Posts Tagged ‘ Fostering ’

His Heart – Poem

A man stands by the side of the road,
A stranger to the home behind.
He’s trying to hide, trying to blend in,
But he’s alone with cars and brick.
Occupied with his phone, he pretends and keeps his eyes down.
He fails.
She sees him and calls: “Daddy!”
His heart breaks at her smile, the joy in her eyes.
Through the pain and uncertainty she still loves him.
He’s encouraged to wave by the woman,
But she’s already there.
At four she can’t be stopped!

Then his eyes settle on the boy,
The boy he would do anything for, give anything for.
Yet the boy doesn’t see him.
His heart breaks.
It shouldn’t be this way. They should be his.
He loves them, he wants them,
All he wants is to protect them,
The boy’s eyes are guided and his chubby face lights up.
Does he know how much he’s loved?
Waving the boy stumbles with distraction and Daddy isn’t there to catch him.
Daddy isn’t allowed to catch him.
Mummy saw to that.
He wants to catch him, to hold him forever.

They pass him and he helplessly watches them pass,
His heart passes by.
This isn’t his fault.
He did nothing wrong.
He simply wants his children more than twice a month.
The car pulls up and in it he climbs, soon passing,
His children, the couple and his heart.
His girl sees him, she’s too clever for her own good.
His boy doesn’t, lost in a toddler’s mind.
His heart has gone for another fourteen sleepless.

© 9th July 2011

Substitute – Poem

Apparently I have a voice,
In this impossible choice,
To put another one first,
And make either place worse.
This is my best chance,
To be forgotten with a glance,
To give away part of my heart,
And rip my seams apart.
I could sleep all through the night,
With not even an echo of a fight,
I could silence the screams,
And have uninterrupted dreams.
Except all they would do is scare,
Bolts of pain will hit like a flare,
The heart with a missing hole,
There’s not enough blood for the toll.
To be valiant and to be brave,
Or give in to what I crave,
To put another above me,
So in their future they can be free.
Or remain true to my selfish roots,
Shielding myself from the new shoots,
That mock me from their heights,
As my dreams fail to take flight.
Should things remain or drastically change,
Wallowing in a self-pity far out of range,
And can I risk losing my buffer,
All for a civilised supper?
Which decision is for the best?
To keep me on a par with the rest?
Or to grant prospects to another?
And keep waiting, with the need to smother.

© 2/11/11


Go and have twins

The fosters have literally just left so excuse the bad language and bile about to come.

The stupid bitch who collected them told me to go have twins now seeing as our house is empty and because my mum will miss the two little fosters.

Fuck you.

You’ve never had other people’s children live with you for over a year, tried not to but still managed to fall in love with them.

You’ve not seen the stress my mum’s gone through being a single foster parent to two under fives.

You haven’t sat there watching as everyone falls in love with two children, fearing that you’ll never have your own.

You haven’t been told that you have unexplained infertility and might never give your husband a child or your mum grand children

So don’t fucking tell me to have twins to make my home full again. You had your own children and now get to do over with these. I get a shit load of absolutely fucking nothing.

Nanny Won’t Mind

I got awoken this morning, not by the usual weekend shouts of two children who cannot possibly play quietly in a bedroom alone together. Nor did I get awoken by the semi-usual shouts of my mother as she calls for her foster children to get upstairs to get washed and dressed.

No this morning I got awoken by my husband informing me that the foster kiddies had trashed their bedroom.

So up I got to inspect the damage.

Yesterday, the three of us adults in the house (my mum, my husband and me) had rearranged their bedroom to give them more room to play and potentially keep all of their toys out of my mum’s living room. Not that they’re ever really here to play with their toys as they spend 5 out of every 7 days with Dog’s grandparents.

All they really do at our house is wake up (optional trashing of the bedroom), have breakfast, get washed and dressed and then over 8 hours later of playing and getting treated, they get dropped off, attempt to calm down, have a bath and then go to bed.

Not that trying to get Cat to go to bed is anything easy. Either Cat corrupts Dog, coercing the sibling into playing, or Cat just refuses and sits on the hall landing until finally someone carries them to bed.

After carefully planning their bedroom for a bit of nicer Feng Shui and with the vain attempt that by playing in their bedroom on a morning, they might not wake my mother up at 6am, we put them to bed in it last night without the usual problems from Cat.

That should have been the first warning sign.

Fair play to them, the toys leading to quieter play had kind of worked. Until they decided to fill their toy cups etc with water from the bathroom and near flooded their room. There were toys strewn across the room, the rug was soaked, the hand towel in the bathroom was soaked and the newly moved furniture had moved. And we’re talking chest of drawers here!

At least they had been playing quietly though.

Except one of them (we’re leaning towards Cat) had knocked/grabbed/I-don’t-know-what one of the many photo frames adorning the walls. These frames are simple clip frames (about 6 in total) and all filled with photos of my mum’s previous foster children. These frames have all been up for the past year and a half that the kids have been living with us with no problem whatsoever.

What my mum had initially seen was simply that the frame was missing from the wall and the photos strewn across the room. What I then quickly discovered that the entire sheet of glass from the frame was shattered into many sharp little pieces. Thankfully this was behind the chest of drawers.

Oh, wait, it was that chest of drawers that the children had attempted and succeeded in moving slightly.

It was a potential disaster waiting to happen.

In all of the years that mum’s been fostering, never has she seen this sort of destruction. In the 18 months these two have been living with us, we’ve seen them destroy almost every single toy they’ve ever been given, but we’ve never seen this. We’ve seen them climb across everything to get to toys, or just because the sofa’s bouncy and “fun”.

