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How Can a Mother Do Such a Thing? She Sent Her Four-Year-Old Son to a Children’s Home Rather Than Get Him Treated – A Tale of Heartbreak, True Friendship, and a Second Chance at Family
How on earth do such mothers exist! She sent her own child off to a childrens home because she couldnt be bothered to take care of him, and the poor boy was only four.
Ive got this friendher names Emma. Weve been thick as thieves for thirty years now. Emma is an absolute gem of a human and would have made a smashing mum, only it just didnt happen for her and her husband. Children, I mean. The universe simply didnt hand them any, but they kept on togetherprobably down to the strength of their love. No dramatic divorces there!
As for me, I have kids of my owntwo daughters. Naturally, Emma became their godmother. Shes my best mate, lives just round the cornerno-brainer, really! I still remember how Emma would play with my two, and on countless occasions, shed babysit when I needed a break, or, lets be honesta decent cup of tea. Afterwards, wed have a cry in the kitchen together about how unfair it all was that she couldnt have her own. Life, eh?
One day, her relatives rang up to deliver a stonker of news. Some distant cousin on her fathers side had decided to put her little boyher own soninto foster care. The doctors had given him a difficult diagnosis, and money for treatment? Nonexistent. The mother herselfwell, she was more interested in chasing blokes than raising children. The poor lad didnt stand a chance with her.
Emma told me about it and confessed she felt she absolutely had to go see this child. As her other mate later recounted, the moment Emma clapped eyes on the boywith those sorrowful, confused eyesshe just knew in her bones she had to take him home. Her husband gave the green light, too.
It wasnt all sunshine and roses for them, of course. There followed more than a year of hospital appointments, therapy, and every specialist under the British sun. The boy, Jamie, was autistic. Still, somehow, they did everything possibleand then someto help him find his footing.
You wont believe this: today, JAMIE is twenty-four, as ordinary and charming a young chap as youll ever meet. Hes finished university, got a stack of sporting medals for his troubles, and yesterdayI kid you notI was at his wedding.
Now, if thats not a proper ending, I dont know what is.
I’ve Had Enough of Impromptu Weekend Visits: How My Brother-in-Law’s Family Took Over Our Home (and My Life) Until I Finally Stood My Ground – Was I Wrong to Set Boundaries When Uninvited Guests Showed Up With Kids, Expected Meals, and Never Asked About Our Plans?
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How Can a Mother Do Such a Thing? She Sent Her Four-Year-Old Son to a Children’s Home Rather Than Get Him Treated – A Tale of Heartbreak, True Friendship, and a Second Chance at Family
How on earth do such mothers exist! She sent her own child off to a childrens home because she couldnt...
My Sister-in-Law Spent Her Summer at a Holiday Resort While We Renovated the House, and Now She Expects to Live in Comfort With Us We suggested pitching in together with my sister-in-law to renovate the family home, but she flatly refused, claiming she didn’t need it. Now she wants to move in with us because her half has no modern comforts—her own fault! The house belonged to my husband’s grandmother, and after she passed, it was split between my husband and his sister. It was old and neglected, but we decided to renovate and make it our home. It’s a semi-detached property with two entrances, so two families could live there comfortably without getting in each other’s way. The garden and outbuildings are shared, and both sides have the same number of rooms. The inheritance was sorted after we married, and everything went smoothly. My mother-in-law immediately declined her share—she was a city person through and through. She told her son and daughter to do as they liked. My husband and my brother-in-law scraped together enough to repair the roof and shore up the foundations. We wanted to keep going, but my sister-in-law threw a tantrum. She wanted nothing to do with this “shabby old cottage.” Her husband just kept his head down—he never argues with her. We planned to move in. The village was close to town, we had a car, and were sick of living in a cramped one-bedroom flat. Building from scratch would’ve cost a fortune. For my sister-in-law, the house was just a holiday destination—she’d pop over in summer to barbecue or relax. She told us not to count on her help. Over four years, we completely renovated our half: bathroom, heating, electrics, new windows, even a conservatory. We took out loans, but it was worth chasing our dream. We worked tirelessly, day and night. All this time, my sister-in-law jetted off on holidays, showing no interest in the house or her share. She lived for pleasure—until she had a baby and went on maternity leave. That was the end of her travels and her cash flow. Suddenly, she remembered her share. With a baby in tow, she wanted space and fresh air for him to run around. By then, our half was finished and we’d let out our old flat. We never touched her side, but it had deteriorated badly over the years. I don’t see how they could have stayed—no heating, outdoor loo, it was unliveable. Even so, she turned up with her suitcase and begged to stay “just a week”—I let her in. Her son is loud, and like her, she does whatever she wants with no regard for anyone else. I work from home, so it drove me mad; I moved in with a friend for a bit, who actually appreciated having someone look after her house while she was away. I ended up staying away almost a month. First at my friend’s, then my mum fell ill and needed care. Honestly, I forgot about my sister-in-law, assuming she’d long since gone home. Imagine my shock when I returned and found her still there, making herself at home. I asked when she planned to leave. “Why would I go anywhere? I have a small child and I’m comfortable here,” she replied. “We’ll take you back to town tomorrow,” I said. “I don’t want to go.” “You haven’t even bothered to clean your side, so back you go—this isn’t a hotel.” “You’ve no right to throw me out! This is my house!” “Your house is on the other side of the wall. Go stay there.” She tried to turn my husband against me, but he also told her she’d outstayed her welcome. She sulked and left. A few hours later, my mother-in-law started ringing: “You had no right to kick her out—it’s her property!” “She could have stayed in her own half, she’s the lady of that house,” my husband said. “With a child? There isn’t even heating or a proper loo! You should have looked after your sister.” My husband finally lost his patience and told his mum everything: how we’d offered to renovate together, how it would have cost less—and she’d refused. Why was everyone blaming us now? We offered to buy her out—she named a price so high we could have bought a brand new house for it. Not a satisfactory solution for us. Now there’s constant tension. My mother-in-law is perpetually offended. Alina is a nuisance. They visit rarely, but when they do it’s noisy parties, petty sabotage, and damages in the garden. We’ve decided to build a fence and completely separate our section. There’s no more compromise—that’s what my sister-in-law wanted.
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