SCARING KIDS

I'm hopping mad.

It's a Monday morning and foster child came downstairs dressed for school and said;

"Did you know that toast can give you cancer?"

I'd seen it on the BBC news site on my ipad so I knew what she was talking about.

She saw it on her phone.

Christmas, don't our children have enough to worry about?

Who the heck thought it would be in the public interest to scare the bejesus out of them?

The foods identified are breakfast cereals, toast, pizza, chips crisps and cakes.

Thanks very much, thank you very very much indeed.

Oh and roast parsnips.

Information like this, unproven as it turns out, might be of use to some adults who overcook these items. I knew a mum once whose children had been relieved of her, who only ever cooked in a deep fat fryer. Didn't matter what she was knocking out for the kids tea apparently. Chips fair enough, but also; pies (savoury and sweet), fish-fingers, chicken, sausages, pork rashers, bacon...

Look, guys, cancer is a scary word to children, my foster kids are terrified of it, I suspect it was bandied about a lot as a boogie thing in homes where everyone smoked.

Our internet has filters for stuff we don't want our children to see. This sort of 'news' story should be filtered out.

It's not much of a news story anyway, I had an uncle Jim who was a journalist, he told me that anything that's not much of a news story gets shuffled so it's released on a Monday morning because there's not much news about on a Monday morning so your 'story' is more likely to get picked up.

I'm not saying the information shouldn't be got out there, but in a thoughtful way.

Scare kids off chips, crisps, pizza and cake and it might do them good in lots of ways, but what ARE we going to give them to eat without a battle?

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PARENT AND CHILD - FOSTERING'S FIVE STAR

We're going back into offering Parent and Child. Shows how long we've been off the list for that, when we did it it was called Mother and Baby. It's not called that any more because a) sometimes (admittedly rarely) it's the father who is bringing up the child alone and b) the child is sometimes older than a baby.

But usually it's the mother and her baby, often virtually newborn; in fact our last one was allocated to us before the baby was born and we got to say hello to the little girl the day she was born.

I say; 'We're going back into Parent and Child' because we opted out of it a while ago because it didn't fit the household we had at the time..and because it's hard.

There are foster parents who specialise in it, I know of one who does nothing else and I say maximum respect to them. It is HARD.

But very worthwhile if you can do it.

It's hard in the physical sense; hard work. The parent is needy; otherwise they could cope without being looked after. The very fact the parent is being fostered is an indication that they are likely to fall short, not just in how to look after their child, but in other respects. Maybe they make bad choices about friends and lifestyle, maybe their own family is a bad influence. So the adult half of the parent and child often needs more than just guidance in looking after the child, but guidance in looking after themselves.

Mostly the parents are very young. Too young to be encumbered with parenthood, but they went and did it. Whilst they always declare they want to bring the child up brilliantly, they also want to be out on the town on a Saturday night. Actually they want to be out on the town morning noon and night, keeping up with their friends, having a youthful blast.

Then there's the child. Usually a baby.

I sometimes get talking to young mums in the supermarket, I always ask how the baby is sleeping. Every so often one of them replies; "Oh he's great, he's asleep at seven every night and sleeps for twelve hours." I always whisper "Keep that to yourself sister, most mums would be so envious I'd fear for your safety".

Babies are the original HARD WORK.

There's only one thing in a house that's harder work than a baby, and that's somebody else's baby. Which is what you take on with Parent and Child.

Even if the parent can deal with the child's needs at 2.00am and 4.00am, it's unlikely you'll be able to sleep through a baby crying, or someone creeping downstairs with a nappy bag.

But we're going in again. Why? We were asked by Blue Sky. We've had some re-training (blimey I thought one thing that stayed the same the last 200,000 years was human babies, but Nooooo!)

For example, bottles may no longer be warmed in the micro. I used to shake it about after its 30 seconds warming because the hot spot thing was obvious, but some young mum didn't know and fed her baby a bottle that was half too hot and half too cold, so now we're all stuck with a micro ban, fair enough.

We used to be worried about a baby being warm enough, now the chief worry is the baby being cool enough, all good thinking. We've done the re-training.

None of this is the REALLY HARD stuff.

The REALLY hard stuff is that as the foster carer we have to make judgements and keep records on whether we think the parent is going to be able to keep the child or whether the child is better off being adopted, and I always found this bit of the job harrowing.

Thank God the final decision is taken by the professionals which is a relief. But we provide a large portion of the evidence. And while a lot of it is simple fact: "Parent continues to fail to recognise baby's different crying as a need for food/changing/cuddle. Often continues to finish a text conversation before responding to baby ". A lot of it is also gut. How do you explain in mere words that a mother is broadly not up to the world's most important job, namely mothering? Well, you don't, you simply record the facts, and they mount up.