It’s the confusion of visiting grandparents who don’t know them well enough at all for entire days, but who don’t act like the parental units they’re hoping to become. In the end it’ll bite them in the bum when they fail to control Cat and Dog if they get granted Special Guardianship. It’ll bite them in the bum when, in ten years, they have two unruly teenagers on their hands.

It’s difficult to not get angry and frustrated with these kids, but it isn’t their fault. They have no idea whatsoever what’s going on. But I can tell you one thing that’s for sure, it’d be easier if the Grandparents stopped acting like grandparents 5 days a week. Children need rules, restrictions, routine.

How do I know that the Grandparents aren’t instilling these three Rs into them? Because when being told off about the state of the bedroom one of the children responded with “Nanny won’t mind”.

What hurts most, other than the ruined photos of children we tried to help over the years, was that it was Dog that said it.

~ Persephone M

Too Many Cooks

My last post on the foster kiddies we have was one written in frustration at social services who can’t seem to communicate or even make logical decisions. Until we discovered the true extent of the issues with the court hearing and how everyone involved had been mislead (because the grandparents, parents and us as the foster carers believed the case would be over and done with by now), the majority of my frustration on the matter was actually with the grandparents.

They are the prosepective soon-to-be special guardians of the two youngest children, the two that my family foster. Now, the children’s family is kinda complicated. There are three children, all under the age of 6 and each with different fathers. The eldest, 6 year’s old, is going to be allowed to move in with her father with whom increasing contact has been occurring in the past year and contact with the mother is agreed upon; I’m not privy to the frequency, but both parties (parents) have agreed. Nothing has been decided about contact between this eldest child and the two younger siblings. Which is something I find frankly disgusting of social services.

Meanwhile the two youngest, 5 and 3, are being considered to live with the youngest’s grandparents. Of course, them having different fathers means that the grandparents are not related to both children. I’m sure lots of you think that its fine because it happens a lot in step-families, but it’s not that simple at all.

For ease, I’m going to refer to the two kiddies as Cat and Dog. I mean nothing disrespectful to either, but Dog is cuddly and loyal, loves eating and has the biggest, wettest, soppiest kisses ever. Cat, on the other hand, can function fully on their own, doesn’t form attachments and can perform to the crowd to seem completely different and lovable, but will scratch you at the first chance. So, Cat’s older and the grandparents involved are not Cat’s, they are Dog’s. I repeat though, that it doesn’t necessarily matter that there’s no blood linking them because it happens all the time in the modern step-family. As long as everyone involved loves the children, that’s all that matters.

Until you realise that ever since Cat’s father arrived back on the scene (he’d been absent Cat’s whole life and Dog’s father was the active father for both), Dog’s father said he was only interested in Dog. Some might find this harsh, that for 3-4 years this man had been the one and only father both children knew and now he’s turning his back on the one that isn’t biologically his. In his favour, he knew that the biological father was on the scene and wanted to get to know Cat. He also knew that his chances of getting custody of his child was easier than custody of both. It may not have had anything to do with not loving Cat, at least that’s how I see it – he did it *for* Cat.

Yet Dog’s grandparents are still seeking Special Guardian status of Cat. Every other day the grandparents get both kiddies for 7 to 8 hours where all they seem to do is take them out and visit cousins and other family members. There are two main problems I can see with this. Firstly, there’s no guarentee that the grandparents will get guardianship, so all these people they’re spending days with, they might net ever see again. Obviously, they’re also not even related to Cat and most of them aren’t biologically related to Dog because grandmother is his step-grandmother and the “cousins” are hers biologically. This just leads to complete confusion and exhaustion for the kiddies, being paraded around 101 people every other day.

The second main problem with this is that the grandparents are spending the days acting as grandparents and having fun with the kiddies. How are they getting to know them in normal circumstances, mundane day-to-day routines if the grandparents are being fun? As Special Guardians, they cannot be grandparents, they have to be parents and at some point they have to face this reality and not just spend 8 hours a day treating them to family day trips.

Last week, Cat was finally able to have a second visit with their father, because social services keep failing to arrange the meetings which is awful given that Dog’s dad no longer “wants” Cat (I say “want” because I honestly believe he’s doing it for virtuous reasons and if Cat’s father were not on the scene, he’d still “want” her). We informed the grandparents of this and they were totally shocked. They had no idea that Cat’s father was involved, that if they get Guardianship he’ll be involved along with the mother. They had no idea that their own son did not “want” Cat. Will they still want Cat if their own son doesn’t? Why should they try and keep their son’s family together by having both of his children when, as far as he’s concerned, his family is only Dog?

And his new child that Dog isn’t even allowed to know about as per the Word of Social Service Gods, yet they can be introduced to a different “cousin” every day, but not Dog’s own half-sibling. I have no idea how the grandparents are keeping that to themselves, perhaps because they have nothing to do with their son (there’s clearly little communication) and maybe the only reason they want Guardianship of Dog (and Cat) is to get one over on their son.

I fear that if they decide they don’t “want” Cat, because their son doesn’t, that Cat will be heartbroken upon losing Grandmother, Pop and all the new cousins. Especially if the grandparents are successful in getting Guardianship of Dog because then Cat will lose Dog, too.

The Social Service Gods should really have placed more rules and guidelines on everyone involved so that even more people didn’t get involved. These two kiddies are going to become even more scarred by all of this.

~ Persephone M