MOTHERING A MOTHER

 Being the foster mum to a foster mum and her baby is like no other type of fostering. My prority at all times must be; the wellbing of the baby. Whether he's asleep or awake I must always be on guard, so to speak, to ensure he's sleeping correctly, being fed and hydrated correctly, all his needs are being met (this involves stuff such as knowing which cry means "I need a new nappy" from "I'm hungry" or "I'm tired out")

However, keeping the baby safe from harm is pretty straightforward compared to fostering the baby's mother.

In our current case, the mother is being officially fostered; she was removed from her family home because social services weren't satisfied about the help the young mother might get from the mother's own mother, who would have been her main support. The professionals also thought there was a risk to the wellbeing of the young mother from a homelife which is best described as "chaotic".

We've been asked to foster the mother and her baby, the plan being that if and when the young mother is ready to live independently she will leave our home and go into some form of supervised residency.

Did I mention she's only just turned 16yrs.

The list of things that she has to show she can do unaided is lengthy. It includes activities such as finding a dentist and making an appointment, shopping and cooking, diagnosing whether her baby son needs taking to the doctor or waiting to see if his nose stops running by itself.

Teaching people how best to do things is best summed up by something one of my old schoolmasters taught about the art of teaching, he said;

"I hear it and I forget it. I see it and I know it. I do it and I understand it."

And we've been advised not to tell the young mother what to do so much as to do it ourselves with the baby and have her watch. With luck she'll learn and put whatever she's learned into practice next time it's needed - and understand why it's the best thing.

For example, she used to place the baby in his high chair while she sterilised his bottles. The high chair was kept on the far side of the kitchen table so she was at the sink about 15 feet away. The baby had no toys to hand, no piece of rusk to nibble at, and felt lonely and vulnerable. He would start to grizzle. So I would wheel his chair across to be beside his mum, and give him something to play with and some cut-up bits of soft banana. He stopped grizzling instantly. But. It took several goes befofe the penny dropped with the mum, and we were left frustrated, not to mention a bit angsty, like one gets when a baby's unhappy because its needs aren't being met. After she'd taught herself to keep her connection with the baby wherever possible and keep  him occupied with play and food, all was well.  She now applies the maxim across the board.

On a grander scale, the mother's social worker wishes the young mum to be able to visit her family for Contact under her own steam. This calls for catching a bus from our house to the raileway station, then taking the right train. All by herself with her baby.

We had a dummy run two days ago. I accompanied her on the bus, and on the train. We got off three stops up the line at a town with some nice shops, we had a mooch then returned home.

Then; this:

Yesterday she announced that she was going to do the same trip again but this time…ON HER OWN!

Yikes with knobs on!

However; it worked. She let us track her on her phone so we knew where she was and could get to her in our car if she got lost or felt overwhelmed. She didn't. She left home and came back grinning as proud as punch. Loaded with shopping too.

Actually her acquivitisness is the next thing on our list of things to help her with. She gets her benefits paid into the account, she's never had money before and spends all day (and all her money) in charity shops (at least it goes to a good cause) or on Amazon/MarketPlace etc (not such a good cause).

That can wait a while, we should continue enjoying the victory of her becoming a fully fledged public transport user.

In fostering you have to stay alert for successes no matter how mundane...

Read More

EVERY CLOUD..

 Fostering has its many forms.

Once you agree to try for "approval" - a relatively simple and actually quite enjoyable process, you start to learn about the different fostering roles.

I mention this because, after decades in fostering, we decided to accept a request from Blue Sky to take a Parent and Child placement.

We 'd done standard fostering aplenty, done Respite  (where you look after a foster child whose foster parents need a break - maybe for a family wedding or even 6 nights in Malaga to re-charge their batteries).

There's Emergency, when a child needs a roof over their heads pronto.

And variations on the theme.

But for myself and my family, the Gold Standard in fostering I always saw to be Parent and Child.

Not our first sortie, we'd done it way back when it was called Mother and Baby; and that's pretty much what it remains, a young mother and her recently-born baby.

