THE RUN-UP TO CHRISTMAS

The run-up to Christmas in fostering... I once overheard my mum say to her mum: "Sometimes I wish there was a pill you could take and fall asleep on Christmas Eve and not wake up 'til New Years Day".

It upset me a bit as a child. See, little me saw Christmas as a wonderful intervention into the mundane day-to-day of school and bedtimes. It sung of decorations, carols, good things on the telly, gifts and family togetherness.

It turned out it was the challenges of building, maintaining and managing family togetherness that got her goat.

Well let me tell you mum, wherever you are now, you should try doing the same in fostering, it's a totally different ball game.

Take this coming festivities:

We currently have a long-term foster child who has patches of family here and there which barely count, barring one. One of those adults who bears a grudge and is uttely driven to get their own way however plain wrong they are. This particular adult has concocted in their mind that the child was somehow responsible for the family plunging into chaos. The adult needn't have bothered to invent a false series of events which "prove" the case because children coming into care routinely believe the collapse at home was their fault, they don't need anyone telling them.

Or, in the case of this adult, reminding them. Which this adult does every Christmas, roughly the week before. The child has elected not to block the adult on social media, saying that it helps to know what the adult is up to and that the child can deal with it all. Which the child does, but it upsets nevertheless.

So, at least we know where we are with this child.

However, we're out into inchartered waters with our Parent and Child placement. 

See, the 16 year-old's mother has told her that she doesn't want them to visit over Christmas.

This has caused heartbreak for the young mum, and a massing of the forces of good (social workers, guardians, legal people, mental health specialists, home-helpers and Independent Review Officers) all striving to get a better deal for the distraught young mum. Namely, getting her to have some time with her own mother over Christmas. 

Not just her mother, but her three brothers and three sisters. They live in a three bedroomed house. The sisters sleep downstairs on the floor. 

The first time the young mum's mother refused to allow her daughter to visit, the proposed plan was that I would drive the mum and her baby over (an hour and a half) on Christmas Eve, and Social Services would find a social worker to drive her back to us the day after Boxing Day. The mum refused and gave the reason that there was no room for them to sleepover. Someone suggested the young mum and baby check into a nearby hotel, but it's not allowed for 16 year-olds to stay in hotels unaccompanied.

Blue Sky pitched in with a brilliant idea. They have foster carers here there and everywhere. they tracked down a husband and wife who had rooms and lived about 20 minutes for the young mum's mother's house. But they turned out to be a no-doubt wonderful couple, but happen to be strict vegans and don't allow any meat or dairy in their house. Their perogative. But it was a deal breaker because the young mum would struggle to feed her baby in the foster home.

Social Services then raised a budget to do the whole 3 days by taxis! Every morning  a taxi from our house to the young mum's mother's home and another back each evening!

The mother was surely outmanoevred? But no, and we'd all seen another excuse coming. See, the mother has privately told social services that she would never have her daughter back around the house! But, here's the truly weird bit; she didn't want her daughter to know she felt that way because:

"I don't want to hurt her feelings."

So, when cornered by the taxi idea she came back:

"The thing is I can't afford a big Christmas this year."

And there's probably a bit of truth in that. The woman has, we understand, grown adept at claiming everything she's entitled to and maybe some money she's not entitled to, and lives well, likes to spend big. Their family "tradition" at Christmas is that everybody gives everybody else 10 presents on Christmas day.

There's a possibilty that the "System" (as the mother calls it) is wising up to her various claims. Her Child benefit income is starting to decline now that he sons are reaching a certain age. She might also be under investigation for a false claiming of a disability allowance which is not only longstanding, but money that the "System" might get a ruling should be repaid.

But the court will have trouble doing that because the young mum told us that one of her mother's many spending hobbies iss to buy a bottle of every new top-of-the-range perfume that comes out (£60 and counting) on its launch day.

The young mum says of her mother;

"She's permanently skint".

This one isn't solved yet, but I think we all know where it's heading…

The young mum asked me a couple of days ago" "Do you have a proper Christmas dinner here?"

