MEALTIME MATTERS

 Mealtimes can be complicated in fostering. Food in every form is SO important to every foster child I've ever had. I can't overstate how valuable a piece of kit that food can be in the foster parents' toolbox.

Nobody enjoys feeling hungry, and it seems that most- if not all - children who come into care have suffered all sorts of deprivations in the food department.

Back in the day when I started fostering, the business of providing the family with food was a simple. Breakfast; cereal or toast. School lunchbox; a peanut butter sandwich, a piece of fruit, ready salted crisps. There were no juice cartons in those days, if the child got thirsty at school there was a drinking fountain. At weekends they'd get a slightly fancier lunch - mayber an omellete or a bacon sarnie. 7 days a week the main meal was the evening meal; meat and two veg.

However. The more I fostered, the more I had to keep up with trends, the more I got into getting their food spot on for them.

It wasn't a headache. Doing the best you can for your whole family - including your foster child - is one of the best things in life.

First off; whenever a new child is on their way to me, I ask my Blue Sky social worker if it's klnown what the child's favourite food is. And I rush out and buy whatever is needed to serve it up for their first meal at our house. This trick ALWAYS pays big time. If you're a young person sitting having your first meal with a strange family the last thing you want to have to do is force down food you don't like. Getting this one right isn't hard; they don't want coq au vin or lobster thermidor. 80% of the children I've had arrive at our house were fans of pasta or spag boll. Mind, nowadays the Big Mac is creeping up the leaderboard.

However; I write these words at the beginning of 2025; and things are starting to get complicated…

"Meat is murder"

Vegetarianism and veganism, both of them noble practices, are a growing issue in fostering. Knocking up a simple spag boll isn't simple any more: either the whole family eats one made with plant-based mince, or you have to have two saucepans on the go, one with ordinary mince, the other with soya mince.

These days I find that about 50% of teenage children in care go through a vegetarian phase. You have no option but to go with it.

Then there's food fads. 

"I don't eat nuffink green"

I get that kids have foods they simply cannot even look at. I used to feel nauseaus at school every Friday when it was "cheese pie" for school lunch. I had a brother for whom the humble tomato was a monster of Godzilla proportions. He practically up-chucked at their very mention.

We foster carers have to learn about each new child's fads, and most have quite a few.

"Can I have a biscuit?"

For so many children in care the concept of snack food in the house is seriously flawed.  I've had children who were practised in raiding the kitchen bin for scraps. Another kid used to snack on uncooked spaghetti strands when the parents were asleep because the parents wouldn't notice the packet was one or two stands short.

I try to tackle the snack thing by giving them a bowl of fruit in their room that belongs to them; to eat whenever they want, and offer pan au chocolate pastries and ice cream as ocassional rewards for good things.

"I like this but I don't like that"

This one is what used to be called "Picky".  Young people increasingly know what they like and they don't like. And are proud of their preferences, as if it defines their identity. To me and my other half, a pizza is a pizza is a pizza, Not to todays growing army of gourmet fast food afficionados.

Quick story;

A teenage girl I'll call Millie came to us, she loved food, was a bit on the large size. So what?

A bigger problem was getting her to attend school.

One morning she'd had the results of some blood tests and the doctor wanted to see her. She was stressed. I managed to pursuade her into the car to drive her to school, but halfway there she got a block on the idea and said she wouldn't go in.

We were already late, it was after 10.00am. But if I managed to get her into the building it would tick a box (local authorities track school attendance and chase us if the numbers are poor).

I asked Millie if she'd snaffled any breakfast.

"Nah"

So I said;

"Oh dear you must be hungry?"

Millie; "Ye, a bit"

Me; "If we go by MacDonalds will you go into school?"

A deal was done.

Now, forgive me if I have any details a bit wobbly, I'm no expert on the intricacies of the world of fast food…

We pulled onto the car park of a MacDonalds, it was about 10.15am.

I asked her what she wanted and she said; "A Big Mac"

I went in and asked, they said they didn't serve Big Macs until 10.30am.

I went back and told Millie she'd have to have a Macdonalds breakfast instead.

Millie blew up. 

Thwarted. 

She was being press-ganged into a school where she was bullied about her weight, the doctor was worried about her tests but she didn't know what the worry was, and her foster carer had promised a Big Mac and all she was getting was a puny Macdonalds breakfast.

Long story short; Millie and I sat in the car park until 10.31am and she got her Big Mac.

And boy, the look on her face.

Millie had her nosh, and it was nosh she'd won in her battle with a rotten old world.

Beautiful.

PS: I think about Millie often, and hope she's doing ok. Same with all your foster kids...