UNANNOUNCED DELIGHT

 Just had an "unannounced visit".

So; this is where your Blue Sky social worker turns up without giving notice. Happens infrequently, but I'm glad it happens.

It's something that one can see the importance of, but a newcomer might take it slightly the wrong way; as if someone's suspecting one of putting on a performance of fostering when one knows a social worker has booked a visit in advance, and the rest of the time one fosters to lower standards.

Part of the reason I'm all in favour of unannounced visits is that way back we took in a child whose parents were often reported to Social Services by neighbours, but the social workers would telephone ahead and fix appointments to visit and check. The children were intimidated into saying they were loved and cared for, despite the fact they were being abused.

There's light years between that scenario and Blue Sky's levels of care - which prioritises us foster parents, not just the children - but I keep it in my mind as salient.

And, crucially, "unannounced visits" aren't random; everyone gets the same and the same amount of them. It's a standard.

But the thing that takes any edge off these visits is the way Blue Sky do it.

And BTW I have no idea if fostering folk who work under local authorities or other agencies get unannounced visits; all I know is how our people do it.

They turn up with big smiles. Make you feel like they enjoy your company so much they were made up when they were allocated making a surprise visit to you.

The thing about unannounced visits is that Blue Sky social workers have a job to do; to double check we carers are okay and getting everything as good as we can. But one can always sense that they're careful of not making us feel under scrutiny.

No-one wants to be under scrutiny, but it's one of life's neverending burdens; the boss, management, one's schoolteachers, parking wardens…the neighbourhood nosey parker who checks other people's wheelie bins are put out right…

However. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, does this type of checking up better than Blue Sky.

So;  our social worker turned up, beaming smiles, like it was a drop-in for coffee and gossip. 

And in a way it was exactly that; she came in, fussed our dog, went through our tub of herbal tea bags choosing a peppermint tea and settled at our kitchen table with me and my cuppa, and we had a blast. Nattering and laughing, it was a real boost.

But. The professionalism was never out of comission. 

She wanted know how are things, how's the fostering, how's our life, how is fostering working with the rest of our family lives.

Then; a bombshell.

One of our children struggles to get to school. We do everything we can to get the child to school, but the child is dealing with medical/emotional challenges (nothing alarming, simply the residue of a lifelong chaotic family). In our house we manage the child's school attendance using common sense. We get the child to school every day, sometimes it stretches our commitment, but it's what they need.

Once in a blue moon it's not do-able. Same as with other children, and our allies; Blue Sky, the local authority, the school itself, recognise and understand.

As chance would have it, the unannounced visit happened to be a day when our foster child had simply no chance of going to school. The child's fears, anxieties and suppressed angers, were too much.

So; downstairs I had a social workere checking out we were getting our fostering right. And upstairs we had a foster child who should be at school but isn't.

The child struggles to engage with people, but is improving.

The child struggles with authority thanks to poor parenting.

The child has always resisted engaging with social workers, but we're working on it.

I texted the child that our social worker had dropped in unannounced.

Never expected what happened next.

After a half hour the child suddenly appeared at the kitchen door. Swanned in and said a confident "Hi" to us. Our social worker didn't milk the moment, but I could tell she was lit up.

Child sauntered to the kettle and made a cup of instant.

Then the child came and sat with us and chatted. A milestone.

Yes, there were machinations going on; the child was saying "Look how much I benefit from skipping school sometimes."

Bottom line; it all worked out Jim Dandy.

The child is starting to attend school better and better. Our social worker was knocked out.

And I got to feel a rush of pride and happiness that my fostering was going along okey dokey.

And for me, as ever fostering is more than okey dokey.

It's the bees knees.

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HOW TO STAY SAFE

 Safeguarding is a big thing in fostering, but there's a bit more to safeguarding than keeping the child safe.

You (the foster parent) have to make sure you keep yourself safe too. 

A few words about keeping yourself safe…

…on one level it's a matter of taking sensible precautions to make sure nobody could misinterpret any aspect of your fostering and hold anything against you. From time to time we get the real parents hoping to pick holes in our fostering.