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WEIRD HARMONY

 Every day in fostering is different.

Okay; every day in ordinary parenting is also different.

But as someone who's done (doing) both, I'm going to pull rank on ordinary parents and lay it on the line.

Fostering is parenting with the gloves off (not fisticuffs obs.) Fostering calls for all-out concentration and effort, all-round awareness, devotion to helping the child build a future.

And a zillion other things.

We have a Parent and Child placement at the moment. The mother is only sixteen; younger than one of our other foster children.  At first we were on alert in case there was any jealousy or competitiveness.

From day one there was a wariness, with our long-term foster child being on edge that someone was eating some of their space. We monitored and helped them adjust and respect each other's boundaries.

Our long-term foster child currently likes to eat on a tray on their lap in the comfort and security of their own space - a room complete with a bedroom, study area and half bath. 

I talked long and hard with our Blue Sky Social Worker about whether we should encourage the child to join us at the table. We spotted the child's choice for what it was; a push for independence. So it got the green light.

One evening the young mother spooned herself some spaghetti boll at the dinner table and said "Why doesn't whassname eat with everyone else?"

We explained, while respecting the child's right to their story. Being diplomatic about what the child had been through and how come, for the child, being free from other adults had its appeal.

Guess what?

The young mum got it in one. Why? Because it's where she wants to get too. 

In fostering the children who come into one's care often transfer some of the bad qualities of their birth parents onto their foster parents. It's an issue, but not a problemt for us, we're trained and supported. 

So.

Suddenly we had two young people who might have been at odds... and they're the opposite. They're both sharing the same goal; striving to be free.

They began chatting (on text, but both often showed us the texts) about getting out there. 

The topics; 

How to get a driving licence.

How to apply for supervised lodgings.

How to load the dishwasher.

Why the man two doors down is an a**hole.

How to avoid the miserable bus driver whose idea of fun is making kids feel awkward.

Oh sure, eldest foster child moans when woken at 3.00am by a baby crying. And there are tussles about who own what in the fridge.

But.

On the whole a weird harmony.

Job done.

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EVERY DAY IN EVERY WAY...

 It's been a long time since we had a baby in the house, day in day out.

Yes the grandchildren stay a night here and a weekend there, but doing a Parent and Child fostering placement brings it all back.

I think one of the remarkable things I'd forgotten is how much they can develop in the shortest period of time. I can go out for a morning and when I come back the baby has grown so much and in so many ways. He was a few weeks old when he arrived, a bundle of vulnerability who could do nothing much for himself. He's nearly nine months now and gets bigger and bolder and more competent with every passing hour.

He wants to grow, he yearns to walk and talk - he's not quite there with either yet - but he makes plenty of noise which is talking in his book. He can crawl at greyhound pace and keeps trying to stand upright without hanging onto anything.

He smiles in all the right places.

But there's more; his mum is still only sixteen, and we've noticed that she too is maturing with almost every day, it's a huge joy to witness.

The other evening the baby was sounding distressed. Baby and his mum were in their bedroom but he was sounding unhappy. I went up to support. The mum said;

"I think the problem might be his bottle of milk"

I replied "Oh, wonder why?"

"Well" replied mum "It's straight out of the fridge. In the day he's fine with cool milk, but now it's getting dark before his bedtime I think he might want it warmed"

This is good stuff. It's a requirement to keep bottles of baby milk in the fridge for obvious reasons, and there are procedures for warming it (no microwaving - running the bottle under warm water is good). But if the baby is happy with milk stright from the fridge it means the baby's hunger can be satisfied all the sooner.

We ran the bottle under a warm tap for 5 minues to bring it up to body temperature and…bingo!

The big deal here is that one of our jobs as foster parents to this Parent and Child is to support the mother in learning for herself how parenting works. And a large part of that is dealing with a child's ever-changing ways. 

The mother won't always have someone on hand to advise, so we advise as little as we can, sometimes telling her what her options are and giving her space to think it out, whatever the challenge is.

