Why I Left Teaching to Start My Own Baby and Toddler Classes

A little while ago, I wrote about why I decided to leave teaching and start Read, Play, Create[👉 https://www.readplaycreate.com/post/starting-my-own-business-life-after-teaching.

That post was a snapshot of my decision – but so many of you reached out, and I realised I hadn’t really shared the full story. This blog goes deeper. It’s about the reality of teaching burnout, the toll it took on me, and how Archie inspired me to finally take the leap. So, grab a cuppa – here’s the journey in full...well maybe not full but almost.

Teaching Isn’t What It Used to Be (Or Maybe I’m Not)

Teaching has changed so much over the past few years – or maybe I’ve changed. The expectations have become next level. Unless you’re prepared to work, breathe, and live for teaching, it’s just too much. And I mean everything. Working before work, working after work – it’s bloody crazy!

I didn’t sign up for this. I wanted to teach. I wanted to inspire little minds, share knowledge, and create those “lightbulb” moments. But it became about so much more: mental health challenges, parenting struggles, behaviour management, admin, marking... Oh, and don’t forget the endless meetings. The teaching I loved was squeezed into smaller and smaller pockets of time.

To be fair, my last few classes were amazing. They listened, they wanted to learn, and I remembered what it felt like to love teaching. But those moments weren’t enough to outweigh everything else.

Here’s the thing about teaching: you don’t just do it; you live it. Every minute of your day is spoken for, and I’m not exaggerating.

After I had Archie, I used to get to school at 7:50 AM, and from the moment I walked through those doors, I didn’t stop. Not until I left, usually around 4 PM, on the verge of collapsing. I’d head home, grab a cup of tea, decompress for about five minutes, and then it was onto the next thing: picking Archie up, phoning parents, responding to emails, sorting dinner, bath time, bedtime… Then, once Archie was asleep (or in most cases, was not asleep), it was back to planning, more emails, and then – finally – bed.

Lunch breaks? Forget it. Most days, there just wasn’t time. And if I needed the toilet, I’d have to either hold it until the end of the day or sprint to get back before anyone noticed. I’m not joking. Maybe before Archie, I had more energy to keep up, but wow. Teachers, especially those with families, you are absolute superheroes.

The Pressure Was Relentless

My priority was always to make my lessons great – that’s what I loved. But sometimes, there wasn’t even time for that. Teaching was supposed to be my focus, yet the to-do lists, admin, and constant demands left me struggling to give my best.

And I know it’s not just me. So many of my teacher friends are in the same boat, completely burnt out. One pivotal moment for me was after a night of just two hours of broken sleep. I knew I shouldn’t go into work – I wasn’t well. But I’d already had a “trigger meeting” for my absence, and the pressure to avoid being off again was immense.

I went in. I cried. A lot.

And you know what? No one cared. Well, apart from my close friends, who did their best to support me. I asked for help, but the next day, my to-do list was somehow even longer. That was when I realised: I’m done with this.

In most jobs, being off sick is just that – you’re ill, you rest, and you recover. But when you’re a teacher? It’s a completely different story.

If you’re off, the work doesn’t stop. You still have to plan lessons for the classes you’re not even teaching that day. You’ll spend your precious sick day organising cover work, ensuring everything is ready for someone else to deliver – someone who likely has no idea how your class works, what they’re learning, or how to handle the trickier kids. The mental load of teaching doesn’t go away just because you’re unwell.

And the pressure to not take time off is horrendous. The guilt starts creeping in before you’ve even made the decision to stay home. Who will cover your lessons? What about the impact on the kids? How will this affect your absence record? It’s not just a case of calling in and letting your team handle things – you’re expected to manage your workload even when you’re flat-out in bed.

For teachers, being ill is rarely an opportunity to rest and recover. Instead, it feels like you're letting everyone down: the kids, your colleagues, the school. That pressure to show up, even when you’re so unwell you can barely function, is something that needs to change.

Teachers are human beings, not machines. We get sick, just like everyone else. It’s time for a system that supports teachers when they’re unwell – one that allows them to step back, recharge, and return to the classroom ready to give their best. Until then, the expectation to “power through” only adds to the already overwhelming load, leaving so many incredible teachers burnt out and broken.

The System Is Broken

Unfortunately, as so many people have told me over the years, teaching is just a job, and you’re just a number. I didn’t want to believe that – I wanted to think it was about more than that – but it’s true. The system is broken.

The last time I was actually in school, I remember staring at my ever-growing to-do list and thinking, how on earth am I going to get through this? Some classes were extra challenging, behaviour was tougher than usual, and even though I’d asked for help, the support just wasn’t there. Instead of things easing, it felt like I was being handed more and more to carry.