I understand their need; their child has been removed because the real parents have been judged to be getting their parenting wrong and, rather than look at their own behaviour, they take the mindset of "Who do they think they are, these foster parents? They think they're better than me?" And they start searching for flaws in what we do.

It's rare, I've only had to deal with this twice in a couple of decades.

Eg: At Contact, one mum: 

a) "Where's his coat? It's freezing. I'd never let him outside in this weather without a coat!"

b) "He says he's allowed up until midnight on Saturdays, I'd never allow, it's bad for him."

c) "You shouldn't give him sweets after Contact, his teeth'll fall out."

Mind, this sort of nitpicking is mild compared to what can (on rare ocassions) be out there;

I attended last month's Blue Sky support meeting. These meetings are about bonding with fellow foster parents and sharing with and supporting each other.

Most of the morning was taken up discussing a particular incident that resulted in a ten year-old foster child being removed from a foster parent.

It seemed that what happened was…

The foster mum was escorting the child from a car park towards a Contact Centre to meet his real mother, and had to cross a busy main road. It had a Pelican Crossing, which got them halfway, then they had to wait.

The real parent was in her car, and watching.

Watching like a hawk.

The Pelican light showed "Don't Walk", but there was a sudden gap in the traffic. The child made a move to cross, but the foster mum grabbed his hand and he stepped back onto the island.

Then, jokingly, the foster mum mimed giving him a clip round the ear. She didn't touch him, and remembered saying something like "Don't be silly, I'm not scraping you off the road." The child laughed, might have learned an important lesson, and waited for the green man.

The real mother made a formal complaint to the local authority (who have ultimate juristiction over every foster child).

And almost before Blue Sky could swing into action the child was removed and on his way to an emergency foster home!

So now Blue Sky do their "Thunderbirds Are Go" thing. They fly over to the foster mum and work out what actually happened. 

Plus they completely assure the foster mum that Blue Sky help, support and protect the foster mum.

It all worked out great.

Long story short;

It was a sucessful Support Meeting. Foster parents all supporting a comrade. All discussing the minute detail of the incident. Talking about;

Did the foster mum use too much force grabbing the child's arm to keep him off the road?

Was the swish of her hand a bit threatening? (The real mother alledged she hit the child, but the child confirmed it was an 'air shot'. Done in fun, but with a message).

Result; the child was back with her wonderful foster mum in a trice.

The Support Metting moved on to what we'd learned. Stuff such as;

a) Stay aware of anything could be misinterpreted by someone with malice aforethought.

b) Blue Sky will always guard your back. And do it brilliantly.

The remainder of the Support Meeting went to how we could help the foster mum, who felt bruised by the incident. I think we did.

You're never alone in fostering, but when you are alone with the child, pay attention.

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HOME EDUCATION?

 There's a worrying trend taking hold across the UK; namely more and more children are being 'home educated'.

If home education was being done by trained professionals that would be one thing.

But it's not.

Sad to say - I confess there are not enough facts and figures to confirm my fears - most home education is nothing more or less than that parents simply can't be bothered with the effort it can take to get their kids to school.

Children are required to be educated. Hard though it often is to pursuade them, they HAVE to go.

Unless.

While the government, or to be precise the Department of Education, takes the stance that "all children between the age of 5 and 18 must be in education either at school or college" they appear to often tag an ambiguous "or otherwise" onto the back end of this pledge.

It's perfectly understandable that many children are simply unable to cope with the tumult of great big schools teeming with loud gigantic pupils and teachers too rushed off their feet to notice.

It right and proper that the system allows some flexibility there.

Then there are children so wayward that they disrupt every class, every aspect of school life. The school ends up excluding them. 

The state has the right to fine parents who take their children on holiday during term time, and ocassionally we see a headline-grabbing story where that has happened (highly publicised to act as a warning, perhaps).

The big worry for me, and most foster parents is the alledgedly growing number of children who aren't in school because a) they don't want to go and b) their parents can't be bothered.

We had a girl, 15, who came to us from a badly chaotic home having hardly been in school at all.

Both her parents had physical, mental and emotional problems.

We found an academy school for her, and for a few weeks she 'gave it a go'. It was a 20 minute drive, and I did the driving.