The pair have been with us for 16 weeks and last Thursday a Court sat to decide if the mother could keep her baby. All the many professionals who've been working on their case gave their thoughts and…success!

She can keep her son, but needs to agree to a plan to keep her progress on track. The plan will work the Court said, provided she stays with us, because, they kept saying, we're doing such a good job.

Praise indeed. Much joy and celebration. We now have a new shape to our foster-family and can roll up our sleeves for more challenges and tribulations.

But, have you noticed in life, and definitely in fostering, it's the little things?

Here's our big/little thing (well one of them anyway);

The young mum is great, really loving, devoted and keen to learn. The baby is robust and contented, but …

We'd forgotten what it's like to spend all day in that sort of semi-fug you're in when you were woken up half-a dozen times through nthe night by the most intrusive alarm bell known to nature, namely a crying baby.

We were waking up slowly in bed on the Saturday morning after we heard the good news. Drinking a cup of tea my other half describes as "blue" meaning strong. We've gone back to teapot and loose tea Makes a difference, especially if you want  the kick.

The way night-time works in this case is this; learing to look after the baby is the mum's responsibility, but one of our key duties is to ensure the baby's safetly and emotionalal wellness. We have a brilliant baby monitor that allow usis  to make sure she's getting to her son quickly enough and with the right soothing ways. If he's hungry we monitor the feed, then her technique for calming the baby and helping him back to sleep.  The camera is fixed, pointing to the cot, but we can hear what's going on.

By which time we're wide awake.

Nothing new for us, we've had babies of our own, we know the score, knew we'd have to have some waking nights.

Here's the funny bit, we were propped up in bed waiting for the baby to wake and the mother to get him changed, washed, dressed and ready for breakfast. Something ocurred to me; I said to him (other half, the rock);

"Y'know, they sometimes call it "sleep deprivation" nowadays; but it isn't quite as bad as I remember it.."

"I've noticed that" he replied.

Then he said;

"Give me yer teeth mother, I'll swill 'em".

Me "Eh?"

"It's easier because we're that bit older. Need less sleep as you go along."

He was right. 

Every cloud has a silver lining!

Mind, he still turned over and had another 10 minutes...

Read More

FOSTERING OUR HOME TERRITORY

 As everyone who has ever fostered quicky learns, the business of "territory" around the house renews itself with each and every new child.

Each new child is allocated their own bedroom, that's a given. Our job is to arrange the bedroom so that the child sees it as their arbour. We try to match the child with the bedroom furnishings. We have neutral bedding awaiting, neither pink nor blue (it matters to many) and not Whinnie-the-Pooh in case the child believes themselves to be an adult. The storage places (chest of drawers, maybe a wardrobe) are empty and dust-free. There's a bedside light at a gentle wattage in case they need the light on to go to sleep.

And so on.

However…what about the remainder of one's home?

Ah. Here's where agile thinking is called for.

I seem to remember the poet Lemn Sissay writing how he'd been made to leave his foster home because his parents (devout Christians - I mention it because I believe Lemn did) discovered he'd taken a biscuit without asking (which he knew would be refused).

Territory.

We have to try to get it alright, and by "alright" I mean alright for all in the home, but most of all alright for the child. The reason I say most of all alright for the child is because we household family know where everything is and who "owns" what and in what way.

The new foster child has a lot to learn, and it's our job to help them with it.

Take our two new arrivals. Baby is 6 months old, but he still has his territory. Mainly a crib/cot, a high chair and a play space.

Mum is a different kettle of fish. 

She's 16. Is she a child or an adult? The answer is she flip-flops between the two.

She has her own bedroom which we've encouraged her to colonise to her needs and tastes, and by golly has she gone for broke. She even grazed our garage and found a storage cupboard in good nick which she installed to take more stuff.

She has the blinds of her choice, her rug to hide our carpet, her pictures in place of our prints.

It's the remainder of the house we have to be on our toes.

We have to tolerate her need to territorialise.

