How Home Education Is Healing Our Bond With Our Daughter

And how a Potato (and Mr Tickle) Pushed Us Into Home Education…

We were never a fractured family - far from it - but we started to notice little behaviours creeping in from school that didn’t quite sit right with us. You know those moments when your child tells you something that makes your stomach drop? For us, it was the day our daughter came home and quietly said she’d been pushed into a bush by some Year 6s. My heart sank. She wasn’t hurt, thankfully, but something inside me shifted.

We home educate out of choice, and I feel incredibly lucky and grateful for that. We weren’t forced out of the system like so many others are - the school didn’t “let us down.” We just weren’t keen on where it was all heading. Plus, we live opposite a secondary school, and let’s just say… we’ve seen some scary (and occasionally heart-breaking) behaviour that really made us pause and think.

When we decided to home educate earlier than planned - July 2025 instead of waiting for secondary - we were exhausted. The endless school emails, the constant fundraising, the theme days that required props, costumes, and food donations… all of it. “Bring a pound for this,” “a tin of beans for that,” “don’t forget your angel outfit for the nativity,” and - my personal favourite - “please decorate a potato.”

A potato.

Honestly, that one nearly tipped me over the edge. There I was, staring at this poor spud thinking, what a waste. It would’ve made a lovely jacket potato with cheese and beans. But no - this humble potato had bigger plans. It was destined to become Mr Tickle - complete with bright orange paint, blue pipe cleaner arms, and a slightly unsettling grin.

The potato in question

On a serious note though, the constant rushing around every morning was breaking us.
“Get dressed.”
“Sit still so I can do your hair.”
“Brush your teeth.”
“Shoes on!”
“Quick - we’re late!”

It was like running a military operation before 8am.

The school run was equally joyful (note the sarcasm). We passed six different schools on the way, each with their own traffic jam, lollypop person, and clusters of frazzled parents trying to get from A to B in under ten minutes.

But the biggest problem wasn’t the mornings. It was the evenings - when our daughter came home after a long day of masking and holding it all in. The moment she walked through the door, it was like a switch flipped. The tears, the stomping feet, the slammed doors. “I don’t want to brush my teeth.” “I don’t want that for dinner.” “I don’t want to walk the dog.”

She was exhausted - not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.
And slowly, we started to lose the connection we’d always had with her.
Our relationship was starting to crumble, and deep down, I could see where that road led - more distance, more frustration, and less of us.

These days, everything just feels… calmer. There’s no shouting “we’re going to be late!” at 7:58am, no forgotten lunch boxes, no panicked searches for missing PE kits or signed forms. Mornings are slower. We sit together, have breakfast, chat about what we want to do that day. Sometimes she reads while I drink my coffee. Sometimes we just talk nonsense. It’s bliss.

Our days don’t look like “school” anymore - and that’s exactly the point. We learn through conversation, cooking, exploring, asking questions, and following her interests. There’s laughter again. And connection. And eye contact.

She’s no longer coming home drained or defensive. She’s here - fully herself. There’s room for her to breathe, be curious, and be silly. We’ve got our daughter back - and in the process, I think we’ve all healed a little bit.

It’s funny, isn’t it? We thought home education would be about lessons and structure, but really, it’s been about unlearning the rush. About slowing down enough to notice how much we actually like each other’s company.

I don’t pretend that every day is perfect - there are still arguments over toothbrushes and the occasional slammed door - but there’s a softness now that wasn’t there before. We’re not running on fumes anymore. We’re learning with her, not against the clock.

Home education hasn’t just changed our routine. It’s changed our rhythm.
And honestly? I wouldn’t swap it for all the decorated potatoes in the world.