Then she got fed up with it. Excuses ranged from stomach ache to being bullied. A teacher, she said, had implied she was overweight. She was disciplined one moring when the traffic was a bear and she was 10 minutes late. Her 'friends' turned on her. She hated the packed lunch I made her, and the school food was disgusting. She had an embarrasing spot on her nose.

You get the picture.

One morning she was due an appointment at our local hospital to give a sample of blood for tests.

She refused because it would mean she'd be an hour late for school and there's be ridicule.

But, I won. And it was the first turning over of a new leaf.

How? I bribed her. No other word for it.

I said "Look, if we do this blood test thing the route to school from the hospital takes us past the MacDonalds on the roundabout.

She got the offer, the deal, in a heartbeat and jumped in the car.

Never, EVER, underestimate the gold standard treat that is a MaccyD takeaway.

So, yes, she enjoyed a MacDonald breakfast every morning on the way to school for her entire stay with us. 

The school was happy, social services bought it, Blue Sky bought it (with the same reservations as I) the state rested easy, I accepted the stand-off. 

But. The reason I wanted to talk with you about the problem of children missing out on school is unlikely to be solved with well-intended manipulation.

One thing that's going to start happening is that children will be increasingly coming into Care who have no reading or writing skills, can't dress themselves, don't know how to use a knife and fork. And the rest.

What's the answer?

That I do not know, which is why I'm not a politician, I'm a humble foster parent.

Proud of my past and present.

A bit concerned about the future.

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THE GOLD THAT IS FOSTERING

 Had a wonderful visit from Blue Sky yesterday. It was our regular social worker plus her boss.

We all sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and talked about…fostering.

Then we talks about fostering, followed by fostering, then went on to fostering.

You get my drift.

I can't fully express my gratitude for the support that's available in fostering. People think you're on your own, and nothing could be further from the truth.

The boss, who I'd only met once befoire, and only for 30 seconds, turned out to be (as I had expected), bright and kind. Those are the 2 traits my family hope for in people, and try to instill in our foster kids. We attempt it by being a good role model, and rewarding kindness and good thinking.

When I say "bright and kind" in reference to social workers I'm always impressed a) by their professionalism, their knowledge and precision of thought, and b) their humanity, empathy and powers of engagement.

If you are working with a foster child that has issues (who doesn't?), it's marvellous to sit down with people who, for want of a better way of putting it; "get it".

We talked about our transitioning child. Alicia is journeying from one gender to another. 

I'm afraid that if the subject comes up when you're talking to people, they say something ill-informed such as "Well, it's all the rage now isn't it?"

Not your social workers. They have a dynamised understanding. They understand your foster kids, they understand you (the foster parent) and your family. They understand your background, your hopes and fears for your kids, and kids everywhere.

You're never, ever, alone in fostering.

I said as they left "Your visits really put a spring in my step"

And d'you know what one of them replied?

"Visiting you always puts a spring in our step too."

Fostering. Pure gold.

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THING IS, TODAY'S KIDS ARE DIFFERENT FROM US

 Our transitioning foster child seems to be doing really well. In Care you have to be aware that things can be going on in a foster child's heart and mind that they try to conceal. But how to spot those things? 

That's one of fostering biggest challenges.

The longer a child is with you the easier it becomes.

The better you know them the easier it is to ask the right questions. 

And you've always got your social worker visiting who wants to know how you and your children are doing.

Transitioning must be incredibly challenging, especially when the 'child' reaches  the edge of adulthood age when youngsters start to become aware of romance…love...attraction. 

All that jazz.

Our child often has friends round socially, one or two of whom are transitioning. The ones who aren't transitioning are highly supportive of their friends that are. It's an absolute joy to watch and hear them laughing and chatting without a hint of the judgementalism that too many people who know nothing about the matter chuck at people who, in the main, just want to be themselves and not bother - or judge - anyone else.

I've had conversations with our other foster children about 'Alicia' and they are 'cool' about the whole thing. I'm nervous in case during Contact they talk to their family members about the fact we have a transitioning child, and the family show hostility, but it hasn't happened yet.

No, what has happened that knocked Alicia off course is that a close family member is highly anti transitioning. It's a woman, an aunt. And I had to eek the information out of Alicia because she hoped to deal with it solo.

