I’m not Scouse and neither is my wife.
We’ve lived in the People’s Republic of Liverpool for over 30 years but we’re not yet local. Our kids were born here, went to school here, grew up here but will occasionally throw in a southern sounding vowel.
Our nearest blood relative lives 3 hours away, and that’s only if the M6 is clear.
When we applied to foster, we had to show we had a support network of family and friends. We chose a friend from work, a family from our Church, and friends we met when our own kids went to a local playgroup. Without their practical and emotional help, we’d have given up. They have baby sat, offered sleep overs, provided emergency Lego, and lent us their dog. They have taken children on day trips, remembered their birthdays, and become ‘trusted adults’.
A child who has inevitably had many adverse experiences, not least the terror of separation, needs to know who is safe and who is not. We’ve always kept the social circle of a child pretty tight and compact, but having some sort of community is still vital for all concerned.
Although further afield, our families have always been accepting and welcoming of the children we’ve cared for. They’ve also been willing to learn, just as we have.
Our Boomer parents, born and raised in more traditional times, quickly grasped that traditional parenting styles only led to an escalation in anger and carnage.
‘Clear your plate’, ‘sit up straight’, ‘do as you’re told’ and any other standard mantra from the 1970s have all been discarded.
Fostering and adoption is a family and friends business.
Fostering and adopting with phil 