew nothing whatsoever about nurseries or preschools, or even whether they were the same thing. Having just moved to Swindon, I had the task of organising a nursery place for my daughter to start in the September, so I began ringing around. Some of the nurseries I spoke to seemed rather shocked at the idea that I would be applying for a place so late in the day (as if I had a choice in the matter), while others dismissively said they'd put my daughter's name at the bottom of their very long waiting list. Then I called the Cooperative Nursery, which is conveniently placed next to the hospital where my partner was working, and they could not have been more helpful. They got a place sorted out that very day, answered all the silly questions I had about how everything from payments to pick-up times worked, and arranged a visit for us to look around. As she was unused to being left anywhere without me or her mum, the staff at the nursery encouraged me to stay and play for a bit during the first few sessions whilst she got used to the place; to be honest, I needn't have stayed after the first one, as she settled so quickly. By allocating one of the staff as a 'key person' for her, it was clear that my daughter very quickly felt at home, and always had someone to go to with her problems.
As the year progressed, I would regularly get to hear about how she was progressing at nursery. Despite how busy pick-up and drop-off times could be, the teachers always had time to share a quick word about the kids and how they'd got on each day, and on top of that we periodically received reports on her development relative to the standards expected for her age group. The food provided in the afternoons was fairly simple, but sufficiently varied to ensure that she would stop playing long enough to eat something most days.
As an aside, I genuinely think that the staff deserve some kind of medal for the combined hours that they must have spent applying suncream over the summer months; every day when I dropped my daughter off one of the teachers had the bottle, and they were scrupulous about ensuring that none of the kids went outside without proper protection from the sun (or rain - this is the UK after all).
When the time came to say goodbye, and all the leavers had trooped up in their gowns and mortar boards to collect their certificates (with varying degrees of aplomb), I felt nothing but gratitude to the wonderful staff at the nursery who gave me a few valuable hours to myself each week; and who had made both myself and my daughter feel so welcome. If the teachers at her new school are half as good as the ones we've left behind, we will consider ourselves very fortunate indeed.