What does this mean?

In the case of this young mother, she puts stuff belonging to her and her baby in every bit of the house.

Boxes of baby things. Baskets of laundry. Tie-ups of used nappies. Carry-ons of snacks. Piles of unidentifiables.

She has placed them, unbeknown to her, in every corner of the downstairs.

Upstairs, the bathroom is now consumed by baby-bathtime toys and props.

Our Blue Sky social worker wanted to know all about this when she showed for her weekly support visit last Friday.

She said it was healthy because it signalled the young mother wanted to be part of our household.

Obs the SW was correct, and as usual, insightful and helpful.

Thus for the last few days where before I've cursed there'd been nowhere to put a saucepan in the kitchen or a cup of tea in the living room..now I view this inconvenience as a tiny sacrifice in the wider, bigger goal of helping the girl and her baby grow and become OK.

Phew, though...

But only in fosterting

Read More

BABY STEPS

 Doesn't matter how grown-up a new foster child is, building a bond between child and foster parent(s) is baby steps.

What happened was this:

We have a new Parent and Child placement alongside a longstanding permanent placement. 

If you're new to the world of fostering the term "placement" is the professional phrase for a child coming into Care.

Our permanent child is nothing more or less than family, we've even written the child into our wills. This youngster is one of the greatest inspirations to everyone who crosses their path and a treasure of a human, we're so proud to call the child "ours" and can scarcely believe the gift. 

When Blue Sky rattle our cage with the accusation that we played a large part in the child's renaissance we scoff it off. We know it's a big part of their job to keep our peckers up (which they do), but hey I find nobody who's any real good at anything is much good at taking praise.

Little things though, we mustn't let them go unnoticed.

Baby steps.

So what happened was this;

Our Parent and Child are a young teenage mum and a 5 month old charmer of a baby boy. The mum, put bluntly, arrived with resentment that she and her baby were deemed in need of Care. She missed her real family (her mum, a stepfather and seven siblings). Understandable. She missed the chaos of her home, missed being allowed to spend all day, all week, all month, all YEAR in her teensy bedroom. She'd hardly been out and about for two years.

She didn't fit in to our family, and seemed as though she wanted that to be how things were and get the disparity acknowledged in case it might mean she could go home.

In fostering you get used to this one. The child sometimes acts like they aren't part of your family, which, of course is entirely authentic.

So, after a few weeks what happened was this;

She (the young mum) ordered herself a Maccy D something-or-other to be delivered. She'd been awake with her baby since 5.00am. She'd tended the baby beautifully with love and skill all morning. When the baby went down for his mid-morning nap she ordered her treat.

Then things got exciting.

I'd made myself a humble lunch; a wilting tomato from the bottom of the fridge on a slice of bread.

I plonked myself at the kitchen table. The young mum I expected to continue her act of not belonging.

She decanted her fast food onto a plate, I was waiting for her to do her usual and disappear to eat.

No.

She came and sat next to me at the table. And chatted.

Yes…chatted! Mujer a mujer (woman to woman). About nothing major. About Ariana Grande and how you pronounce her name. About Erling Haaland, what a human he is.  About whether she should bling up the baby's pushchair.

Then came the moment.

THE moment.

She finished her Maccy D thing. That is to say she left nearly half of it because she doesn't want to get huge. She stood up to put the remains in the bin and take her plate to the sink.

And…she reached across and picked up my empty plate.

Took both plates to the sink and washed them up.

In terms of triumph it was a world-record breaking gold-medal winning 100 metres dash with nobody coming second.

She and I were tied winners.

My heart; size of an airship.

Only in fostering.

Read More

THE MERIT OF THE MUM TAXI

 When one, as a foster parent, is looking after a parent and child one has to juggle  a lot of balls.

If one has another foster child alongside the parent and child, one absolutley MUST ensure that the other child gets at the very least equal priority with the parent and child. The arrival of a parent and child can draw one's attention so utterly that one's other foster child can feel neglected. The resident child will definitely wonder why a new set of foster folk were needed/wanted. They think to themselves "Aren't I good enough?" or something along those lines. 

