life story
The influence of birth family
29/03/2010 23:43
Yet another story in the weekend press that examined one premise – whether children convicted of murder can ever live normal lives – and ended up being another tale of tragedy about a child in care.
Kate Legge in The Weekend Australian Magazine (March 27-28 2010, p 17) recounts ‘The story of S’, convicted at 13 of murder, sent to jail but with his anonymity intact. She charts his journey, from care at the age of 6, to rehabilitation efforts in jail, which led to his release and a relationship, parenthood and a steady job. But he was open to the influence of an associate of his family, and embezzled substantially. While on trial he had a relationship with a minor, and is now in jail.
The details are not contained in the article, but S’s background is distressingly familiar. The article states that he was ‘surrendered to a patchwork of residential placements’ and that during a 2 year period ‘he absconded from state care 26 times’. That’s at least every month.
Legge’s last paragraph concludes that despite the rehab efforts, the counselling, the positive prospects he had proven he could create and capitalise on, he ‘couldn’t in the end withstand the primordial tug of a family that had given him up at such a tender age’.
Well, how on earth could he? When no significant family relationship ever took its place when he was a child? When no one taught him how to think, deal or act with his birth family?
If he’d never experienced a positive parental relationship or formed an enduring relationship with one significant adult, then of course his birth parents remain a force to be reckoned with. As Bernie Geary, Victoria’s Child Safety Commission notes, ‘you can’t transplant empathy into a kid who has grown up with a lack of it, as well as poor role models’.
Geary states that is why they need a champion. We would suggest that is why they need a ‘parent’.
Our experience, supported by the advice of experienced workers, is that coming to grips with birth family and their individual circumstances is make or break stuff for most children in care.
Children need an explanation of the circumstances of their being in care, and this must become deeper and more detailed as they mature. Critically, this has to provide a context for them in which to deal with their birth parents. Using S’s case, he was still open to pressure and intimidation from members of his birth family. No one taught him how to deal with those, and perhaps he had no one to turn to for advice?
There is overwhelming evidence that children need a significant positive relationship that is either parental in nature or very close to it. As carers we become substitute parents, and we should never be accused of overstepping that line. By anyone.
We still read anecdotes online of carers feeling like they are under siege from workers and lawyers in the system. Too many carers have to convince a sceptical ‘system’ that they really are able to take on that relationship for the children, not because they have an agenda (desperate to have children, want to adopt, in it for the money).
We couldn’t help but read the article with that sinking feeling. The feeling that the system worked desperately hard to patch up this child. It threw all its skill and best efforts at him, and he showed he could rise to the challenge. The system tried to teach him empathy, and responsibility. But it was too late.
The system let him down when he was 6. He should have learned empathy and responsibility at the knee of someone who cared about him. He is another example of a child who went into foster care drift. His story is made all the more tragic because for a time, it appeared he was going to defy all the statistics.
Kate Legge in The Weekend Australian Magazine (March 27-28 2010, p 17) recounts ‘The story of S’, convicted at 13 of murder, sent to jail but with his anonymity intact. She charts his journey, from care at the age of 6, to rehabilitation efforts in jail, which led to his release and a relationship, parenthood and a steady job. But he was open to the influence of an associate of his family, and embezzled substantially. While on trial he had a relationship with a minor, and is now in jail.
The details are not contained in the article, but S’s background is distressingly familiar. The article states that he was ‘surrendered to a patchwork of residential placements’ and that during a 2 year period ‘he absconded from state care 26 times’. That’s at least every month.
Legge’s last paragraph concludes that despite the rehab efforts, the counselling, the positive prospects he had proven he could create and capitalise on, he ‘couldn’t in the end withstand the primordial tug of a family that had given him up at such a tender age’.
Well, how on earth could he? When no significant family relationship ever took its place when he was a child? When no one taught him how to think, deal or act with his birth family?
