Yo! I just had a sweet fostering moment.
Our eldest foster child is still with us despite reaching adulthood.
He's a 'permanent'. He has no home to return to, and he continues to need us to give him a home.
He's making slow but sure progress towards independence, which is the aim. He might be eligible for accomodation elsewhere in a time to come, but at the moment he needs our home.
Needs me.
He and I have a well-established relationship. I've been managing his foibles for a good few years now. If you knew what happened to him as a child, knew the things he's suffered, knew any of the horrors and agony of his early life, you'd wonder how he manages to walk and talk in a straight line.
Between the two of us we've rolled up our sleeves and got him aimed in the right direction. There've been times when it's been nothing but blood sweat and tears for the both of us.
Sorry, that's a bit of an exageration; there's been no blood. Well, no literal blood, maybe a few gallons of it metaphorically.
He'd been so cruelly abused by 'parents' that anyone who steps into the role of 'parent' to him is automatically the enemy. And, from the moment he arrived, that became me.
My Blue Sky social worker kept reminding me it's not unique for a foster child to begin by resenting their foster parents a little.
I wasn't phased by the young man's opposition, been there before, I have the T shirt.
One doesn't go into fostering to be loved and revered.
The joy lies in mentoring progress towards a better place.
And this young fellow had a long and troubled journey to undertake.
So. He and I embarked together, an odd couple because he had resentments towards his guide. I symbolised something he'd come to fear and hate; the parent.
We bumbled along though, with him challenging me every chance he got, refusing even casual niceties such as "good morning" or a friendly pat on the head for a good joke or for him doing the washing up halfway well enough.
He wanted no intimacy or engagement with anyone even slightly parental. The school said the same. He even had trouble with friends if he saw them acting as if above him.
We had a fascinating Blue Sky training session on it.
Transactional Analysis it's called. Psychologists agree that there are countless occasions where a person unconsciously adopts the role of parent over someone else who is made to feel like the child.
My young foster person was deeply cautious of offering any engagement with anyone of the parent class. Consequently I got no direct reward for my fostering of him, but was easily sustained by his growing success at school, at sports, at art and music.
He was getting somewhere.
But he still cut me out, pretty much.
Of course I coped! For one thing I had a tireless Blue Sky social worker to help me, and so she did, throughout.
I say 'throughout' not becuause the resentment has ended. It hasn't.
Although…
Earlier this morning (ie 4.00am) my phone tinkled. You never turn off your phone in fostering, I don't care what they say about radiation.
It was my grown-up foster boy.
He'd spent the evening in a bar watching England versus Mexico.
He was mellow, kind of…happy.
He's old enough to have a beer, all his mates do, we keep an eye. He's sensible.
Would I possibly drive down and pick him up?
Obs, yes.
He got in beside me and immediately started criticising my driving (normal). "Too slow."
I wove around a pothole.
"No point!"
etc.
I told him there were cold roast potatoes left over from Sunday lunch.
He curled his lip;
"Nah"
We pulled onto our driveway.
He sat still for a moment then went;
"Gimme your hand."
I gave him my hand.
He embraced it in a way I'll remember if I live to be a thousand.
And took himself off to bed with a huge bowl of cold roast spuds, and the last beer from us watching the game.
He had no work later that day, his boss had closed the business knowing no-one would be any good. Made them come in on the Sunday before to square things.
Eldest said he needed one last beer to make sure he nodded off. Planned to sleep til mid-afternoon.
Not me.
My sleeping draught is this wonderful fostering thing.
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