HOME ALONE

In fostering you can't help but become wondrous at the mysteries of the mind, especially the mind of a child. The mind of a child who's been to hell and back is something to behold. And if you're going to do any good for a crumpled kid you have to get curious about what goes on between their ears.

Digging down while respecting the child's privacy is always fascinating and almost always useful. It's become a thing I've learned to really love down the years

Triggers are big in fostering. They're the little token symbols that remind children in care about upsetting things they've been through. 

You recieve a child into your home who is ok most of the time, but then suddenly gets upset. From nowhere. Something made them angry… but what?

Sometimes it's easy to interpret;

I've mentioned before the foster mum whose child kicked off when she'd noticed she'd forgotten to put out the wheelie bin to be emptied. The look on her face - a frown - was enough to trigger memories of what might happen when a parent had a grim look on their face.

I had a child who got upset when I opened a ring-pull can of baked beans because it triggered memories of her dad opening cans of beer and what happened next.

By the way I'm not a psychologist. But then, most psychologists aren't foster parents…

We were watching Home Alone with little Saul, who's been with us a few months now and we're all knitting together well. He knows us and we know him. But in fostering you're endlessly uncovering new layers and Saul is no more or less complex than the average child who has endured a bad time at their real home followed by the intense disruption of being removed and taken to live with strangers.

So there we were watching Home Alone two Saturday evenings ago. It was cosy in the living room, Saul sat on the end of the sofa with a duvet over his legs in case he nodded off. He doesn't sleep all that well during the night and sometimes is exhausted before his bedtime. There was popcorn (the new microwaveable stuff is fantastic BTW) and Fanta or diet coke. 

This had become our routine Saturday night treat.

We'd roared with laughter every time the heroic Kevin toughed out being left behind and put on a brave face.

Then, right at the end something strange happened, which we barely noticed at the time. 

Remember the bit at the end when Kevin's mum gets home ahead of everybody else and discovers Kevin who's beaten off the burglars? She looks down at Kevin and says;

"Oh Kevin. I'm so sorry."

Well, at that moment Saul let out a stifled wail and pulled the duvet over his head. I had a little tear in one eye as it's a tender moment and I figured Saul had been touched by the reconciliation.

You hardly notice quirky things like that at the time and even if you do you have no reason to attach any significance to them.

When it came to bedtime Saul was a bit difficult. He didn't want to go upstairs and when he did there was an argument about teeth-cleaning which turned into a bit of a scene. Ten minutes after I finally got him settled and went downstairs I heard crying from his bedroom. Long story short I squatted on the floor outside his bedroom door for what seemed like an age until he dropped off. 

The following Saturday I fished out Back To The Future and set everything up. It was either Michael Fox or Shrek. I don't know about anybody else but I find a lot of the animations haven't aged quite as well as children's films with real people. Anyway, it helps the evening jog along if it's a film we can all enjoy at different levels. Surprisingly Mamma Mia has proved popular with foster children of all makes and sizes. I waffle.

Saul didn't appear when called. Shouted down from his bedroom he didn't want to watch a film. Shouted he didn't care if there was popcorn. I went up to see what the problem was.

He said that films made him unhappy.  "All films" he said.

Me; "All films? Why?"

Saul; "Because they all end with all the family together and everybody laughing and hugging and that…"

"Jeez" I thought to myself "I've never looked at them like that before".

He was right. A child who's yet to have any kind of happy ending to any episode or adventure is going to feel bad. Envious at best. Aggrieved and angry at worst.

"And in Home Alone" he said "At the ending of it. When Kevin's mummy says sorry…"

I waited. I hadn't expected what he said next;

"Well mummy's don't say sorry. Ever. Never ever ever!"

Talked to our Blue Sky social worker about it. Saul was often left alone and used to be terrified of being alone. Whenever whoever was supposed to be looking after him returned he was even more terrified because…well I have to leave that as three dots.

We wondered about telling Saul about how Macauley Caulken is these days.

Not only that, I've decided that Home Alone is not the best movie for kids in care, it's not the first time a foster child has found it a bit thought provoking.