If he’d never experienced a positive parental relationship or formed an enduring relationship with one significant adult, then of course his birth parents remain a force to be reckoned with. As Bernie Geary, Victoria’s Child Safety Commission notes, ‘you can’t transplant empathy into a kid who has grown up with a lack of it, as well as poor role models’.
Geary states that is why they need a champion. We would suggest that is why they need a ‘parent’.
Our experience, supported by the advice of experienced workers, is that coming to grips with birth family and their individual circumstances is make or break stuff for most children in care.
Children need an explanation of the circumstances of their being in care, and this must become deeper and more detailed as they mature. Critically, this has to provide a context for them in which to deal with their birth parents. Using S’s case, he was still open to pressure and intimidation from members of his birth family. No one taught him how to deal with those, and perhaps he had no one to turn to for advice?
There is overwhelming evidence that children need a significant positive relationship that is either parental in nature or very close to it. As carers we become substitute parents, and we should never be accused of overstepping that line. By anyone.
We still read anecdotes online of carers feeling like they are under siege from workers and lawyers in the system. Too many carers have to convince a sceptical ‘system’ that they really are able to take on that relationship for the children, not because they have an agenda (desperate to have children, want to adopt, in it for the money).
We couldn’t help but read the article with that sinking feeling. The feeling that the system worked desperately hard to patch up this child. It threw all its skill and best efforts at him, and he showed he could rise to the challenge. The system tried to teach him empathy, and responsibility. But it was too late.
The system let him down when he was 6. He should have learned empathy and responsibility at the knee of someone who cared about him. He is another example of a child who went into foster care drift. His story is made all the more tragic because for a time, it appeared he was going to defy all the statistics.
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Growing up in the care of strangers
12/01/2010 22:25
That’s the title of a book…. about care.
We haven’t read the book. But its authors are profiled over at www.fostercareinamerica.com, so that tells us it’s worth looking into. It’s available on Amazon but takes some time to be delivered to us here in Oz (and at some expense). So we hope the authors will forgive us for taking little more than the title, and a bit of information from the blurbs, and writing something about it.
You can read about the authors, Dr John Seita and Waln Brown, at www.fostercareinamerica.com, and they have a website for the book (which tells you a little more).
They and their contributors are foster care alumni. It is marvelous to see those who experienced the system capable of, and interested in, working in it. That’s one of their points. When is the system going to take on board advice from those who experienced it?
Business listens to its customers (or tries to) frequently. And there’s a whole wave of debate and discussion globally about Government transparency and interaction. And yet our experience of the foster care system is, quite frankly, that the ‘consumers’ of it – children and birth families – and partners in it – carers – often don’t get much of a say. Their ability to do so seems to be very much at the mercy of individual workers, and not enshrined in the system.
If we take the title of this book at face value, you shouldn’t have to grow up in the care of strangers, should you?
The word ‘strangers’ hit us hard because we have been strangers to more than one small, bemused child who landed on our doorstep. The dazed look on their faces was quite hard to face, and we remember our pleasure when we’ve watched it gradually give way to some expression as they become familiar with us.
It’s a good day for your child in care when the only strangers in their life are those outside your family and their birth family, and their circle of friends and acquaintances. Like most kids.
The answer to strangers is permanency. If a child needs permanency then it is up to the system to make that decision and make that decision for them, in a timely fashion. Every day counts.
Then, as carers, you need to hold the line. You will know which relationships mean what to the child. We’ve always tried to make sure workers understand that a child in care is a child who has a birth family they don’t live with, rather than a child in substitute care who needs to conform to some pre-defined relationship with their birth family. We have made sure that any child’s individual interests didn’t get swamped beneath the standard way the system does things. We’ve acted like the parents. Because we are.
We’ve said for a while that the foster carer base needs to be segmented. There is a vast difference between short and long term care – both in what a child needs from it and what a carer needs to be able to commit to and provide. All of which drives us to advocate more transparency about how this system works.
So our congratulations to every one of the contributors to Growing up in the Care of Strangers. Not just for what they have achieved in their lives, but for speaking out.