And we're constantly finding new ways to do that.

The baby is growing with every hour and so is his mum.

And so are we!

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LOSE WEIGHT THE FOSTERING WAY?

 Fostering plugs the foster parent into a whole network of people who are employed to make contributions to the fostering and ensure the fostering is working.

My partner also contributes everything he can to keep up my wellbeing, not that he's a doctor.

My fostering agency, Blue Sky, allocate each of us our own, regular social worker whose priority is to support, advise and care for us foster parents.

The local authority provide a social worker whose prority is the child.

Obviously the two roles overlap in many ways, but everything gets ironed out over mugs of tea around the kitchen table.

There are other professionals besides.

For example, training officers hold regular sessions. Then there's the "significant others" of the child; parents, siblings et cetera, who're required to attend contact sessions with the child.

The list of people who are in and out of our lives infostering is long, but it isn't endless.

At least that's what I thought before we signed up for a Parent and Child placement.

I'll list the prominant ones, the ones we're getting to know well for the simple reason they are keeping close watch over our placement, and consequently are visiting endlessly.

I don't mind, they all help.

The young mother has her own social worker, solicitor, parenting assessor and guardian (she's only 16) The child (8 months) has his own social worker, solicitor, health visitor and guardian. 

All the aformentioned visit around once every week or two. 

The mother has a councillor and a one-on-one tutor who she sees weekly. Back at the local authority HQ there are overseers, legal advisors and line managers who keep apprised digitally.

Somewhere amidst this revolving door of professionals needing regular updates is out own lovely Blue Sky social worker who is forever reminding us to look after ourselves because if we get too tirned or down in the mouth we won't be able to foster at the top of our game.

A lot of mugs of tea…

Listen; I've lost nearly 7lbs since we started Parent and Child, I'm the lightest I've been since I tried Weighwatchers 20 years ago.

I'm not suggesting that anyone goes into fostering as part of a weight-loss plan.

My partner puts it down the tea. When I queried  he replied "Well, tea's a diuretic isn't it. Everything's going right through you without touching the sides."

Did I mention he's NOT a doctor...

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FOSTER CHILD BLOWS WHITE HOUSE JOB

 Our Parent and Child foster placement is going well.

On the whole, very well.

My job consists of many jobs. I believe that sort of thing is called 'nuanced".

So. I'm supervising the safety of an eight month old foster baby who's being mothered by a sixteen year-old foster child.

A court has sat a couple of times to ratify details of the placement and as from a couple of days ago the mother is, like her baby, a foster child under my foster care.

The mother isn't delighted with this decision because a) she doesn't believe she needs to be officially 'in care" and b) because she doesn't much like being officially labelled a "child".

The fact is the court is right. The mother needs looking after by foster care while we also help her learn to look after her child. And at age sixteen she is, as I understand it in law, still a child*.

So, officially, from a couple of days ago, we're fostering two foster children, one of whom is the mother of the other.

The thing I have to keep at the front of my mind now, is that I'm caring for someone who is caring for and parenting someone else, and helping her learn how to parent.

This is a tight rope to walk.

For example, the mother is tired. The baby is a pretty good sleeper, but at the age of sixteen people just want to turn over and go back to sleep. Which she can't, and doesn't. She feeds and soothes the baby back to sleep again. But her sleep's been interrupted. 

The mother's tiredness challenges her alertness to watch the baby's every move now he's crawling and pulling himself upright by the bars of the stairgates (we have five in the home at the moment). But she's getting it right all the time, asking me to "mind the baby for ten seconds" if, for example, she has to go to the loo. The mother has taught herself strategies to look after herself, such as when she boils water for bottles she makes herself a cup of tea alongside.

Yesterday morning she was feeding the babyhis breakfast (ain't Weetabix a wonderfood?) when she turned to me and said "He's just started not being so bothered about food."

I replied "Oh…"

And I was about to reassure her that it's normal for a baby to need less food for a period while its body recovers from rapid growth, plus the baby is starting to enjoy watching what's going on around them and be distracted from food.