The very next morning, I woke up feeling awful—like, something isn’t right here awful. Long story short, I ended up in A&E for 13 hours with a suspected mini stroke. Thirteen hours of waiting, worrying, being prodded and scanned. In the end, I discharged myself (thank you NHS, but I couldn’t bear being in there any longer. That's a whole other story in itself), especially with Archie at home being looked after by my mum.

Anyway, I contacted work to let them know what had happened. And guess what I got back? A single message: “Thanks for the information.” That was it. No “Are you okay?” No “Hope you’re resting.” Nothing. And it stung. To be really honest, it still does.

Here’s the thing: yes, I’d had time off before. Time for Archie, time for my own mental health. I know schools are busy places. I know lessons need teaching, classes need covering, and that staff absence causes a headache. I get all of that. But human to human? A simple check-in, a “Hope you’re doing alright,” would have gone such a long way.

But I got nothing. Not once. Not when I was going in and out of hospital for scans, not when the doctors were investigating if I’d had a mini stroke. Nothing. And that’s when I knew. That was the moment I realised I couldn’t go back in. Teaching had already been wearing me down, but that lack of care—the silence when I needed someone to show even a little humanity—was the final straw.

There’s so little support for teachers. The expectation is to leave your personal life at the door, no matter what’s happening outside of school. But we’re human beings with feelings, emotions, and lives beyond the classroom. We need empathy, care, and respect – all the values we’re expected to teach the children. Yet, as teachers, we’re often shown none of that.

If you’re a parent reading this, please, be kind to your child’s teachers. They’re trying their best, and most of them care deeply. It’s not them that’s broken – it’s the system.

Teaching Is Tough

The moment the kids step into school, you’re in “on” mode. And it doesn’t stop until the last one leaves. It’s a constant hum (or drumbeat) of questions, comments, requests – a non-stop wave of neediness from 8:40 AM onwards. There's something about being 'teacher tired' it's a completely different type of exhaustion as your mind never stops. Not when you're out shopping, not when you're at home, not when you're in bed trying to sleep and not even when your dreaming. It is truly relentless.

Teaching will toughen you up – until it doesn’t. Until it’s too much. I have so much respect for the teachers still showing up, day after day, trying their best in impossible circumstances. You are amazing.

And to anyone reading this who isn’t a teacher: if you know one, or if your child has one, take a moment to thank them. They’re doing an incredible job, even if it doesn’t always show.

Archie Changed Everything

And then there was Archie. My beautiful, funny little boy turned my world upside down in the best and hardest ways. His laryngomalacia and health challenges made life intense – feeding struggles, sleepless nights, constant worry. I was trying to be everything for him and still be the teacher I wanted to be.

Obviously, I couldn’t.

I’m the kind of person who needs to do a job properly. Half-hearted doesn’t sit well with me. But I was so exhausted from 2–4 hours of broken sleep a night, endless to-do lists, and no mental space for the job. Something had to give, and that something was me.

I spiraled. I couldn’t give my best to my students, my colleagues, or Archie. It wasn’t fair on anyone. And honestly, what was the point of slogging away at a job for money to “live” when I wasn’t living at all? I was surviving, not thriving, and it wasn’t sustainable.

So, I quit.

Finding My Way Back to Me

The idea of running my own classes wasn’t new. I’d thought about it when I used to take Archie to baby groups. I loved those sessions – they were a highlight of our week. Watching him play, explore, and grow was incredible. I used to think, Wouldn’t it be amazing to create something like this?

When I made the decision to leave teaching, I needed a project – something for me. Something that could eventually support us financially, but also something I could pour my energy (the little I had) into. That’s when Read, Play, Create was born.

Let me tell you, this has been a lifeline. It’s given me purpose, motivation, and hope. I haven’t felt this excited in years. Designing classes, coming up with activities, thinking about how to make them magical – it’s brought me back to life. It’s also been good for my brain to have a little break from “Archie mode.” (Although, let’s be honest, he’s my official tester for everything – and he’s loving it!)

Why I’m All In

I need this to work, not just financially but for me. I’ve poured my heart into Read, Play, Create, and I truly believe in it. These classes aren’t just about fun and messy, sensory play; they’re about connection, imagination, and creating a space for parents and little ones to thrive.

Leaving teaching was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. But looking at where I am now – excited, motivated, and actually living again – I know it was the right one.

Here’s to new beginnings, big dreams, and a little boy who’s already inspired so much of this journey. If you’re in the area, come along and join us – let’s create something wonderful together. 💛