COUNTDOWN BEGINS

 They're on their way!

Shortly after hearing we'd been selected by a Local Authority to foster a mother and her baby our Blue Sky social worker called to say they'd be arriving in 24 hours.

Short notice no problem; I'd been gearing up for a Parent and Child (P+C) arriving since Blue Sky first asked me to have a think about taking it on.

The mother and baby's bedroom is all prepared; Spring cleaned and hoovered, a new duvet and pillow set, an empty wardrobe with nice hangers , plenty of clean empty drawers. New towels.

I could enter Four In A Bed (UK TV series where Bed and Breakfast owners try to find dust and hair in each others' rooms), Mind, here's where I'm different; my vacant bedroom has piles of nappies, of course. And a scented bin for dirty ones. Toothpaste for the mum. A phone charge lead with a range of plugs so it doesn't matter if she's iPhone or something else.

All set.

I ought to feel in control oughtn't I?

Captain of my ship, master of my fate. That sort of thing.

Do I feel like that?

Do I heck.

I'm as nervous as a kitten up a tree.

Why? Here's how it is for me.

I've discovered that once a new placement has arrived and they've got their feet under the table, and the paperwork is done, and the social workers have drained their umpteenth cup of tea and said their goodbyes, believe it or not…

I can relax.

It's just me and my new foster placement.

Oh, my lovely family are alongside me for sure, but I've always been kinda the prime carer, the fostering boss, and that works in our house. And crucially, my fantastic Blue Sky social worker is only a phone call away.

But once I'm steering the ship myself I'm at my happiest.

So…here I sit with my umpteenth cup of tea, drumming my fingers, clockwatching.

They're supposed to be arriving at 4.30pm. An hour and a bit.

I could give the kitchen sink another wipe.  I could WhatsApp my best friend, the one I lean on when I need to, the one who loves sharing my fostering experience (she's a senior midwife, I know I can trust her discretion). We have plenty of wonderful chinwags. 

Or I could make doubly sure there's no hair in the shower plughole…

Nah, I'm having none of that.

Just sit here sister, enjoy the peace.

THAT'S IT! 

ENJOY THE PEACE!

Because starting anytime soon it'll be baby crying, nappies changing, dummies missing, meaningful conversations and maybe even adult tears…

And I'll enjoy the fixing of all that and more besides.

But for now, for an hour, before the P+C arrives, I'm going to enjoy my own company.

And the deafeniing peace...

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NEXT PLACEMENT ON THEIR WAY

Phone call from Blue Sky; "Would you consider taking a Parent and Child who…"

Cue string music...

Look, I'm a dyed-in-the-wool hard-nosed foster mum now, it's what I do.

Fostering defines me, alongside being a loving partner, a conscientious mother, a family brick, a loyal friend and a reliable colleague. (er…that's the idea anyway…).

I recognise adrenaline when I get some.

My point here is that whatever stuff I've given this far to foster kids coming into my care, I've got stuff back in spades.

And every time I get the call I get goosebumps on my goosebumps.

Here's the news. If you happen to have read the previous couple of posts you'll know that a few possible Parents and Child placements haven't come my way. They've been placed elsewhere.

Well, a Parent and Child are coming. To us.

Blue Sky go the extra mile to provide us foster parents every scrap of information they can to help us decide if the placement is right for us, and, if it is, and the Local Authority agrees, then Blue Sky go round again to trawl EVERY scrap of background about the Parent and Child that could be helpful.

All that has happened. Got the green light an afternoon ago. The Local Authority have chosen me. Well, chosen us. That is: me, our family, our home, and Blue Sky.

May I tell you what I can about the Parent and Child? For a start, they're a mother and baby. She's mid-teens, the baby is 6 weeks old. The pair were removed from her family home after the birth because the mother's mother and the stepfather were judged to be unable to help her care for her baby. They lived in cramped, crowded and chaotic social housing: two adults and six children. It would have been seven children counting the baby.