But before I could say anythinhg the mum said "It's normal for a baby to need less food at some point so their body can rest from all that growing."

I replied "Ah…"

Then she tagged; "Not only that, they kinda, like, start understanding the things that are going on around them and find watching more interesting than eating."

I replied "I see, yes I seem to remember that in my kids."

I left it at that. The mother had presumably done some research and come up with the correct information. I avoided adding stuff to her analysis in order to encourage her to continue finding out independently about parenting.

The question is, can she identify the right websites to go to for information?

Well, you'll like this. She's begun attending a twice weekly tutorial. It's one-on-one with a brilliant tutor. And the mother is loving it. She hasn't been to school much for several years, so you'd think she'd be way behind.

She scored 100% in spelling and 76% on overall assessment.

And there's more.

She took a test to ratify her ability to tell the difference between Fact and Opinion.

And got a whopping 86%

She came home glowing.

I said "Well done. Proud of you. Mind…"

I paused.

"Bang go your chances of getting a job with Donald Trump."

She got it.

She's on her way.

* According to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child and civil legislation in England and Wales, there are no barriers to a child of 16 being entitled to the services and protection of the state (such as being in further education, living independently or a member of the armed forces)." so says GOV.UK

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STORM MALDIVES AND FOSTERING

 I reckon that just about everybody spends more of their life thinking about their problems than anything else. Children in care certainly do.

Everyone goes from one problem to the next, sometimes juggling more than one problem simultaneously, sometimes several.

Fostering brings the foster parent about the same amount of frowns as smiles, but the smiles are merely a fleeting respite because we humans go straight on to the next frown and start trying to scheme a solution to the next problem.

Well, allow me to pass on a trick we've perfected in our house that ABSOLUTELY helps keep problems in perspective.

It's free, it's easy and it's fun. And best of all it works!

It all came about when I noticed that the weather men and women give names to storms. Storms used to be just "storms". Nowadays they're "Storm Fred" or "Storm Annie".

Our 2026 UK summer was remarkably hot and we had two or three heatwaves (defined as several days back to back with temperatures over 28 - or something-  centigrade). 

But no-one thought to give the sunshine a name!

So, I thought; "Why not give heatwaves a name? Somthing schmoozy like "Heatwave Raquel" or "Heatwave Piers".

I flagged up my idea to the family while we were watching a TV weather forecast and was met with a wall of indifference.

OK, so names are only for storms. 

But then I got to thinking this:

We have various storms in our fostering house at any given time.

But until now, we have never given them names.

Take the storm about whether it's ok for people to put post-it notes on their personal property in the fridge.

I might say to someone in the house:

"Has it been sorted yet, the thing about whether people can put their name on things they've bought with their own money but not things that have been bought using the family budget with a particular person in mind but which might appeal to someone else?"

This storm is currently labelled "Storm Post-it". 

They're all first-world minor problems such as;

"STORM SINK"

People who put dirty cups and spoons in the sink and walk away vs people who rinse them under a running tap and put them upside down on the draining board vs people who also dry them with a tea towel and put them away.

"STORM SHOES"

People who don't take off their shoes when they come in and risk treading mud (or worse) through the hallway vs people who kick off their shoes and make a higgledy pyramid of footwear by the door vs people who park their shoes neatly side by side before putting them in the shoe place.

"STORM SHOWER"

Whether people should put a towel down where they're going to walk around the bathroom while still wet when they get out of the shower so that the tiles stay dry for anyone coming in after the showered person to clean their teeth or floss or wash their face and might only have socks on which would get wet and have to be changed.

…the scheme works because it compartmentalises problems so they seem boxed-off and less overbearing. Plus it's vaguely funny.

OK it doesn't SOLVE the problems, that's a household eternal isn't it?

And the whole thing might get  ditched as yesterdays bright idea before the month is out.

Meantime I'm working on unveling an ultra-first world worry/problem namely;

"STORM MALDIVES"

Which is whether I'll ever get six weeks in a luxury beachside villa in the Maldives with spa treatments and five course evening dining plus complimentary cellar wines…etc etc.

