Dear Diary,
Morning in our flat on the outskirts of Birmingham began with that familiar struggle to pull myself out of bed. Before even opening my eyes I could hear the muffled sounds from the kitchen: Mum quietly setting the kettle, Dad rummaging for his keys. The light outside was weakthose long, blue twilights lingered later than they used to, and the frost on the windowsill didnt melt until about eight. In the hallway, my shoes sat in a small puddle; yesterdays snow had melted right on the floor.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat motionless for a long while. My maths notebook lay open on the nightstand; the problems have been a nightmare for the past two weeks. I knew todays a test again, the teacher would be strict, and Grandmother would quiz me on every single formula come evening.
Mum poked her head into the room.
Poppy, love, its time to get up. Breakfast is getting cold.
I lingered, pulling on my dressing gown at a snails pace. A flicker of worry passed over Mums facelately Ive been complaining of headaches and exhaustion after school, yet the habit of hurrying never seems to loosen its grip.
The kitchen smelled of porridge and fresh bread. Grandmother was already at the table.
Looking pale again? You should be in bed earlier and put that phone down! Schools tougher nowmiss a single day and youll never catch up!
Mum placed a plate before me without a word and gave my shoulder a reassuring pat.
Dad emerged from the bathroom, a glass of water in his hand.
Did you pack everything? Dont forget your textbooks
I nodded, halfdazed. My bag felt heavier than myself; thoughts tangled between the homework and the dictation looming later.
Later, when Dad walked me to school, Mum lingered by the window. A faint imprint of her hand remained on the glass; she watched me disappear into the courtyard, among other children in almost identical parkaseveryone marching quickly, barely speaking.
Today I returned home early, exhausted, because we were dismissed after the English literature competition.
Grandmother greeted me with a question.
How was the day? What did they set?
I shrugged.
So much I dont get this new topic at all
She frowned.
You must try harder! Lifes changedwithout good grades theres nowhere to go!
From the next room Mum listened in on our conversation; my voice sounded thin and muted, as if someone had turned the volume down inside me.
That evening Mum and Dad sat together at the kitchen table, a vase of apples giving off a sharp scent.
Im getting more worried about her, Mum whispered. Lookshe barely laughs at home any more.
Dad shook his head.
Maybe its just a phase?
But even he noticed Poppy had become withdrawn, even from him. Books lay untouched for weeks, and the games she once loved no longer sparked joy.
The weekend only heightened the tension. Grandmother reminded us, as she always does, to drill multiplication tables ahead of time, citing other families.
Look at Lucys granddaughtershes a top student, winning every competition!
I listened halfheartedly, sometimes feeling it would be easier just to agree to everything if only theyd let me have an hour without worksheets and checks.
Mum tried again to talk to Dad later that night.
Ive been reading about home schooling maybe we should give it a try?
He thought seriously.
What if it makes things worse? How does it even work?
She showed him a few parent reviews. Many described similar struggles with their childrenafter switching to home education, the situation improved within a month or two; kids could set their own pace, and the household atmosphere brightened.
In the days that followed Mum and Dad researched how home schooling is organised: the paperwork needed, the final assessments, where to find a suitable online school. Mum called acquaintances, read reviews; Dad examined timetables and platforms. The more they learned, the clearer it became that the current school workload was simply too much for Poppy. She often fell asleep over her textbooks, missing dinner, and in the mornings complained of headaches and the dread of another test.
One evening, as darkness fell early and the gloves dried on the radiator, the conversation at the family table turned sharp. Grandmother was adamant.
I cant see how learning at home works! The child will become lazy, have no friends, and never get into a good university!
Mum answered calmly but firmly.
Our priority is Poppys health. We see how hard it is for her. Online schools exist, teachers check the final work, and were always there to support her.
Dad added.
We dont want to wait until things get worse. Lets at least try for a while.
Grandmother sat silent for a long time, her spoon clenched in her hand. She feared Poppy would lose interest, shut herself in. Yet when she saw Poppys eyes light up at the mere suggestion of home learning, something inside her shifted.
In early March Mum and Dad submitted a request to the school to switch to home education. The paperwork took less than a week: just passports and birth certificates, exactly as the website instructed. Poppy stayed at home, joining the online lessons on a laptop in the living room.
The first few days felt odd; she approached the lessons cautiously, but by the end of the week she was confidently answering teachers questions on the platform, submitting assignments on time, even helping Mum with new topics. At lunch she talked about a project on the environment, laughed, and debated maths problems with Dad. Grandmother watched from the doorway, noticing how her granddaughter was becoming herself again.
Evenings stretched slowly. Outside, the March snow had almost melted from the lawns, and the few passersby hurried about their errands. A new kind of quiet settled in the flatnot the tense hush after a hard school day, but a soft, comforting calm. Poppy sat at the laptop, a literature task on the screen, a tidy notebook beside her. She explained a new concept to Mum; her voice was lively, her eyes bright.
Grandmother drew nearer, pretending to pause at the table. She peered at the screen.
Can you show me your work? she asked after a beat.
Poppy turned the display toward her.
Here we have to choose a character from the story and imagine how the tale continues
Grandmother listened intently. Curiosity mixed with a hint of bewilderment flashed in her gaze. She recalled her own school daysno computers, no online lessons Yet now her granddaughter seemed to be handling everything far better.
Dinner that night was a family affair. Mum brought a salad of fresh spring lettuce straight from the balcony jar; the season was already feeling like spring. Dad shared news from work; Poppy inserted remarks about an exciting environment projectshe needed to build a model cell from household items.
Grandmother, after a moment of silence, finally asked,
How do you now do the tests? Who checks them?
Mum explained calmly,
All the final pieces are uploaded to the platform; teachers mark them and give feedback. We see the grades instantly.
Dad added,
Its not just the scores we care aboutwhat matters is that Poppy is calmer and enjoys learning again.
The next day Grandmother offered to help Poppy with a new maths problem. The girl accepted eagerly; together they bent over the workbook by the window, where a thin crust of frost still clung from the morning chill. Grandmother fumbled a bit with the online lessons wordingbuttons instead of pages, teacher comments appearing at the side of the screenbut when Poppy demonstrated the solution, Grandmother smiled approvingly.
Remarkable! You figured that out yourself?
Poppy nodded proudly.
Gradually Grandmother began to notice the changes more clearly: Poppy no longer jumped at the sound of the front door at night, nor did she hide her eyes when school came up. Sometimes she brought a drawing or a craft for the new project, laughing at Dads jokes without forcing a smile.
Now the three of them often discuss school topics in the evenings or simply flip through old family photo albums. Grandmother even created a login for the online school so she could peek at Poppys lessons herself.
By midApril the days grew noticeably longer; the sun lingered over the houses, and the balcony welcomed the first sprouts of tomato seedlings and lettuce. The flat felt lighter, filled with fresh spring air and a sense of anticipation.
One evening Grandmother lingered at the table a bit longer than the rest, looking across at Mum.
I used to think a child learns nothing without school, she said quietly, but now I see its more about being well at home and wanting to learn.
Mum smiled gratefully; Dad gave a brief nod.
Poppy lifted her head from the laptop.
Id love to start a big project! Maybe we could visit a real lab this summer?
Dad laughed.
Thats a plan! Well think it through together.
No one hurried off to their rooms that night; we talked about future trips and outdoor summer activities as the sun slipped slowly behind the livingroom window.
Poppy was the first to go to bed, wishing everyone a good night in a voice free of worry or fatigue.
Spring is now in full swing, confident and bright. New changes lie ahead, but our whole family is ready to meet them together.