And someone else makes the decision. Mind, you play your part, and if you're anything like me you're always hanging out for a happy ending. Maybe the parent losing the child to adoption is a happy ending. You never find out one way or the other.

Parent and Child fostering attracts an allowance of 150% the usual per placement recompense, which is welcome.

The carers I know who specialise in it tell me they appreciate the fact that each placement usually lasts a few months and they take a break, say a month off, to re-charge the batteries.

We won't be that lucky as we have ongoing ordinary placements in our homer as well.

Wish me luck.

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CRISIS COMING

Had a fascinating conversation over Christmas with my niece Trish who is a Primary School teacher.

In her class this year are two children who live under the same roof. One is Sam, the family's real son. The other is Kellie, their foster daughter. The family have another child of their own, a daughter called Jasmine who attends the same school and is in the year above the other two.

Interesting three-way dynamic. They rub along like any ordinary set of three siblings, which means they sometimes are best friends, sometimes they have tiffs.

Every so often something happens which gives the children something to cope with. This is what happened just before the school broke up for Christmas;

The older pupils put on a play, well a show more like. Several little acts; a bit of dancing, a boy who plays the tuba (honestly!) a couple of sketches and some singing. The top act is Jasmine, the older sister of the two pupils in Trish's class. Jasmine can really sing, apparently, a bit of a star.

So for the whole of the week leading up to the show, Kellie the foster daughter and Jasmine the older daughter didn't get on well, there were all sorts of emotions. Nothing mega, just a bit of sister rivalry, what could be more normal?

This could;

On the morning of the show Kellie (the foster daughter) began telling everyone that HER sister was the star of the show. It was all "MY sister this" and "MY sister that" and Trish thought to herself "How lovely and cute and warm..."

However.

During the show Kellie could be heard still giving the "MY sister" thing large, shouting "Go on Sis! You show 'em!"

As Jasmine was getting a big round of applause Trish noticed Sam the brother stand up under cover of darkness and sneak out. She found him in the corridor. He was crying. Big tears.

Trish said that Sam was incensed;

"Kellie keeps going on about Jasmine being HER sister, but she's not HER sister. She's MY sister."

Trish had a discreet word with the foster carer who was grateful for the information, and I bet helped smooth things down as best one can, not that it would be a piece of cake.

It was one of those situations where you are pleased that your foster child feels part of the family, but unsettled that it's given your own child something to deal with.

BTW, the other thing Trish told me about is how quickly the numbers of Primary schoolchildren with difficulties are increasing.

She has 11 out of her 31 pupils on the books of the school's intervention staff.

Her Head Teacher is on the phone more to Social Services than parents, the local authority and the supply teachers office etc., put together.

I think the country is going to suddenly wake up to a crisis for children not unlike the way the rapid arrival of the dementia crisis took many by surprise, even though it had been rumbling for years.

And I doubt that schools will be better supported, just as the social care services have been left to deal with their crisis. Mind, they have the Red Cross pitching in.

Who's going to pitch in and help education?

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WHAT SHOULD YOUR FOSTER CHILD MEAN TO YOU?

The most unfathomable question in fostering is; exactly what should your foster child mean to you.

With your own children it's a clear relationship, or at least it ought to be.

Parenting your own child is the most important thing in life. You love them utterly. You want them to be okay, whatever that means, and you know that you'll be tracking them, rooting for them, for the rest of your life.

Why? Because the fact that they are here on planet earth, breathing and living, laughing and crying, was our idea. We planted them here, so if we have any sense of responsibility we'll do everything we can to help them make something of their lives. Which doesn't mean bullying them into having the life we want them to have, but identifying what they want out of life and respecting their dreams enough to get behind them.

Our 'real' children mean everything to us, and dear God trying to make their journey pain-free might be impossible, but it's what we have to do.

I cringe when I meet parents who think their children owe them something for the 'sacrifices' they made for them.

So.

That's our relationship with our own children.

How about the children belonging to other people who we are asked to care for?

Tricky.

Tricky for us, more than tricky for them.

And I'm thinking more and more that the key to knowing what they should mean to us is working out what they want us to mean to them.

Some want a full-on surrogate mother and father. I've not come across that a great deal to be honest.

Many want a strong figure resembling a noble and decent older sibling or grandparent.

Some don't want any familial aura; they want a chief cook and bottle washer who meets their basic needs.

The vast majority want the above three options each to be available depending on their mood and the moment.

So. What should our foster children mean to us?

Well, one minute they are our actual children, especially when the big bad world is snapping at their ankles. Next minute we are someone who can advise the boys on their best haircut now they've moved on from hoodies or josh with the girls about Man Utd's failings. Then in the twinkling of an eye we are their butler/chambermaid, doing their bidding and getting out of their way so they can find themselves as budding adults.