The baby's father is unknown to the mother. The two of them connected through social media. Nobody knows anything of him, not even his name.

The mother, according to our information, is physically 16 years old, but emotionally 14, however her Local Authority social workers believe she wants to keep the baby and be a good mum.

Now, I've always believed that sometimes the more you learn the less you know.

I feel this way about the 'emotional age' bit of the profile of the young person.

I know I'll do everything I've learned to do through practicing and working on my fostering, and hopefully do it well enough. So I'll wait and see for myself what the young person is like, although every morsel passed on in advance helps.

When you've been round the fostering block a few times you get to be able to spot what needs to be spotted pretty quickly.

We once had a child come to us who was six years old but we were told had endured things that led to arrested emotional development. She was emotionally "less than six years old".

Wrong.

The child turned out to be six going on twenty-eight. Children who've endured neglect and/or abuse are sometimes very street-wise.

With people who need to be taken into care it's sometimes only the people who do the caring who get to see the full picture.

The girl and her baby arrive next week.

Wish them luck.

And me. Sorry, I meant; 

"And us".

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THE GAMBLE OF FOSTERING

 So; this week I broke a long-term pledge.

Americans would say I "snapped a streak". I hear a lot of Americanisms in our kitchen. My other half likes Country and Western music. I love him in spite of it.

My pledge was this; from Day One in fostering I tried to never say "No" to any child in need of a roof over their head.

In the decades that I've fostered I'm immensely proud to have clung to that.

My Blue Sky social workers have ALWAYS reminded me that it's my right and privilege to - if I reckon a potential placement might be wrong for my home - decline a child.

It's happened more than once that Blue Sky's placement team and our Blue Sky social workers have identified that there might be a perfect fit, and decided to involve us in thinking about the possibilities, but we all sensed a general unease. 

In my case the issue was often how a new child would fit alongside our other foster children; we've sometimes had as many children as one's allowed.

I remember a recent occasion when we were approached to take a young person for respite care. It would have been for school holidays; two weeks at Christmas and Easter and six weeks in the summer. My worry was about one of our existing foster children, and the possibility that there could be some antagonism.

I believed we could work around any heirarchy jealousies, but I could also see that the young person being assessed might be a perfect match for a foster home with no other children to fit in with.

Before I was asked for a definite "Yes" or "No" came the news the young person had been allocated a respite home nearer where he was being fostered, leaving everyone happy and my own personal commitment intact.

However.

I (and my family - blood and foster)  have agreed to Blue Sky's nudging that we invite Parent and Child ("P+C") placements. We topped up our training and two weeks ago were good to go.

Our first two possible placements went elsewhere. This happens aplenty across fostering, one has to learn not to be disappointed or feel rejected.

Our third offer looked on paper to be especially challenging, and I had to get serious about what I can and cannot do.

I'm not able to give any details about the case that might result in someone recognising the young people involved, but I believe I can outline enough to give you an idea of the dilemmas without unmasking anybody.

The Parent was a teenage girl. The Child was a newborn baby. 

Blue Sky's P+C head honcho had, a few days prior to the offer of the young lady and her baby, invited myself to a digital pow-wow with a group of other carers who specialised in Parent and Child. I struck up an instant friendship with a lady who loved P+C and knew the ropes inside out. She told me that for her the most important word in the world of P+C fostering is…"No" - to all manner of requests. And she'd been doing P+C with huge success for nearly ten years.

Back to the placement I was given to consider;

The mother, Blue Sky upfronted, had several mental health issues. She was on the spectrum of a well-known condition, had a mosaic of another, and couldn't concentrate for any length of time. The father (and I believe I can tell you this much as he's never likely to read it himself) is an unaccompanied asylum seeker from an African country, who speaks no English.

Well, me and my other half sat up late discussing the whole kiboodle.

We were emotionally compelled to say "Yes", out of humanity and pride in our fostering.

