The Five Little Ducks Blog

Lately, I have been mentally compiling a list of all the things that I wish I had known before I had become a kinship carer. Perhaps this list may be of some assistance to someone contemplating fostering? Please note that this list is specific to my family’s situation, and I am aware that some categories may be relevant to regular parenting.

1. You aren’t as special as you think you are

I knew that becoming a foster carer to two children who had bounced through the system since infancy was going to be full of challenges. I read books about ‘parenting children with attachment trauma’. The problem is that I had this baseless self-confidence in my own parenting magnificence, I just knew that there was something special and strong within myself that was going to blossom as I handled each challenge with humour and grace

and that by the end of the allotted “first two years are the hardest” that all would be well in our Brady Bunch home… imagine how purposeful life would be as a foster carer, compared to just being a regular old boring mum!

I could not have been more wrong. I am irritable, flawed, and a sinner to the core. I am not Maria Von Trapp, singing her way through every complication and smiling all day. I am the Wicked Stepmother, frowning and shouting and commanding children to clean up!

Don’t foster because you think it will make you feel good. Foster because you have the space in your heart and the time in your life for some kids who have had a rough start and who deserve a safe home and a stable childhood.

  2) Don’t compare them to your kids

It is not advisable to foster children who are close in age to your own. Don’t do it.

They should be significantly younger than your biological children so as not to upset the birth order in your home and to give your original kids space to be themselves. Throwing two sets of similar aged kids into one mixing bowl makes for a lot of tension and rivalry. Not only will there be competitiveness between them, you will find yourself comparing them all the time. They are the same age. Why is this one toilet trained and this one is not? That one can’t sit still for longer than thirty seconds. Why is this one’s speech so much better than that one’s? This one has a much brighter imagination. Why is this one better than that one at listening? Why is this one more stubborn than that one? Why is this one is better than that one at cleaning up and trying new foods and doing as they are told?

When I look back, I know that some of the issues I had with certain children stemmed from my constant comparison of the children.

Kids are quirky. Kids are individuals. Pitting them against each other isn’t healthy for anyone. They will grow and develop at their own rates. I imagine that if I had become a carer when my children were much older that I might have had the maturity and life experience to know not to compare the kids in my care to my own children, and to just allow them to be themselves.

3) They will need a lot

Kids in care are mostly just regular kids who need the things that all kids need to grow and thrive. They need to be listened to, to be seen and noticed, to be praised, to be loved, to be taught right from wrong, and to have firm boundaries in place around them. These are all normal things. But they need a lot more of these things. They want to be listened to more, seen and noticed more, praised more, loved more, and they will probably need constant guidance, correction and boundaries. They will break a lot of rules. It can be really hard for these kids to “just be”, they will probably struggle to entertain themselves, they will fight a lot with their siblings, and you will feel like you are constantly putting out fires because they cannot go for five minutes without stepping on someone, snatching another’s things or hurting somebody’s feelings. They will fill the air with inane chatter just because they find silence uncomfortable, and they will constantly ask for validation. They will argue more and talk back more. They will fight for every little choice, because when you don’t get to choose whether you can live with your mum and dad, each choice is an act of assertion in an otherwise chaotic and powerless life; the food they eat, the clothes they wear, the way they do their hair.

It is a roller coaster, and you need to get used to it.

They will tell you they love you twelve times in the space of an hour, following you from room to room, and in the same day; curse you and your family and your stupid house, and wish that they could live with their real mum and dad.

4) Hug them

Hug them, hug them, hug them.

Hug them when you wake up (they will probably wake before you) and hug them before they go to school. Hug them when you pass them in the hallway, and hug them when you collect them from school. Hug them when they show you the scratch on their arm, hug them when they complain about their sister. Hug them after an argument. Hug them when they tell the truth. Hug them before they go to bed, then hug them the two times they sneak out of bed to hug you. Kiss them on the head, scratch their back, look them in the eye, dance with them, smile when they do something nice for you, laugh at their jokes.

You probably won’t feel like it. But do it anyway.

I have stuffed up big time in this department. But I am trying to do better now.

5) Get used to repeating yourself

You will tell them to pick up after themselves countless times, to put their dirty socks and undies in the wash, to pack up their colouring pencils, to put their toys away, to brush their teeth, to wash their hands and stop picking their noses… you will say these things again and again in the vain hope that they will somehow become self-sufficient and then the next day you will say it all again. Get used to it.

6) You need to deal with your issues

I have often written about how becoming a carer made me realise that I am not as pure-hearted or patient as I thought I was. It turns out that I actually have a pretty hot temper, and I am triggered by kids being rude to me. I am easily offended, and clearly have some issues to do with rejection.

I see a counsellor to help me sort through my ‘stuff’, to shift my thinking and develop coping strategies, and I also have ‘accountability’ conversations with my sister.

It is my job to be the adult, to not sink to a child’s level, to be the calm during their crazy.