We haven’t read the book. But its authors are profiled over at www.fostercareinamerica.com, so that tells us it’s worth looking into. It’s available on Amazon but takes some time to be delivered to us here in Oz (and at some expense). So we hope the authors will forgive us for taking little more than the title, and a bit of information from the blurbs, and writing something about it.
You can read about the authors, Dr John Seita and Waln Brown, at www.fostercareinamerica.com, and they have a website for the book (which tells you a little more).
They and their contributors are foster care alumni. It is marvelous to see those who experienced the system capable of, and interested in, working in it. That’s one of their points. When is the system going to take on board advice from those who experienced it?
Business listens to its customers (or tries to) frequently. And there’s a whole wave of debate and discussion globally about Government transparency and interaction. And yet our experience of the foster care system is, quite frankly, that the ‘consumers’ of it – children and birth families – and partners in it – carers – often don’t get much of a say. Their ability to do so seems to be very much at the mercy of individual workers, and not enshrined in the system.
If we take the title of this book at face value, you shouldn’t have to grow up in the care of strangers, should you?
- Did you ever wonder where you might be sleeping tomorrow, or the next day?
- Did you ever wonder whether the adult giving you assistance or instruction really, really cared deep down for you, or were they just doing a job?
- Did you ever want just one person to tell you they loved you, just you?
- Did you ever think that, no matter what, there was one place and one person who would welcome you, any time?
The word ‘strangers’ hit us hard because we have been strangers to more than one small, bemused child who landed on our doorstep. The dazed look on their faces was quite hard to face, and we remember our pleasure when we’ve watched it gradually give way to some expression as they become familiar with us.
It’s a good day for your child in care when the only strangers in their life are those outside your family and their birth family, and their circle of friends and acquaintances. Like most kids.
The answer to strangers is permanency. If a child needs permanency then it is up to the system to make that decision and make that decision for them, in a timely fashion. Every day counts.
Then, as carers, you need to hold the line. You will know which relationships mean what to the child. We’ve always tried to make sure workers understand that a child in care is a child who has a birth family they don’t live with, rather than a child in substitute care who needs to conform to some pre-defined relationship with their birth family. We have made sure that any child’s individual interests didn’t get swamped beneath the standard way the system does things. We’ve acted like the parents. Because we are.
We’ve said for a while that the foster carer base needs to be segmented. There is a vast difference between short and long term care – both in what a child needs from it and what a carer needs to be able to commit to and provide. All of which drives us to advocate more transparency about how this system works.
So our congratulations to every one of the contributors to Growing up in the Care of Strangers. Not just for what they have achieved in their lives, but for speaking out.
Details on children kept from foster carers
01/10/2009 23:01
‘Thousands of foster carers are welcoming children into their homes without being given the full facts about the children’s past, including whether they were victims of abuse’.
We put the link to this Times Online (UK) article on Twitter, and quickly got a response:
11:25pm, Sep 17 from Web
feeling this first hand
The report came from Fostering Network, which represents 43,000 carers in Britain. A couple of court rulings had opened the door for local authorities to be sued if they didn’t meet their duty of care to foster families.
The statistics were blunt – more than 51% of carers in the UK say that they have been given inadequate information about a child in their care, which has put themselves, their own children and even the foster child at risk. A full 30% weren’t told about the child’s medical requirements, 50% were not informed about a history of abuse, and 75% said that they were not made aware of the child’s general behaviour.
This is not an uncommon problem. In the early years it may be critical to understanding the child’s behaviour and health, and as they get older it may be essential to help them understand their past and their birth family.
When the turnover of workers is high (average we’ve heard for DoCS in Oz is about a year, and even in private agencies it runs at about 2 years), and if a child has moved placements a great deal, who on earth has any history for this child?
Oh, that’s right, the system does. (Btw, this is why life story work, however you may do that, is critical for these kids. More on that later.)