Normal. 

A parent and child present themselves as a big unit. In our current case the unit is an adult (almost) young person who has her own needs and a tiny baby with total dependency on their mum and their mum's support network. And all day - and all night - the support network is primarily…me. The foster parent. There are hardly enough hours in the day...

However, as is often the case if you stack your cards right, fostering comes up trumps.

What happened was this.

Our resident foster child is a Permanent Placement. No family to go to. We're the child's  family. Child knows it but we suspect they haven't entirely chased away the terrors of being alone and unwanted.

Once said to me "Please don't die. I'll end up in a shop doorway…"

Ouch.

I could write a library of books about this particular kid, I wish I could. The kid's story is so unbelievable he is my hero with knobs on. 

But, the bottom line is that the kid is human, and definitely feels wafts of resentment that our home is suddenly transmogrified into a nursery. The new focal point is a couple of strangers.

This is where our Blue Sky support kicks in. The minute we took in a parent and child they started showing up all over our diary. Telephoning us right left and centre "Everything OK?"

And always, I mean ALWAYS asking how our resident foster child is getting on with the new arrangement.

These people are consumate professionals.

The $64,000 question is this; when you take in a parent and baby, how to make sure one's existing home set-up doesn't risk one's resident children feeling left behind.

Solution. If you're going to go the extra mile with parent and child (and 1.30am feeds are an extra mile alright) you go the extra mile with your other foster child.

So.

1.30am Saturday morning. Baby had a good bawl and settled on a bottle. Mum was exhausted but is getting the hang.

My phone buzzes. It's resident foster child. Been to a gathering of a few mates. Only about 20 minutes walk away but "Er ..wondered if anyone was up…er for a lift..like."

"Sure" says I, "No problemo. Thanks to the baby I'm wide awake. Pick you up from outside the Giggling Squid ye? Ignore I'll be in my DG."

I said nothing as we drove back to our place. 

He disappeared into the kitchen, knocked up a big bacon sandwich and crashed.

He got it, got one of life's big deals, wherein you give and take.

Next day he said to me;

"I still find it difficult having a load of new people here. But I get why you do it, and actually respect why you do it."

He didn't need to add "And it eases me asking for a 1.30am ride home "  which was in there.

And. We're all strengthend that our resident child is as at least as important to us - maybe more - than our parent and child.

Read More

A GOOD DAY AT THE OFFICE

 So. If you saw my previous post you'll know what I'm talking about when I announce…

                                   SHE KEEPS HER BABY.

It was a tense couple of hours in court, a virtual court mind you, Zoom or somesuch. The mother's solicitor arrived at our house bright and breezy an hour in advance, didn't mind that our dog tried to rob her of what she carried into the house "No" she said firmly "That's my court coat". Sure enough it was a cut down black gown, designed to fit in with the gravitas of the proceedings, and add emphasis to her presence. Nice touch.

We had a pow-wow as to which bit of the downstairs would be best for the mother, her baby and the solicitor to appear in, and how it would work using their devices. It was agreed that the mother's phone had a great camera and mic, so she would be on that, the solicitor would be separate, on her tablet. The baby would be present, bouncing in his favourite thing, a sort of static walker with lots of robust toys hinged to it. I guessed the solicitor wanted the court to see the attachment between mother and baby.

I agreed to be on stanbdby in the kitchen in case they needed someone to look after the baby for a bit if he got disgruntled (which he hardly ever does, he's a really happy one). 

And then the moment arrived. They closed the door to their 'courtroom'. The court was in session.

The mother had seemed extraordinarily calm all morning. More equitable than she'd been the last few days as the tension mounted.

It was me who was all over the place with a mixture of hope and dread. I couldn't help but try to rehearse how to console the mother if the court decreed she must hand over her baby. At the same time I knew that if she was confirmed as the baby's mother there was a lot of hard work ahead, because… well because you know how life works, there are always strings attached whenever one gets what one asks for.