I need to behave like the adult that I want them to become and be aware of the example that I am setting.

Many of us have issues which stem from our childhoods, from watching our parents’ marriages, or from our interactions in the playground. These issues spill over into our own parenting and brushing them under the carpet is not a long-term solution.

Get help.

7) Your kids are going to hurt

Prior to becoming a carer, I never truly imagined the impact that fostering would have on my biological children. I knew that I was adding to my family, and I knew that a heart could grow to include love for more children, the way it does when you have a new baby. I did not realise that I was taking something away from my children; their home, their parents, their peace and stability.

Being in a blended family can be really hard work, not just for the parents, but also for the kids. There is a lot of drama in our home, and the stress is not easy to take for anyone.

It breaks my heart when my two eldest biological children sob in my arms, begging me to send their foster sisters away. Mr E mourns his early childhood; life before chronic stress and constant fighting. It would have been hard for him to watch me change from his young hippie mama to the tired, cranky mum that I became in order to survive. More and more I have noticed my son become anxious and depressed, retreating from family life and withdrawing into his own world, often hiding in his bedroom. “This was my home first,” he says sometimes, and his thoughts towards his foster sisters have become increasingly aggressive. “The next time she says something bad about you,” he told me once, “I’m going to punch her.” Recently he has been expressing suicidal thoughts. It breaks my heart to hear my 8-year-old son say that he doesn’t want to live anymore, to see him feeling hopeless and in absolute distress.

I recently learned about the concept of “secondary trauma stress”, which is where people exposed to traumatised people can be affected. Apparently, children in fostering families can be quite susceptible to this stress due to their inability to understand the situation and their constant exposure. When I read the following “Signs of Secondary Trauma” from https://foster2forever.com/2016/07/secondary-trauma-in-children.html, I felt sad, as I recognised these symptoms in my children, especially Mr E.

Signs of Secondary Trauma

Emotional Indicators: anger, sadness, anxiety

Physical Indicators: headaches, tummy aches, constipation

Personal Indicators: cynicism, irritability with family members

Mr E has recently started seeing a psychologist for emotional support.

8) Have respite frequently

I never planned to send my foster daughters into respite care. They were going to be a firm part of our family; I didn’t want to make them feel different.

As my mental health plummeted in the first year of our placement, we found a respite carer who loved taking the girls and spoiling them with a good time.

The purpose of respite care is to allow my children to have some quality time with my husband and myself, and to give us a break from all the fighting. The time goes by quickly, I must say. We get a glimpse of what our lives could have been like, had we not become carers. It is usually quite peaceful, but it is not perfect. I am glad that it is not perfect. I see how when the girls are away, Mr E and Miss R find reasons to have little squabbles and to be a normal brother and sister (rather than clinging together quietly just to weather the storm) and to act out a little. I think that they feel the pressure to behave very well when the girls are around because they can see the stress that my husband and I are under and they don’t want to add to our troubles.

I feel a little sad though when I see Mr E relaxed and engaging in family life when Miss A and Miss L are in respite care, because it doesn’t seem right that he feels excluded from his own family and his main coping mechanism is retreating into his room to hide or not going to family events.

9) Embrace playful moments

Children love it when you enter their playful world.

In the parenting courses, “special play” or “child-led play” are the supposed answers to all our woes. These are highly structured forms of play, usually involving a ten-minute timer, one on one child/parent interaction and the parent narrating the child’s actions while mirroring their play and praising them constantly. Personally, I kind of hate it. I have a large family, so I don’t have time to spend ten minutes with each of them, narrating their movements in a strange positive robot voice: “I like how you gently placed the blue block on top of the red block. You have good ideas. I’m going to do that too.” Ugh….

Embrace playful moments.

Drive the car while doing a pirate voice, build a Lego space ship together because you are suddenly alone together, say yes to playing Barbies or babies, drink the fake cup of tea and buy the invisible ice cream cone with leaf currency at the playground, make up a silly song about going to the toilet, colour in the picture with them, help them finish the puzzle.

When I say yes to being playful with my kids, they absolutely adore it, and if I put on a silly voice to make something mundane interesting, they kind of lose it! It’s like I’m a comedian.

I don’t have a set time for playing with my kids. There is so much to be done in the house and with the family, but it is nice when I can grab a moment for some connection.

