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| The move to Bristol... |
| We moved to Bristol, where my husband undertook his training to be a minister. Within a week the school my son and youngest daughter were now attending, had asked to see us. "Your son has learning difficulties" they informed us, "Thank God for that" we said, someone is finally listening. So far so good. It lasted only a few months... Then, Oh dear! Money had ran out they said, we can't do any more for him now! So things went from bad to worse again. Our son became the child most lacking in motivation that his teacher had ever seen, he said. I went to work to clean for five very nice housholds, for one of whom I did 8hrs in one day, it was very hard work, as we had no car to get there and back. One lady asked me about my children, and I shared my worry about my son. One minute I was cleaning the loo, my mind everywhere but on the job in hand, and the next a phone was rammed to my ear, "speak to Michael" she said, I was wondering who the heck's Michael? |
| She had telephoned the Dyslexia centre next door as they were her neighbours, and had asked them to help us. The dyslexia centre set up an appointment to assess our son. He was severly dyslexic. They could not understand why this hadn't been picked up, as the special needs teacher at his school had worked for them for 2 years, and her dyslexic 14 yr old daughter still attended the centre. We challenged the school about this, and they said they didn't like to put labels on children. We found out it was all about political and economical issues, and not about our son's education at all. The school had 18 special needs children in our son's class of 36 children! |
| At the same time as all this was happening, our eldest daughter had really decided to get along at her new school at any cost! She did, she turned us upside down, inside out and back to front in 6 months. She went off the rails big time, drugs, sex and drink. It was just great! There we were living in a goldfish bowl, all theological students around us, and lecturers who were ministers. |
| The next daughter went off the rails then, oh great! Often we didn't know where she was, or whom she was with, and so on! It just never seemed to end. We were advised by a future minister to lock her in, Yeah! right, you try it!!! She'd have shinned down the drainpipe that one. No hopes mate! Then our youngest daughter who'd never really shared anything that was troubling her started her periods at 9 years old. This coincided with her 1st male teacher, and her nerves just went. Getting chenged for her PE in front of the boys (which all infant and junior children do!) was a terrifying ordeal for her. The girls picked on her for having started menustrating, showing her off to the boys about it, while the boys were trying to look down the girls tops. She just couldn't handle it. |
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| The other students in the theological college at the time either didn't have any children, one on the way, or babies. We were the only students to have teenagers. It was just great! Everyone and their auntie came to give advice and stick their two pennyworth in, wonderful! Then she brought home (to the college where we lived) all the real problem kids she could find. We just tried to love them all, but OH! What an experience, it wore me out. Along the way we gave a home to a young boy of 16yrs old from the crew she was mixing with. Big mistake, but as you learn as you go along in life! We did what we felt was right at the time. After all this she then...Oh! I could go on and on, but I won't. |
| Our eldest decided this was the time for her to move out of home, and to try to live renting a room in a woman's house near to where she was at college, while she was studying to become a chef. Six months later we fetched her home in a real state as she'd become depressed away from her family, you could have fried chips in her hair, and she brought home 6 months of washing. Wonderful !! |
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