So what’s the problem with getting the right information to carers? The case file on a child who comes into your care may:
Why can’t carers see the child’s files, you might ask? We actually don’t think that’s a good idea. There are privacy issues relating to information in there about people other than the child. Carers need to retain some objectivity about birth parents and families. You need a good relationship with them for the child’s sake, and reading what might be a troubled history, that you will make a judgement on, might actually stop you doing that.
What needs to happen is for the files to be reproduced for the carers, with all the facts relevant to the child, but with none of the other stuff.
When the general consensus seems to be that many of our workers are overloaded, it’s not surprising that paperwork isn’t their first priority.
The people to do, what would essentially be a ‘sifting’ job, need to understand privacy, and they need to understand which facts are relevant to the child’s history. So why not find some lawyers, or social workers, who want to work part time? Get them in, make them sign a confidentiality agreement, and get them at it.
We think some rigour needs to be directed at solving these problems. Outsourcing a task is common in business, provided risk and privacy is managed well.
And as the survey shows, there is real risk to the foster family and the child if information is not forthcoming. ‘Flying blind’ can be fun sometimes, but not for a foster carer struggling to understand, manage and care for a small person.
We put the link to this Times Online (UK) article on Twitter, and quickly got a response:
11:25pm, Sep 17 from Web
feeling this first hand
The report came from Fostering Network, which represents 43,000 carers in Britain. A couple of court rulings had opened the door for local authorities to be sued if they didn’t meet their duty of care to foster families.
The statistics were blunt – more than 51% of carers in the UK say that they have been given inadequate information about a child in their care, which has put themselves, their own children and even the foster child at risk. A full 30% weren’t told about the child’s medical requirements, 50% were not informed about a history of abuse, and 75% said that they were not made aware of the child’s general behaviour.
This is not an uncommon problem. In the early years it may be critical to understanding the child’s behaviour and health, and as they get older it may be essential to help them understand their past and their birth family.
When the turnover of workers is high (average we’ve heard for DoCS in Oz is about a year, and even in private agencies it runs at about 2 years), and if a child has moved placements a great deal, who on earth has any history for this child?
Oh, that’s right, the system does. (Btw, this is why life story work, however you may do that, is critical for these kids. More on that later.)
So what’s the problem with getting the right information to carers? The case file on a child who comes into your care may:
- Be very large
- Contain information that is not relevant to the child in your care (for example information about birth family)
- Contain highly sensitive, prejudicial or private information about someone other than your foster child,
- Be very large – oh, we said that.
Why can’t carers see the child’s files, you might ask? We actually don’t think that’s a good idea. There are privacy issues relating to information in there about people other than the child. Carers need to retain some objectivity about birth parents and families. You need a good relationship with them for the child’s sake, and reading what might be a troubled history, that you will make a judgement on, might actually stop you doing that.
What needs to happen is for the files to be reproduced for the carers, with all the facts relevant to the child, but with none of the other stuff.
When the general consensus seems to be that many of our workers are overloaded, it’s not surprising that paperwork isn’t their first priority.
The people to do, what would essentially be a ‘sifting’ job, need to understand privacy, and they need to understand which facts are relevant to the child’s history. So why not find some lawyers, or social workers, who want to work part time? Get them in, make them sign a confidentiality agreement, and get them at it.
We think some rigour needs to be directed at solving these problems. Outsourcing a task is common in business, provided risk and privacy is managed well.
And as the survey shows, there is real risk to the foster family and the child if information is not forthcoming. ‘Flying blind’ can be fun sometimes, but not for a foster carer struggling to understand, manage and care for a small person.
Reporting more detail on children in care?
28/04/2009 17:20
This came from Caroline Overington (#overingtonc) via Twitter. The full article is called The girl in the window, and recounts, in quite astonishing detail, the story of a 9 year old Florida girl.
She was so neglected and abused in her birth family that she now suffers developmental delay of the most extreme, fundamental kind. She has been adopted by a family who are trying to mend what they can. The article discloses a great deal of personal information about the child and her birth family, and a lot of detail on what the child experienced.