10) Don’t feel guilty for not playing with them

You can’t say yes to play all the time, and often, I say no; I’m about to put the washing on the line, or change the baby or cook dinner…

To be honest, I don’t always want to play. I am an adult and playing with toys isn’t as fun for me as it was over twenty years ago. There is a lot of pressure on parents these days to play with their kids, to be really present with their kids, and to love every minute of it. But we can’t all be Bluey’s mum and dad! (As much as I love those rapscallion pups)

In the wise words of my bestie, “it’s not my job to live their childhood for them.” These words really resonated with me and helped to alleviate the guilt I felt about not playing enough with my children. We have had many discussions about how we feel that it is our role to be facilitators for their happy childhood. We provide everything that they need; food, shelter, love, guidance and more. But play? Learning to entertain themselves? That is up to them. We give them the space that they need to create their own games and adventures. When I look back at my childhood, my mother was very present and always there for us, but she didn’t spend all day playing with us. She was cooking and ironing and watching on, listening and loving, spending time with her parents and friends, being our champion. She got cranky at times and shouted at us. I never doubted for a moment that she loved me.

For millennia, mothers have yelled at their kids, forced them to help out around the place and told them to go play outside. They survived! (The ones who didn’t catch bubonic plague from playing near the sewers, that is) Heck, its only a recent thing that most of us here in the developed world have enough to eat. You are doing a good enough job.

 

11) Pick your battles

Your foster children will pick many battles (see paragraph about hair, shoes, food, toys, etc). Whether you choose to meet them in battle is up to you.

I remember seeing a post on Facebook once which read “Pick your battles. Nope, that’s still too many battles. Put some back.”

I have been guilty of storming into every little skirmish with the whole cavalry, and it honestly is not worth it.

Recently I have started cutting the crusts off sandwiches for Miss A and Miss L because less food is wasted this way rather than them only taking one bite from the sandwich. Apparently, I can use all of the leftover crusts to make breadcrumbs? Chicken stuffing, here I come.

We are also letting the children watching TV on Saturday mornings and in the school holidays before we get up. I have such high expectations of children being able to peacefully entertain themselves and my idealism isn’t worth being woken up by the shrill screams of fighting children.

Children are not robots which we can program to meet our own expectations and standards.

They will disagree with you and rebel against your rules. You need to learn when to take a stand (eg, horrible name calling, physical violence) and when to do like Elsa and “Let It Go” (eg, they rolled their eyes at you, or didn’t like your cooking).

You will not win the war if you burn out fighting too many battles.

 

12) Take a breath and walk away…then come back

While you are learning to not take offence at every opportunity, to control your emotions and “be the grown-up” the easiest way to let it go is to breathe deep and leave the room. Put yourself in a time-out if you must. You do not have to speak aloud every thought that crosses your mind, you do not have to dole out the massive consequence that you cannot follow through with, and you cannot always get involved. I often find that if I just give myself 5 minutes to calm down, then I am more likely to respond with wisdom and patience, and less likely to react in anger.

Modern parenting programs promote the idea of “time-in” over “time-out”, meaning that you sit with kids or hold them through their hard emotions and conflicts because it is apparently traumatising to isolate them or send them to their room for a few minutes. There is a time and place to hug children when they are in emotional distress, but personally, if a child has really done the wrong thing and hurt someone, I think they will be OK by themselves for a short time. I will continue to walk past them and ask if they are ready to talk, and I will see a visible change when they are ready. We talk it out and when the conflict is resolved we can have a hug.

Parents are not robots either, who can always say the right thing and respond perfectly to a situation. I think it is ok for children to see that their actions and words have an impact on others, and that we need to calm down too. We make mistakes also; we need to humble ourselves and apologise. Healthy communication is learned. Recognising your own capacity is important.

 

13) Attachment trauma is real

Children who have experienced abuse, neglect, removal from their biological parents and disrupted placements are so impacted by this trauma that their brains develop differently to children who have only experience healthy attachments and stability. Attachment trauma manifests itself differently in different children, and at different times in their lifespans. Some kids seem always primed for a fight or flight response, even when there are no threats present. Some children are overly affectionate while some children do not like to be touched. Other kids self-sabotage relationships and placements, they might keep utilising “survival skills” like lying or stealing. They might have tantrums well beyond the developmentally appropriate age and regularly damage property. Some kids are overly compliant and try too hard to please their parental figures or peers, others lash out and are oppositional towards authority. They will pull you in for connection then push you away. The list goes on. The supposed cure for this trauma is a stable and loving upbringing in a safe environment.

I underestimated the impact of living with kids who are suffering with attachment trauma damage and did not realise how it would affect my mental health, my biological children, my husband and even my extended family.

Love is not enough.

Caring for these kids is an all-consuming occupation. The burn out rate is high. It is not a sprint, but a marathon, and it might even be a relay, involving passing the baton to specialists, teachers, friends and other carers. It might take affected children years into their adulthood to come to terms with living with the impact of attachment trauma. You cannot expect to “fix” these kids. As I read recently, you can take the child out of the trauma, but you cannot take the trauma out of the child. You will take steps forward and be excited by this progress then backtrack when there is regression and wonder how to keep going.

You need to go into this journey with your eyes wide open and not expect it to be like a production of Annie.

There you have it, thirteen lessons which I have learned since I became a kinship carer over four years ago, and that I wish I had known before we made the gigantic life decision to become carers.