But it turned out she WANTED me to ask her. She wanted to bring me up to speed on the concern, but needed to control the flow of information. Fine, I was happy to oblige.

It turned out the aunt who is anti-transitioning is having one of the big "0" birthdays and wants (and expects) a big party. The aunt has let it be known that she'll welcome Alicia, but she has to dress and act as the "Troy' he used to be.

Imagine.

Alicia's best friend at the moment happens to be a youngster who is transitioning from female to male. A wonderful young kid too. They're not an 'item' in the old-fashioned sense. I've noticed them in the back room watching Netflix with one arm round each other, but in a buddy way, not a "netflix" way (if you know what I mean…).

Alicia did it like this.

I'm cooking tea when she breezes through and says "Oh ye, I meant to tell you, I've been invited to a gathering with a bunch of family, so like, could I get a lift there… like…it's a Sunday afternoon…and yeah... it's like a bit y'know…complicated?"

I said "Sure".

She waited for a moment, then: "Ye, like…I don't even know if I'm definitely going or not."

I said if she wanted to go I'd drive there and pick up. I left it like that, for the time being. Her ultra 'casual' raising of the issue had been a big deal and I didn't want to pump for info.

Over the following weeks the picture got more detailed. She told me about the aunt, how they'd been close when she was little because her parents frequently lost the plot. Alicia'd lived with the aunt temporarily several times.

Alicia was economical with the truth, but I picked up on quite a few conversations she had with friends about the dilemma. 

It's amazing how kids think that when you're doing the washing up you lose the sense of hearing…

I heard them analysing the aunt and getting Alicia to tell them all about her.

I overheard kids not anywhere near old enough to be classed as adults bandying sophisticated well-informed perceptions about modern middle-aged people with eloquence and…

And….?

This "And" is the best bit. With understanding and tolerance. Saying things such as;

"There wasn't any transitioning in their day, we can't expect them to understand."

"It's normal for people to want children to remain children and feel disappointment when they grow up different from bhow they were."

Then there was this one, from Alicia;

"Y'know what I think? I think maybe she's worried that people will think it was her that made me want to transition."

I have no idea if there was anything in Alicia's insight. I took it as evidence of an awareness that can get a person out of a lot of personal scrapes in life, if they listen to their own voices offering useful observations about their own thinking and their behaviour.

I also overheard that Alicia wanted to take her best friend to the party for moral support. The friend who is transitioning from female to male.

Because they'd become 'close'.

Now, you want to know, did Alicia go to the party?

Can't tell you yet. The party is still 3 weeks off.

Watch this space.

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THE SADNESS OF THE TENDER HEART

 One of the big challenges in fostering is saying goodbye to a child who's been with you for some time.

It ought to be an unmitigated joy because it means you've played your part in helping rebuild the life of a distressed child and worked alongside all the other services to get the family back together.

In fact, I was advised when I first started fostering that the name of the game is to get them home again.

But Rome rarely gets built in a day, and sometimes the building blocks of getting a chaotic family back on their feet take an a while to get set up and tested.

However it's a triumph that's coloured by an impending sense that one is losing someone.

You know you'll miss them and their quirky ways.

The thing that makes it even harder is that one has to largely put them behind you. Oh, for sure there are ways of keeping track of a child's progress once they're back at their real home, but it's something that has to be done advisedly by working with your social workers to ensure that your motives are the child's welfare; I don't believe that natural curiosity is quite enough to merit monitoring them from a distance.

Sometimes social media helps; they might have agreed to sign you up to their FB account.

My approach is to talk to my Blue Sky social worker about my feelings; they are trained to be alert to these human reactions in foster carers and know how to help.

For example, I'm reminded of the importance of preparing the now-empty bedroom for the next occupant. One never quite knows the age or gender of your next child so I keep the bedrooms we use for fostering neutral. I give the room a deep clean and check safety things such as guards on the blind cords and electric plug guards. I stock up on the food that is almost guaranteed to be welcomed by a new child - who might arrive in the middle of the night frightened and hungry. A bag of pasta last an age as does a jar of pasta sauce. Biscuits and crisps ditto. I make sure I've got spare toothbrushes plus my fallback wardrobe of three sizes of clean dressing gowns and assorted (freshly laundered) children's clothes.