And if that's what they want us to be to them, then that's what each of them are to us depending on their mood and moment;

* occasionally we love them as if they are our own,

* sometimes as if they are our nephews or nieces,

* other times as cherished guests or customers.

In our house recently we've been working on this technique with one particularly mixed-up child who swings this way and that, sometimes several times in a day. We're always on the look-out for which role to play, and find that our feelings towards her match each role change.

But. Underneath all the switchback riding of our emotions is definitely a strong constant;

She means to us exactly what every foster child should.

A helluva lot.

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FOSTERING BREAKS

When the schools are broken up fostering is a different kettle of fish.

For foster children everything's "broken". Their home, their school.

On a normal school week your brood are got up and out of the house Monday to Friday, with all the usual moans. No problem.

From around eight/eight thirty in the morning you've got the place to yourself and it's down to what are increasingly called 'Chores'.

The little ones show up again in your life about four, kick off their shoes in the hall, dump their backpack on the mat and vanish to the sanctuary of their own bedroom in order to experience what is now called 'Chilling'.

Saturday and Sunday are different. It all depends on what age foster child/children you have whether you're going to be entertainments manager or a spare part because they have got their social life sorted (for better or for worse).

But when it's holiday time...

All day every day. And the Christmas break is the most interesting because the weather and the early darkness mean they are...

BORED!

You have your contingencies; X Box helps. If you have Sky there's always a Spongebob on somewhere in planet earth. I say let them get bored at first, then they're marginally more grateful for your (feeble) efforts to amuse them.

Come day three they are climbing the walls.

Time for baking. Why do we bother? We get all the ingredients together, do the bulk of it then ALL the clearing up...

Time for painting/drawing. See above.

I've tried traditional pastimes such as house-based treasure hunts, extreme hide and seek.

Board games. They point out that they are called bored games.

Tried my own pastimes; tobogganing down the stairs on an Amazon flat pack cardboard box which causes great excitement which lasts for eight to ten minutes.

Mannequin challenge (new - and recommended). We used to call it 'Statues' when I was knee high. The last one remaining static wins.

If you're lucky...very VERY lucky, you might get them...talking!

Let the temperature drop, the urgency wane, and sometimes, they chat. I'm not talking Alan Carr here, three minutes of interplay is all you get, but it's golden.

People who are new to fostering hope that their foster children will open up about their lives, but they view their past as a failure and are haunted by the thought that it was all their fault. But when they are around you all day every day for a few weeks on end, they sometimes open up a bit and it's priceless;

Child: "I know what my mum is doing now"

Foster Mum: "What's she doing then?"

C: "Shouting. Probably at my dad."

F: "Really?"

C: "Yeah."

F says nothing, nothing can be a very good thing to say.

C: "She shouts a lot."

F: "What about?'

C: "Everything".

F: "Oh dear. What do you do when she's shouting?"

C: "Well..." (thinks)... I used to go upstairs. But then I started to tell her to stop it. But I used to end up shouting too, so that didn't work."

F: "Did she shout at you?'

C: "God yeah...duh!"

F: "What for?"

C: "I dunno."

F: "What, you mean you got shouted at but you never found out why?'

C: "Yeah. Kind of."

F: "Like you'd done something wrong but you didn't know what it was."

C: "Yeah, maybe. Bye."

And gone. Which was how we learned, one Christmas Eve, why the child was permanently experimenting with disruptive behaviours in order to try to understand what would earn rebuke and reprimand and what was acceptable.

A lucky break, and all because there was an extended commercial break on the blessed Spongebob.

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THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR

The song says that Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year.

If you mutter; "Humbug' they shout; 'Scrooge!'

I don't care; much of it is humbug and for the foster carer it's the most challenging time of the year.

First up, did you know that more children are taken into care around Christmas than any other time of the year?

We're told that this is because Christmas throws more families onto the rocks than anything else.

It exaggerates poverty, encourages drinking, magnifies rifts.

It magnifies rifts like this;

A man, lets call him Ricky, has three children; Paris, Ripley and Wayne. He had Paris with a woman called Jade. He had Ripley with a woman called Zizzie. Jade hates Zizzie because she thinks Zizzie stole Ricky. Ricky had Wayne with Fern who is Zizzie's sister. Wayne was named Wayne out of 'respect' for the man who thinks he's Wayne's father (big Man U fan) but isn't.

Paris is currently being fostered much to Zizzie's delight because it means she's a better mum than Jade but jealous because Jade is partying while Zizzie hasn't got a life what with all the bl**ding kids.

Did I mention that all these sad people live on the same estate?

Ricky's mum wants to see both the two grandchildren she knows about to give them their Christmas presents, they're all she's got as her husband has bu**ered off with someone else. However it's a scheduling horror show because no-one can agree on who sees who, when and why over Christmas.