It should be compulsory reading for anyone who thinks they have an informed opinion on children’s services.
So, why can’t Overington and other responsible journos report this type of story, at this level of detail, in Australia?
Should we be able to report this type of story at this level of detail?
How can you work to a solution when no one is able to openly discuss the problem?
Can you educate all the people involved when the facts remain hidden?
Can you bring struggling parents to some degree of self-awareness if they never hear other stories they might identify with?
Can you report at this level of detail and still protect people’s privacy, particularly the children’s?
Perhaps it is time for a new approach.
Just today it was reported that ’Australian health and welfare agencies … formed a taskforce to combat increasing numbers of child abuse and neglect, which reached 55,000 cases last year’.
With notifications for alleged child abuse and neglect almost tripling in Australia between 1999 and 2007, the problem isn’t being solved by existing methods.
So maybe the time has come to give some committed, experienced, responsible journos the green light to start reporting.
Is it too easy to consider it ‘someone else’s problem’ if we don’t get too close to it?
More understanding can mean more insecurity
07/01/2009 22:39
It’s a double-edged sword. An older child might be able to articulate what they feel, what they understand, and what they are confused about in their life and their circumstances. That’s great. But with this understanding comes understanding: there will be more questions about their circumstances, and perhaps more insecurity about what it really means. They might make their own judgment about what they want.
So you may suddenly find you have a small person who doesn’t want to see birth family. A small person who doesn’t want to have a ‘birth parent’. A small person who doesn’t want to be different from their friends.
But the ‘system’ or the ‘research’ will tell you it is good for them to know their birth family. That maintaining contact is positive – that they won’t create some fantasy life surrounding birth family. That reality, however relentless, is good.
For once, let’s put ourselves in the shoes of one of these small people.
Imagine this:
You’ve been moved around a lot since you were born. You’re a resilient kid, so on a day-to-day basis, you manage to smile and laugh and make it look like you are OK. So you’ve learned to be very affectionate, very quickly, with any new people you meet. You take whatever gets thrown at you because you’ve learned that’s how you survive. You might still bang your head on the pillow occasionally at night, because that makes you feel better, but no one hears.
You’re a smart kid: you are very tuned in and hyper-aware of what’s going on around you. In many ways you are much older than your years. You are really quite grateful that you’ve arrived at what seems to be a good place – the parents are nice and reasonable and give you a sense that they know how to deal. You try and show how grateful you are. They hug you and tell you that they are happy too, but you’re not sure they really understand how you feel.
But nothing changes over time, and you get to know them better. They are always the same, and you start to cautiously rely on them. And in there somewhere is a funny feeling. You see it in their eyes when they look at you. And you feel it too. You start to really like their hugs and kisses. Their support and approval feels really good. You like school and have some good mates. One day, you begin to hope that this is how it is going to be.
You see your birth family. That’s been fine, up until the last few times when your birth parent started telling you that you were still part of their family and not to forget it. You tried to shrug it off, but birth parent kept telling you every time you saw them. You mentioned it to your foster parents. They said that no one is taking you anywhere. But you’ve had a few nightmares recently where your birth parent came and took you away. You are really not sure that you want to see your birth family at the moment. Maybe you could take a break from them?
Can you imagine that? How would you feel?
Posted by EssentialMum
So you may suddenly find you have a small person who doesn’t want to see birth family. A small person who doesn’t want to have a ‘birth parent’. A small person who doesn’t want to be different from their friends.
But the ‘system’ or the ‘research’ will tell you it is good for them to know their birth family. That maintaining contact is positive – that they won’t create some fantasy life surrounding birth family. That reality, however relentless, is good.
For once, let’s put ourselves in the shoes of one of these small people.
Imagine this:
You’ve been moved around a lot since you were born. You’re a resilient kid, so on a day-to-day basis, you manage to smile and laugh and make it look like you are OK. So you’ve learned to be very affectionate, very quickly, with any new people you meet. You take whatever gets thrown at you because you’ve learned that’s how you survive. You might still bang your head on the pillow occasionally at night, because that makes you feel better, but no one hears.
