SPOIL 'EM? YOU BET

 A recent comment from "L" set me thinking. L is singing the praises of McDs and how they can be a magic wand in fostering.

So true.

I found myself reflecting; foster carers have a mysterious image in the eyes of non-foster carers. Many are not sure what to make of us.

Are we a) some kind of angels on earth? super-parents? earth mothers and fathers with hearts as big as the great outdoors?

Or b) chancers who can't hold down a proper job? Dead-enders out of ideas, fallen back on incubating other people's kids.

My point is this. Although I believe the truth lies a lot closer to a) than b), we are only human and very human at that. You have to be human! Humanity is the name of the game!

Here it is, my point;

If the public saw us doing stuff such as dangling the prospect of a Maccy D in return for good behaviour, or using any other other (many) devices we use to achieve everything from major de-escalation to simple compliance - or even 5 minutes peace - they'd think we were nothing special.

But we often have to...shall we say...compromise our high ideals...

To paraphrase a German politician;

"The public must never know how sausages and fostering are put together."

Before I lay a few things bare, I have to stress that we never, ever trangress any of the golden rules of proper fostering. It's a noble profession and we always observe the highest standards. Truth, honesty, kindness, decency, good values, proper behaviour, proper language, high morals; we do all those things, to the very best of our ability.

But. Do we use fast food treats to get what's needed? Sometimes, yes. Do we allow crisps and biscuits and sweets popcorn and Coke? The sugary stuff? If the moment cries out for it, yes. Plenty of ordinary parents are able to take the high moral ground against snackfood, and other children's treats such as late nights and mobile phone use, good luck to them.

We foster folk are playing a different game, in a different league. There are times when we MUST indulge.

Times when we have to bend, be flexible. Give in, even. 

Meet their hopes and dreams, even if that dream amounts to little more than a second Magnum in one day.

Spoil them a bit. Yeah, spoil them rotten sometimes. Can we ever begin to imagine what they've been through? The world owes them a bit of recompense.

So; 

Do we discreetly re-do the washing up when they're watching TV when they've made a pig's ear of it, because we don't want to on their case all the time? Often, yes, and hundreds of other things like that.

Do we put up with bad language (sometimes), and even bad behaviour because we understand where it comes from? Yes, yes and very much YES. And so long as we square it with our own kids if we suspect they might think; "I wouldn't have got away with that…?", if it helps our foster children, then yes, yes, yes.

For example;

Caitlin was a 15 year-old who came to us when her birth mum was hospitaised and it looked like she'd be out of action for some time. No dad on the scene, mum's family somewhat to pot (pun intended). Mum had a problem with obesity, not to mention alcohol, tobacco and maybe other substances. 

Caitlin had understandably picked up some poor eating habits which needed to be managed. She was aware she wanted to lose some pounds, but didn't want to switch to salads, not for a while at least. She wanted - needed - her chips.

I talked to our Blue Sky social worker about it. We came up with a scheme; Caitlin deserved emotional security first and foremost, she could lose some pounds as soon as she lost some of her insecurities. A few weeks after she came to us her school threw a parents evening, which they dressed up as a social thing; quite a good idea actually. The pupils were invited too.

I don't often go to parents evenings, mainly as we foster parents have regular school meetings to track their schooling, but I decided to support the intiative.

There was food. A buffet. A help-yourself job.

Caitlin was in clover; crisps, cup cakes, twiglets, cheese things on toothpicks, pork pie quarters etc etc.

And some big sponge cakes, cut into wedges.

I hovered near Caitlin all evening without it looking obvious, I'm glad I did.

She'd dealt with the evening brilliantly. Several of her teachers wanted to tell me she should work harder, not cause trouble, try to be punctual…the usual. She took it well. As long as she had a paper plate with nibbles in one hand.

Then I saw her go up to the cake table and reach for a second wedge of cake.

The woman behind the table, not a teacher or parent, some kind of in-between who'd presumably had something to do with baking the cakes actually reached out and took the plate out of her hand saying;

"Excuse me, you've had one slice, don't be greedy."

Greedy!

I saw a bit of red mist. I went over, picked up a plate and served myself, then, right in front of the woman turned to Caitlin and slid the wedge onto her plate. It was all I could do to resist poking out my tongue. Then got worried that maybe the woman had only meant well, but nevertheless, it wasn't for her to judge. So I said sweetly;

"She's earned it. Had some really good reports."

Unfortunately Caitlin was nothing but embarrassed. At least, she told me in the car on the way home that she'd been SO embarrassed.

Mind, I knew she was partly angling for a bit of sympathy to negotiate a duck and dive into the One Stop before we got home, which I nipped in the bud.

We indulge them when it's right to do so, it's the professional in us.

We also know when to say no.