Foster parents recognise this sort of reality from the backgrounds of the children they care for, the rest of the public have no choice but watch Jeremy Kyle to find out about such lives.

Zizzie's current partner, a friend of Ricky, is having it off with someone else too and Zizzie's home is already one with blood on the walls. Having to keep the kids occupied in the run-up to Christmas is hard enough for her but she can blackmail them into good behaviour with threats that Santa won't come.

If only schools went back on Boxing Day.

It's the aftermath of Christmas Day when everything comes to crunch; bored kids, Zizzie suspecting that Jade (the one with the child in foster care) is having it easy because she can lie in until lunchtime then still go to the pub as her child benefit is still being paid her. Meanwhile Jade is envious of Zizzie who is playing happy families. In reality Zizzie's trying to keep up with Jade's lifestyle and is out every night. All night.

Jade will phone social services twice between Chistmas Day and New Years Day and pass on stories Ricky's told her about what a bad mother Zizzie is, which he did to get her confidence so he could get his leg over.

Ripley, along with Zizzie's other children (by different dads) will be taken away from Zizzie for their own safety and taken to emergency foster carers who will do their best to help an abused, frightened and lonely child.

The most wonderful time of the year.

Ripley's emergency foster family have two foster children already. One is a permanent placement who will never go home but is longing to, and knows that his mum and dad are having some kind of Christmas - separately, no-one knows where - which he's sad about missing even though every Christmas he can remember was a nightmare. Their other child will one day go home and is having her Christmas spoiled by her real parents who are trying too hard to over-compensate for their failings by trying to intervene over Christmas with excessive contacts, texting, Facetiming, overspending on presents and hassling to see their child on Christmas Day itself, but not really wanting to because no kids means they can drink to excess, although having kids never stopped them before.

Both children give their foster parents more challenges over Christmas than usual.

The foster parents get through Christmas using the old fostering trick of taking a glimpse of them when they are asleep. All children look like butter wouldn't melt when they are asleep.

Look, Christmas isn't all doom and gloom in fostering, far from it.

I can remember countless moments of pure deep joy. A couple of examples;

The child who laid eyes on the Christmas dinner table where there was no more room for dishes of food and said (I quote) "I didn't know you could have so much food".

The child who, on opening her big present said (I quote) "Is this what it's like to be happy?"

But is it the most wonderful time of the year?

Oh here I go dreaming as I always do, that this year will be the best Christmas ever.

Oh s*d it.

YES!!!

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WELLING UP HERE...

There's a ghostly space left in a house when a foster child leaves.

There are positives, such as the 'Job Done' thing - fostering is all about helping a child go back home and repair a broken family. Then there's the relief of the reduced number of household tasks and responsibilities that go along with having a foster child in your house.

But the positives are eclipsed by the sense that in it's tiniest form there's been a minuscule death in the family.

Obviously in no way comparable to the real thing. Is there anything more awful for parents than the loss of a child?

But when a foster child leaves there's an empty bed, a spare place at the table.

There's a wheel missing off the family trolley.

We talk nostalgically about Romeo. Sitting at the table eating, if someone mentions football someone will say;

"Good job Romeo isn't here he'd be going on and on about Pogba..."

Or;

"Now that Romeo's gone does the kitchen still have to smell of macaroni cheese (his favourite) on Tuesdays?"

Other half and I still lie awake and discuss his prospects, just as we did when he was here;

"He's got a good brain, he could do okay at school it's just that the other stuff is filling his head. He needs some private lessons in..oh no, wait WE'RE NOT HIS MUM AND DAD ANY MORE."

We get a bit gloomy thinking about how it might not work for him back with his chaotic mother, but re-assure ourselves we did our best for him while he was with us.

There were no tears from him when we had a quick goodbye hug before he got into the social worker's car. It was the usual tentative fostering hug, I put my hands on his shoulders and sort of leaned into his space without touching. He just sort of raised his arms and let his finger-tips brush on my shoulders.

Foster children and hugging is something you get good advice about from Blue Sky. It's not a big deal but there are some useful tips I always stick to, mainly to let the children take the lead, if they want a hug fine, just make sure it's a quick social arms-round-the-shoulders hug and then move swiftly onto whatever next, best don't over-do.

It takes resolve not to give in to the urge to want to wrap your arms around them as a protection against the big bad world that has done what it's done to them, but that's you doing what you want to do, and everything in fostering has to be right for the foster child, not just you.

I had a little cry on my own after the car carrying him back to his mother disappeared round the corner at the end of our road.

We have only two rules in our house;

1. Keep waving until the car is out of sight.

2. Do everything I say.

See what I'm doing there?

Good tip that one. I could sell it on EBay.

I'm off the point now because I'm getting that welling up thing all the while I'm thinking about him.

Bloody fostering.

How I love it.

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