The Birth of This Digital Baby (And Why I Need a Dark Room)

I did it. I actually did it. (Thank you Colin from Ten to Ten you insight and knowledge have saved me weeks!)

I built this website myself. From scratch. No fancy design agency, just me, a terrifying number of open Google tabs, and a rotating cast of AI assistants (Gemini, Copilot, and ChatGPT) who probably now think I’m a very stressed-out woman with a tea dependency.

This site was powered by:

• Endless cups of builders’ tea (and the occasional glass of water for health).
• Mild-to-moderate panic.
• A vocabulary of swear words that would make a sailor—or a toddler—blush.
• Frequent bouts of shouting, screaming, and the occasional “whoop” when a button finally did what it was told.

There were moments where I stared at the screen and thought, “Claire, why? You’re a childminder, not a coder.” But then, between the 6 a.m. early starts and the afternoon meal runs, it would suddenly make sense.

A Proper Home for the Magic

For months, this space has been growing quietly in the background. My “brilliant creation”—Not Just a Childminder magazine needed more than just a corner of my brain. It needed a home.

The training, the resources, the small but steady support I’ve wanted to give back to this community… it’s all here.

Full disclosure: It’s not “polished to perfection.” It isn’t pretending to be a corporate, shiny, sterile machine. It’s just honest. It’s practical. It was built by someone who knows exactly what it feels like to have playdough in your hair and 10 copies of a magazine left to sell while navigating the teenage years of her own boys.

So, Have a Look Around…

If you’re new here, welcome. If you’ve been with me since the first 100 copies of the Autumn issue sold out, thank you.

• Have a wander. * Download a resource. * Read the blog. * Rest for a minute. (Because goodness knows we don’t do enough of that).

This is just the beginning.

One final rule: If you find a link that goes nowhere or a typo that makes no sense tell me next week. Tonight, I am officially off duty. My eyes are sore, my brain is fried, and I have a date with some very trashy TV and a sofa that doesn’t have any crumbs on it (hopefully).

Claire x