But there are limits.

We talked about whether the father was truly under 18 years old (the definition of "unaccompanied", as I understand it). I've read about some desperate middle-aged souls masquerading as teenagers in order to benefit from the compassionate provision our dear country makes. We even talked about whether those whose job is to consider all possibilities might have no option but to try to ascertain (if it were conceivably possible to do so) that he may have facilitated the pregnancy to strengthen his case not to be deported. Equally, he might be the most noble person ever, but the professionals must consider all the possibles, however unsettling.

Mama Mia.

We ended up agreeing that this particular case was not the place for us to begin our new role in P+C.

The minute we'd made up our minds I phoned Blue Sky and told them. They accepted our decision beautifully. They ended by telling us that the case was going before a court and a positive outcome was on the cards involving a professional residential environment where the mother and baby could be observed round the clock, and the father could be managed.

I felt a bit down. My other half hummed a Kenny Rogers song about poker and life. And how to play the cards you're dealt. He sang (off key):

"You gotta to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em..

Know when to walk away, know when to run."

A bit of dramatic overstatement there, that's the lovely Yanks for you...

Anyway, like hubby said; we aren't running away from anything, we're running towards something. Our first Parent and Child.

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GONE.BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN

 I've held off telling about our latest fostering episode until the dust settled.

Our most recent placement has left us.

He/she was a treasure in our family. A young trans person; an absolute model who all those poor youngsters who are angry or feckless or self-obsessed could learn so much from.

"Alicia" has gone to live with their favourite aunt. I believe it's called something like 'kinship' fostering.

The youngster wanted it, Blue Sky and the local authority made sure it was definitely what the child wanted, and that it would be best for all concerned.

As always, Blue Sky are there for us foster parents first and foremost. Our social worker squeezed us to make sure we weren't going to grieve losing Alicia, which can happen. We were ok. We were pleased for the kid.

Turned out his aunt came forward and offered her home partly as a challenge to her sister (Alicia's real mother) who had been intolerant to the transing. The aunt appears to be a really good egg.

All this happened a few weeks back, and it's gone well.

It means we have a spare bedroom, and Blue Sky said to us:

"Do you fancy another go at Parent and Child?"

We said yes. They walked us through the requirements, we had Zoom meetings with Blue Sky's P+C team, they ran the rule over our home's Health and Safety, and now we sit awaiting the phone call "Would you be willing to take a parent and child who…".

The whole thing takes us back to our one and only previous experience of this type of fostering.

It was a long time ago; before we joined Blue Sky. 

We were a bit underprepared.

For a start, it was called 'Mother and Baby'. Which was wrong because you can just as easily get a father and toddler!

However, our only P+C placement so far actually was a mother and baby.

The pair of them came and went. But not before we'd tried our hardest to help the mother become a suitable mum.

See, that's not the nitty gritty. The nitty gritty is recording the parent's parenting and providing your reports to social services, Blue Sky, and the parent.

If for example, the parent leaves their baby on the edge of the bed while they go downstairs to make a coffee, you log it, and advise the mother how to do that thing better. What action is taken with an oversight like that is for the professionals. The professionals are reliant on the foster parent's recording to make a judgement on whether the parent will ever be able to look after the child properly.

Talk about a massive responsibility. Mind, Blue Sky have been at pains to stress that one's reports are only pure facts. No opinions or judgement calls.

So. Here we sit, coiled and ready.

PS Just for the record; I'm always hearing that readers like a bit of colour…

The girl who came to us with her second baby; she asked to stay in touch with me, and that was agreed. I don't chat with her on Facebook any more, I let that taper off.

However, with a view to doing P+C again I decided it would be a professional thing to do to check how the mother had got on in life. So I searched her.

She's a full adult now. Still kind of homeless, an inveterate sofa-surfer. Judging from her photoshopped and deeply filtered images she's still active romantically.

I had a gander at her 'family'.