And so it turned out.

She keeps her baby.

However…

The court stipulated that the mother is required to work a tick-box list of skills to advance her independence. A parenting assesor will visit in three months time to judge if she's making progress and whether she's getting on quicky enough. Her social worker is drawing up a list of things she has to improve on.

On a practical note; she must 

learn to budget her money 

learn to cook for herself without relying on her foster parents to amuse the baby 

learn to use bus and train because she's too young to drive 

learn to spend less time on her phone trading on Vinted (and all the other marketplace websites)

On a more emotional level she must

learn to recognise and understand more about the baby's needs and how he signals them to her

learn to fret less about dirt and dust (she's ten steps ahead of 'neat and tidy' she's somewhat over-enthusiastic)

learn to process her fears of (to name but three) strangers, insects and the dark - or if she's can't conquer suchlike, learn to disguise the effect they have on her so they don't disturb her baby

The court laid down that if, after three months work she's nearing being an independent parent the Local Authority will get the green light to start looking for a supervised lodging for her. 

If and when that happens we'll say goodbye and good luck to the both of them.

However, after the court gave its verdict, all we heard muttered our way by the professionals was;

"It might take a bit longer than three months".

The joys of fostering continue!

Read More

D DAY FOR OUR CURRENT FOSTER CHILD

 Looking after an older foster child can be rewarding in all sorts of ways.

They're often able to tell you about how you've helped them, which younger ones can't.

Teenagers who've been presented with the almighty challenge of being removed from their family home and placed with a strange family are weighed down by having to make sense of what's happened to them.

For younger ones, it's just simply beyond them, so they simply get on with life.

The young mum we have staying at the moment (with her baby) is gradually starting to feel at home here. Or so it seems. The professionals (social workers, guardians, solicitors etc) seem agreed that she and her son are largely on top of things. The baby is a lovely young fellow. He's stable, contented and up for the world.

The young mum has her sadnesses but in general is making a good job of a difficult lot.

See…in a couple of days a court will decide if she's a good enough mother for her to be allowed to keep her baby, or have the infant taken away and put up for adoption.

In all my years fostering I've never had to help a child (the mum) deal with such a particular prospect. I've watched and made records of the mum's dedication to her baby. I've also listened to her when on several occasions the whole thing threw her off balance and she quietly wept; "I can't do this..."

What did I say on those occasions? Only that in my own experience the shock of becoming a mother to a newborn baby hits almost every mum just as hard. I told her "I had my moments of fear and confusion too.. who wouldn't?"

We've got through those moments. The court has to decide if she could deal with those moments without a foster parent on hand.

Me? I've found it tough but rewarding. The toughest bit is remembering that my job in fostering these two is to collect cold, hard information about the mother's mothering. If, for example, she were to have a meltdown and run up to her bedroom in distress leaving her baby on the floor on his change-mat, something like that would have to be recorded and would weigh on the court's decision on whether she can be trusted with her baby.

The young mum hasn't got any blots of that magnitude on her copybook, the most challenging shortfalls she's made have been minor. But; I'm still required to note them, and write them up in my daily report.  And (this has been hard) read out loud to her my daily report every day so she knows what I see and hear of her mothering.

In two days time the court will decide.

The young mum's solicitor (an amazing fiesty young woman, so bright and kind) is driving down to be with the young mum throughout the day. The latest word is that the case has been given a new judge; a woman alledgedly very empathetic.

Talking to my Blue Sky social worker we end up agreeing that the foster parent in me is doing a professional job. I shall respect the court's decision as based on the baby's welfare.

And the human in me is doing a human job. In other words, my heart cries out for mum and baby to be confirmed as mum and baby.

Two days to Decision Day. The young mum couldn't eat a bite of her evening meal, not a morsel. That's no problem, she'll probably snaffle something from her shelf of the larder later.

I cannot but wonder eternally how young people who we foster parents are entrusted with pull it off.  And on the whole, they do.

Stars, some of them...

Read More