You’re a smart kid: you are very tuned in and hyper-aware of what’s going on around you. In many ways you are much older than your years. You are really quite grateful that you’ve arrived at what seems to be a good place – the parents are nice and reasonable and give you a sense that they know how to deal. You try and show how grateful you are. They hug you and tell you that they are happy too, but you’re not sure they really understand how you feel.
But nothing changes over time, and you get to know them better. They are always the same, and you start to cautiously rely on them. And in there somewhere is a funny feeling. You see it in their eyes when they look at you. And you feel it too. You start to really like their hugs and kisses. Their support and approval feels really good. You like school and have some good mates. One day, you begin to hope that this is how it is going to be.
You see your birth family. That’s been fine, up until the last few times when your birth parent started telling you that you were still part of their family and not to forget it. You tried to shrug it off, but birth parent kept telling you every time you saw them. You mentioned it to your foster parents. They said that no one is taking you anywhere. But you’ve had a few nightmares recently where your birth parent came and took you away. You are really not sure that you want to see your birth family at the moment. Maybe you could take a break from them?
Can you imagine that? How would you feel?
Posted by EssentialMum
We have a new dog and we don’t know anything about her
01/07/2008 20:37
Dogs don't live as long as we do. Some deserve to live longer than they do, given how loving, and loyal, and friendly, and funny they are. If you are going to be a dog owner for life then you have to learn say farewell to old friends and welcome new ones.
After losing a terrific dog last year we have adopted a new dog. She's two - while we love puppies there are always some lovely older dogs looking for a home. Our male dog came to us at 14 months, bonded beautifully and has been a loving pal for 8 years now.
Our new pup came via a friend. And when she arrived, we realised:
So we’ve developed our understanding of this little dog over the last months. Happy Camper has been delighted to find a real little playmate. Fine for a dog.
So how 'disappointing' (you can insert your own adjective here depending on your viewpoint) to tell you that the experience was pretty much the same with Happy Camper. Despite all the networks and information amassed on these children and their families and their circumstances, we knew next to nothing when she came. We had three visits with the previous carers as part of the handover and asked as many questions as we could in the allotted time, but how do you cover a child's life in a couple of hours?
Here’s how your placement might often commence:
You don't waste time, at that point, making an issue of it.
You start from where you are. You build the child’s life again from the ground up, and as they get older you increase the information about their family and her past.
But it would be good if all those who work with us, care for us and help us, remember that often we have to dive in, terrain unknown, and sort it out as we go along. That takes guts, and skill, and tenacity, and strength.
More information is a blessing. Thanks.
Posted by EssentialMum
After losing a terrific dog last year we have adopted a new dog. She's two - while we love puppies there are always some lovely older dogs looking for a home. Our male dog came to us at 14 months, bonded beautifully and has been a loving pal for 8 years now.
Our new pup came via a friend. And when she arrived, we realised:
- We had no detail about where she lived before.
- We had no information about her previous family, other than that she’d been used to children.
- We had no detail about her day-to-day life, her habits, and her routines.
- We didn’t know what food she liked, what treats were special.
- We had no special toy for her.
- We had no understanding of her experiences – what she was used to, what she handled well, what she was unsettled by.
So we’ve developed our understanding of this little dog over the last months. Happy Camper has been delighted to find a real little playmate. Fine for a dog.
You know where we are going with this one ... don't you?
So how 'disappointing' (you can insert your own adjective here depending on your viewpoint) to tell you that the experience was pretty much the same with Happy Camper. Despite all the networks and information amassed on these children and their families and their circumstances, we knew next to nothing when she came. We had three visits with the previous carers as part of the handover and asked as many questions as we could in the allotted time, but how do you cover a child's life in a couple of hours?
Here’s how your placement might often commence:
- You have the barest detail on the child’s day to day routine.