No mention of a partner. Or her mum, who I remember being very hard-hearted. Or her sisters, with whom she had bitter rivalries.

She's all alone.

Except for…her SIX kids.

SIX.

Six, so far, and probably still counting.

No details on the page as to where the kids lived, or with whom.

PPS; the page listed them by name, which of course, I can't pass on. She'd loaded up her children's names in a beautiful italyic font. Somewhere in that gesture was all her love, pouring out to six babies.

Mind, she's probably got seven now.

…and probably still counting.

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"WAIT-WATCHING" IN FOSTERING

 Our fostering home is now officially able to take a Parent and Child (P+C) placement.

Blue Sky have this slightly specialised branch of fostering well covered.

Great that they do; there's a big need for homes to help a parent who needs help with their parenting.

But it must be done properly, and BS have got it taped.

We kinda 'qualifed' (got all our ducks in a line) on the Monday after we'd finished helping with our grandchild's half-term.

My mobile went off a couple of days earlier; Blue Sky's Parent and Child bods had a case in front of them and they thought we might be a match. They knew we couldn't start until Monday, but that fitted. Those magic words: "Would you be willing to take a Parent and Child who…?"

Then followed an extensive pen pic of the case, they told us everything they knew.

And I can share the gist of it without compromising anybody.

A 15 year old girl whose baby isn't born yet, excluded from her family home because she's made allegations about a man in the house; a small house with not enough bedrooms. The case is going to court. The father of the baby has a criminal record (he's 16) and got himself on the offenders register. He won't be allowed to visit his partner and his child  at their foster home while they're in foster care. They will meet at an officiated Contact centre, probably 3-5 times a week.

Our job would be to coach the mother in parenting her newborn and record her efforts and skills.

We said yes.

The placement went elsewhere.

My mobile went off again.

"Would you be willing to take a Parent and Child who…?"

We almost said "Yes" straight out, we just wanted to get stuck in.

The mum is 16, the eldest of six by several different men, the chaotic waves ripple outwards from this family in every direction. All the stepfathers were vocal and combative about the pregnancy and the boy who will be father. The young mother needed a break from the tumult and tension. Another small house with too many people. Social Services want to give her a chance to be a passable mum.

We said yes.

The placement went elsewhere.

In a nutshell, without giving too much away, one of the local authorities thought they could place the P+C  somewhere less expensive. The other had it decided for them that the P+C should go somewhere (much) more expensive.

Ye, go figure.

So here we crouch in the starting blocks.

C'mon! We want this!

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FOSTERING GETS WITH IT

 Fostering is about to get a shot in the arm.

The government are preparing to upgrade fostering. 

BTW I'm not sure whether the changes will affect fostering in Scotland and Northern Ireland as my (limited) understanding is that fostering is what's called a devolved issue, meaning that those territories can introduce their own legislation.

My gut is that the proposals will sweep in across the board because fostering needs help and support from Land's End to John O'Groats.

In a nutshell, and I suspect, dear reader, that you know this already, but let's start at the beginning - there aren't enough foster folk. Worse, the numbers of folk who foster are reportedly falling, while the numbers of children who need foster homes is rising.

It's apparently more than a human crisis; it's an economic one too.

The human crisis is obvious. There are literally tens of thousands of children whose 'real' homes are simply no-go areas for them. Social workers battle round the clock to find safe havens for them. They might start by investigating close relatives of the child or children; it can be the best solution. But it's usually impossible. They search their books for approved foster carers who have a vacancy and a match between the child and the foster parents. If they draw a blank the only alternative is to place the child into one of the growing number of residential care homes that are springing up. 

The human crisis is this. That huge numbers of children from broken homes are not getting the family life they require, deserve and want. The government is aware that the early-life experiences of these children could cause them serious problems in the future. Not to mention problems for the people they have around them as they go through life.

The economic crisis is also very real. The increasing numbers of residential care homes for children is becoming a huge burden on the country's coffers.

an example.

