A Working Mum and a Home-educating Dad – How We Make It Work

A Working Mum and a Home-educating Dad – How We Make It Work

My wife and I are not ‘normal’. Amongst our peers and our family members we are the outliers, the ones that have chosen a slightly different ‘lifestyle path’ to everyone else. For a start, we are home-educating, but you’ve probably guessed that already. Nicola is, at the time of writing, a curate in the Church of England. This too, is not the norm. And even within our home education community we are unusual as Nicola is the one that is out at work, earning a crust, whilst I, Matt, am one of a rare breed of home-educating dads.

We started home-educating when Nicola started her training at Trinity College in Bristol. We moved there from Surrey, where I was a youth worker and Nicola was a part-time self-employed occupational therapist. Up until our move to Bristol, our two daughters had been in mainstream school (both in the same, really good, nurturing primary school) but we had started to consider home education as a viable option ever since our good friends had started home educating and we had seen their children thrive. We were possibly only going to be in Bristol for a couple of years whilst Nicola studied, so to minimise the disruption to our daughters’ lives we decided we would join up with our friends and home-educate our children together. Time goes quickly and we are now into our fourth year of this home education journey; what follows is a picture of how we have made it work as a family where the dad is at home and the mum is out at work.

How we make it work: tips and principles

Shared vision

The first thing is to have a shared idea of what home education is, a common vision as it were. More crucially, in our experience, it’s about working out together what you think is important for your children: what sort of people do you want them to be? What are the values that you want to expose them too and instil in them? Learning facts is actually secondary (in my opinion) and, as a couple, you may disagree on what’s vital in their formal education (times tables are one of those issues in our household). However, you can agree that you want your children to be (or at least have the opportunity to be) creative, kind, confident, curious, caring… Keeping these end goals in view puts everything else in perspective. And, that even includes learning times tables!

The cost

Ever since we have started home educating, we’ve been aware that it costs. It costs money. It costs time. It costs your original hair colour. But I suppose you can say that about parenting in general (and we can testify that it’s also worth every penny, second, grey hair and wrinkle)! It is worth taking time to recognise this. We all have to explore the financial implications and plan for this, this is obvious. The less obvious implication of following this path is the potential cost of being misunderstood by family and friends, feeling like you are disconnected from ‘normal’. On some days this is liberating, on other days you can feel “wobbly”. We have to recognise that these emotions are real. It has highlighted to us that this is not a road to walk alone but to find a community to walk with. This has been essential for us on our journey, particularly as we moved to a new city when we started home educating.

Playing to our strengths and not playing to our strengths

I’m a natural educator. I love learning and so it followed that I would be the one who did the home education. Our circumstances also determined who was at work and who was at home, although we ultimately did have a choice. I don’t find planning or budgeting easy, but Nicola is fabulous at both, so leads the way with those things. She is very organised – I am not – so it follows that she helps out with that side of our home education. For example, recently, Nicola has been producing monthly plans for our girls so that they know what is coming up.

There is a tension with just playing to your strengths, however, as there is great opportunity to be had in children seeing how their parents learn how to do things that aren’t in their ‘sweet spot’.

Additionally, it can be very beneficial for the non-home-educating parent to get involved when and where they can. Nicola’s present work schedule means that she can take the girls to different groups. This keeps their relationship going, she sees what they are up to (even home-educated children can be very minimal in their response to the question “How was your day today?”!) and it gives me a bit of a break!

 

This is an extract taken from the book “Another Way to Learn? Discovering the Beauty of Home Education” due to be published in September 2022. It has been slightly edited from the original (with the author’s permission).You can find out more about the book and pre-order a copy here: https://www.anotherwaytolearn.co.uk/

Consider the Trees

Consider the Trees

I’m usually the first one awake and this morning was no exception. I walked out to my spot in the living room, Moreton Bay glimmering on the horizon, a thin strand of silver under an overcast sky. We were blessed early last year to find a secluded rental property with incredible views, perfect for reflection and meditation. I knelt down to pray, somewhat ashamed of my recent relapse into worry; my wife and I lost our jobs early in the year due to government mandates, and since then I have been trying to get my tuition business off the ground. When I’m worried or stressed, I inevitably treat my family with less kindness and patience.

This morning, God directed my attention – don’t worry about worry – to the trees, a veritable forest of eucalypts stretching heavenward, so tall, swaying gracefully in the breeze. This natural ease overwhelmed the incessant ticking of the clock, which until then had been tapping on my shoulder. Time is passing, time is passing, it nagged. The clock pressured me to do, to act, to use whatever time was available to develop the business in some way that, admittedly, may or may not be effective. The trees called me to be, to dance in the breath of my Creator, to live by the Spirit rather than by the flesh. Look, He nourishes us with rain and sun, with rich soil – we don’t have to do a thing. Ah, but I still have to do things, so many things. Where is the balance between being and doing? What a tired, unimaginative question. The tree moves as it is moved. The leaf in the stream is racing without an ounce of effort. If I rest in the Spirit, I will inevitably do … whatever He moves me to do.

When my wife and I lost our jobs, we withdrew our children – aged 14, 12, and 10 – and resumed homeschooling (my wife had homeschooled our eldest for two years before our precocious third arrived). Our family had spent several years in mainstream education, with a few of those years at the same school together. The change this year has been, well, significant, and it has taken time to adjust. We’re still adjusting, in fact, and that’s okay. What’s the rush?

This morning, I decided I would give the morning to the family – any mornings I don’t have a class or Zoom meeting – and the afternoon to the business. My youngest has shown great enthusiasm for the drums, and talent, too. My eldest is responding in different creative ways to Fahrenheit 451, and my daughter, our secure middle child (!) is excited to contribute to the group music class I run on Tuesday afternoons. More than these activities, my kids just want me. Oh, and my wife feels perfectly at peace when she wakes to hear a happy family, sharing life and growing together.

Now, if I can only remember the trees, how they move and dance with the wind of the Spirit, completely dependent on their Creator, as we all are.