- You have very few photos of the child.
- You have no ‘when you were small’ stories.
- You have no toys. Often lots of McDonalds giveaways but not one special comfort toy.
- Clothing is poor or non-existent. We’ve seen short term carers view clothes as a communal resource - kept for the next child they care for.
You don't waste time, at that point, making an issue of it.
You start from where you are. You build the child’s life again from the ground up, and as they get older you increase the information about their family and her past.
But it would be good if all those who work with us, care for us and help us, remember that often we have to dive in, terrain unknown, and sort it out as we go along. That takes guts, and skill, and tenacity, and strength.
More information is a blessing. Thanks.
Posted by EssentialMum
Find the humour
11/06/2008 00:11
Happy Camper has no constraints in telling anyone anything. Anything. So we’ve learned to take that into account. It means we are mindful of the level of detail we provide her in relation to some matters.
The current topic is age, and we’ve had a bit of fun with this one. Happy Camper knows exactly how old she is, and tells everyone. For a long time EssentialMum has fobbed her off in response to any age queries with the answer that EssentialMum is 22.
Well, it had to happen. Here’s how the conversation went one afternoon after school:
Happy Camper: Mum, how old are you?
EssentialMum: Old.
Happy Camper: I know, but how old?
EssentialMum: 22.
Happy Camper: My teacher thinks you might be a bit older than that.
EssentialMum: Does she now?
Happy Camper, (thoughtfully): Mmmn. And she knows everything.
EssentialMum: Look, it’s raining. Isn’t that interesting…..
Afterwards, we had a wonderful laugh. And later still, we shared that laughter with her teacher.
So, a couple of reminders worth noting for us:
Find the humour.
You’ll need it, so make sure you take time to treasure the funny things. Make a note of them - write them down. They become a great part of life story work – we have a file called ‘Laughter’ which contains all the funny comments and incidents that have given us a laugh along the way. They also provide us with some reminders for the ‘when you were little’ conversations that children love. And they are sometimes like a small breath of fresh sustaining air when times are tough.
Build the child’s story according to the child’s age.
A wise worker told us that the explanation to a child in care of their birth and childhood was one that would develop and deepen over time – as they grow the level of detail and explanation would increase. We’ve found that works. Children are often, surprisingly, happy with the basics.
So we bow to the inevitable and know that very soon, Happy Camper will learn exactly how old EssentialMum is.
Posted by EssentialMum
The current topic is age, and we’ve had a bit of fun with this one. Happy Camper knows exactly how old she is, and tells everyone. For a long time EssentialMum has fobbed her off in response to any age queries with the answer that EssentialMum is 22.
Well, it had to happen. Here’s how the conversation went one afternoon after school:
Happy Camper: Mum, how old are you?
EssentialMum: Old.
Happy Camper: I know, but how old?
EssentialMum: 22.
Happy Camper: My teacher thinks you might be a bit older than that.
EssentialMum: Does she now?
Happy Camper, (thoughtfully): Mmmn. And she knows everything.
EssentialMum: Look, it’s raining. Isn’t that interesting…..
Afterwards, we had a wonderful laugh. And later still, we shared that laughter with her teacher.
So, a couple of reminders worth noting for us:
Find the humour.
You’ll need it, so make sure you take time to treasure the funny things. Make a note of them - write them down. They become a great part of life story work – we have a file called ‘Laughter’ which contains all the funny comments and incidents that have given us a laugh along the way. They also provide us with some reminders for the ‘when you were little’ conversations that children love. And they are sometimes like a small breath of fresh sustaining air when times are tough.
Build the child’s story according to the child’s age.
A wise worker told us that the explanation to a child in care of their birth and childhood was one that would develop and deepen over time – as they grow the level of detail and explanation would increase. We’ve found that works. Children are often, surprisingly, happy with the basics.
So we bow to the inevitable and know that very soon, Happy Camper will learn exactly how old EssentialMum is.
Posted by EssentialMum