Do you mind if I caution that the example I have for you is not proven to be the case, so it might be off the mark. But I heard it from a reliable source, namely a foster carer I know, respect and trust.

But if the following is horse manure, remember I'm not Panorama.

So; a foster carer gets a call asking if they would consider taking a parent and baby. The mother and father are teenagers. Social workers are of the view that the mother and father should continue to live separately so the mother can concentrate on her newborn. The foster mum accepts. The case goes to court for a decision.

The judge is a person whose crusade is to 'keep families together". Since the fostering agencies and the local authority are unable to find a foster home that can take both teenagers and the newborn, the judge rules that the threesome should be found residential accomodation where they can be together.

I could go on about the flaws in the alleged judgement, but won't, because I pass this on to illustrate the extent of the possible economic crisis which is becoming a threat.

Here we go;

And remember, the numbers I'm quoting are a) ball park and b) not confirmed.

But I believe they're close to the mark:

The cost to the nation of fostering (in a conventional domestic foster home), a teenager for a year = approx £20-30,000.

The cost of same in a residential care home = up to £300,000 per year.

! 

Right, I just need a cop-out for myself. These numbers were quoted to me by a wonderful foster carer, but that doesn't mean they are correct or representative.

My gut is they're likely to be not far off.

So.

The government is on a recruitment drive for new foster carers. It's rumoured they plan making it easier to foster, possibly even providing grants to help familes pay to have an extra bedroom built.

And more.

The propsals will be published anytime soon.

Anyone interested in fostering should get ready to rumble.

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THE HEROISM OF THE FOSTER CHILD

 Our eldest foster child - who's transitioning - is definitely my new hero.

Actually, just about every child we've fostered has been my hero. Jeez, the stuff they've survived is beyond what their foster carers can process.

So, our kid is doing their thing and bothering nobody.

Children in care are desperately deprived of almost everything; mainly their real home and family. They might also have been removed to a place where it's difficult or impossible to see their friends. They might even be relocated a new school which brings the hardship of starting all over again with teachers and pupils. All they own is the things they bring with them, clothes and other familiars. They live the ultimate life in a suitcase.

Being young they put up with it.

If they rebel against anything it's something other than the vacuum that's become their new life.

Imagine that you're a young person who has discovered they have been wriongly assigned a gender. It means they are trying to shed themselves even of the person they used to be.

Our eldest foster child is taking all this in their stride.

The child is outwardly cheerful, charming and helpful around the house.

And guess what? The child is now assisting me with the other two foster kids we have in our complicated home.

Middle child is less happy than they might be. A couple of days ago I needed to suggest they go to their room to calm down and when they felt better could come down for a treat.

That's how I try to de-escalate. Sometimes it works. I really needed to go up with the child and have a chat, but dinner was half-underway and the washine machine was coming to a climax. I was up to my neck.

When the dust settled I noticed that middle child was still upstairs but there was also no sign of eldest.

I drained a saucepan of spaghetti and heard people coming downstairs. It was eldest and middle. Middle had sorted themselves out and looked at peace.

Eldest said; "We're all fine now. we're sorry about the wobbly. Okay if we have that ice cream cornet after dinner? We both fancy a mint and chocolate sprinkles one."

Deal.

Later on, in a quiet moment, I asked eldest what he'd said to middle that took away his upset.

He replied that he didn't say much, just listened. Middle needed to have a rant. It's possible the rant included that I'm unreasonable and poke my nose in everywhere. 

Harsh, but fostering folk can handle being the bad guy from time to time.

Eldest didn't do details, he implied it was between him and middle child.

Fine by me, fine by them, fine by God and the universe.

Middle enjoyed the spag boll, then onto his cornet.

Eldest enjoyed his food to, and his treat.

I now feel there are more than 2 foster carers in the house, there are 2 and a half.

And what a half!

My new hero.

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