And, as I go about gearing up for my next arrival, I find the pleasant pain of missing the departed child is replaced by optimism about our next child.

Pretty soon my phone will ring with Blue Sky's Placement team asking "Would you be willing to consider taking a child who…"

And we're off again!

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BEST STORY EVER

 Most people think fostering is about children who are difficult, and it puts them off finding out the facts.

Yes, it goes without saying that most kids who are fostered have had some unfortunate experiences. 

But.

And this is a big 'But'.

Just as we all know plenty of people who had normal upbringings yet turned out to be trouble, there are bus-loads of children whose lives got off to a less-than-perfect start who turn out to be alright.

In some cases, more than plain old 'alright'.

One of my fostering friends at Blue Sky is dealing with this;

She and her partner have grown-up children of their own and have fostered since the youngest was old enough to leave home.

One of her current foster kids is a child who suffered more than I'm able to say.

I don't mean that I'm unable to find the words, I mean that if I told the story I'd be breaking a law that was rightly set up to protect the child's privacy.

The reason that I know the child's backstory is that my friend and I support each other alongside Blue Sky. We benefit from sharing, knowing that the other party understands the code of discretion in fostering. We're professionals.

So; I can share with her my fostering ups and downs, and she shares hers with me. And the sharing is of huge benefit to us, our foster children, and fostering.

This is her story to date, with a few tweaks to protect everyone, but it's a true story.

Her own, natural, children are cause for concern. She and her partner nurtured them from conception to the present day, gave them the best of love, the safest of homes, the most solid support that parents can muster.

One child is struggling to cope with modern life.  The child is in their 30s and can't seem to get any anchorage. Cannot stand living with mum and dad, but needs their support for rent. Drinks, and uses substances. Cannot keep relationships alive. Refuses medication and counselling.

A concern.

Another child is a highly succesful professional. But is struggling to manage responsibilities. Head of a self-owned company, has no manager to turn to for help and finds most of the staff who work for the business bringing all their problems to the boss. This child is fighting all the battles that success can bring; a big house - in need of building work, a flat they rent out that has a combative and neglectful tenant. The child's partner wants to live life as if they were in their teens even though they have two toddlers and a babe in arms.

A concern.

Third child is in a bad relationship but keeps on 'giving it one more chance". Some Satudays sleeps in the car in a lay-by. Plays online bingo and buys scratchcards and lottery tickets.

My friend will stand by her kids to the end, through thick and thin, even though stuff keeps happening.

Then there's long-term foster child.

This foster child had a singularly horrifying childhood. People were imprisoned for it, I won't say more than that.

When the child arrived at my friend's home there were plenty of difficulties, but my freind and her partner stuck it out. And in no time there were good signs, beginning with the day the child asked to call her "Mum" - always a good sign whichever way one plays the request. 

Spool forward to the present day. 

Her foster child is her 'golden' one! 

The child has independently found two part time jobs and is holding them down.  Child tidies and cleans their bedroom and does the domestics from emptying the pedal bin to buying 50 mini Easter eggs (with own money) to organise an Easter Egg hunt for the family toddlers in the garden.

It gets even better.

My friend told me that for the Easter lunch the child invited current partner. They are close. My freind overheard the child discussing something with current partner;

Child: "Yeh, so how many?"

Partner: "How many? Not sure.. five or six, why not?"

Child: "Nah, c'mon…too many. Three max. Probably two is right."

Partner: "Well I just think.. if they need a home…"

My friend wondered what they were talking about. Rescue rabbits?

No.

The child said;

"Look, we're talking about adoption here, it's like, a massive responsibilty and you need to focus big time on each child, so yeh…two. Max. And they need space, to grow into who they want to be. And they need parents who support them and don't, like, stand in their way. So, yeh. Two"

My friend took the dishes into the kitchen, her eyes filled up and her heart swelled up too. 

And that fluttering feeling in her head? That was the feather in her cap twitching away.

I kid you not, fostering is the best thing you can do.

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