Better than worrying about;

"STORM SMELLY KITCHEN SINK"

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LATE NIGHT TROLLEY DASH

 In fostering you get regular visits from your own social worker to make sure everything's hunky dory in your world. Well, you do if you're with an agency such as Blue Sky, who know how to look after their foster carers.

These visits are an absolute boon. Hand on heart I suspect I'm more sane and more well adjusted to the world because I'm in fostering than if I wasn't. I'd even go so far as to say I'm a whole bunch happier than I might be without it. And a large part of what I'm talking about (personal wellbeing) is down to the support we get from our social worker.

We're in the early days of a Parent and Child placement, so our Blue Sky social worker has been visiting once a week. We talk (last visit for 3 hours) about the mother and baby and how they're doing. But we also talk about how the placement is impacting me and my other half.

I find myself recounting and examining everything that the mum and her baby do and the why how and when of it. Then we focus on myself and my feelings and observations. We talk about the challenges of staying watchful about the baby's safety (without crowding the young mum or making her feel she's being policed) and techniques for helping the mother learn how to parent (best not tell her what to do so much as encourage her to think about the best way of doing something so that she owns good decisions).

The reason I mention this is because the social worker was brilliant on her last visit.

She reminded me, gently, to remember to also cherish and stay tuned to the rest of my family. 

All she did was ask: "How is X (our other foster child) about all this?"

I had to stop and think!

As we talked about X it dawned on me that the Parent and Child placement had taken up almost all my mental and physical energy. I was loving the progress. I'd dedicated myself almost entirely to the two newbies.

X is a great young person, recovering from a shocking childhood, striving to become a good adult, and on the right road.

Dammit, I'd taken my eye off the ball with X.

Oh there was food on the table and clean clothes, a lift into town and all that stuff.

"But" I asked myself "Does X still feel as important to me as before, and am I giving X enough TLC and attention, and if not is there any sadness or resentment?"

I was able to say that if X felt anything bad about the changed dynamic in our house it hasn't manifested. But we agreed that might be down to the fact that X is keeping the lid on any feelings to help the presentation of X as a maturing young adult.

I did a lot of thinking after our dear social worker departed.

Then this happened.

It was late Saturday night, about 9.45pm. The young mum and her baby were upstairs asleep. I was snatching five minutes of me time and was about to pour myself a wee glass of Pinot Grigio. In fostering, especially Parent and Child, you need a clear head, so we limit ourselves a couple of half glasses at the weekend. And enjoy putting our feet up in the privacy of our living room with the TV tuned to what we want to watch. 

I heard X come downstairs and go into the kitchen. Then after a minute come into the living room and say ;

"Mum…" Yes X calls me mum, It's the most beautiful tune I know. "Mum, have we not got any Fanta?"

I had to stop and think. I said "Er..know what…we're out. Apologies."

"Aw no worries." X replied "I just fancied one that's all".

And went back upstairs.

Me, I didn't waste a moment. I grabbed the car keys and made for the front door.

Our corner store closes at 10.00pm. I should make it.

I did. I bought a sugar-free Fanta (X's preference) and an Oasis (the purple one, X's other fave tipple). To seal the deal I also grabbed a tube of Pringles (the salt and vinegar flavour, again, X's preference).

When I got home I texted X, and said what was in the fridge and the larder.

For X.

X and I don't do intimate chit chats much any more as the youngster has begun to view such things as a bit of a child thing. X is aiming for the self-suffiency of life as a well adjusted adult.

So, did X feel any better about anything the youngster might have felt such as the sense of jealousy about being usurped as the most important young person in our family?

I'm guessing X  must have felt a bit cherished and cared for.

Obviously there are more profound ways of flagging up our awareness of X, our care and respect for X. I'm on it.

Hopefully X tasted more than Fanta, X tasted a good feeling.

I also know that thanks to that late trolley dash I felt good too.

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