James (name changed) had a great week and was happy with school. He’d made a couple of mates and had been asked to try out for the football team. Obviously school was a very different place to be, compared to normality, due to the Covid situation.
I had put all sorts of precautions in at home, from hand-wash in the hall to having a box of masks at home and in the car. I’d bought latex gloves to use for taking the rubbish out and had ensured that all the Government protocol was followed by James and me. My agency had been excellent with lots of tips and reminders of what we needed to do. The school had provided lots on information but it was quite confusing and, in some cases, actually contradicted itself.
The weekend consisted of James popping out to see his new mates. He asked if they could come back, which I agreed to, and I was introduced to them. They seem like nice kids. So I was left to my own devices for most of Saturday, which was fun but strange after a few weeks of just James and me. But I was delighted that he had made some friends and that he could do normal kid’s stuff rather than being bored with yours truly.
So I got all the washing done, stripped James’ bed and basically did the domestic god stuff. I updated my fostering diary, sorted out James’ allowance and put some money in his savings account. I had a nice email from my contact at the school stating how James had settled in well and appeared bright and willing to learn. I caught up with James in the evening over dinner and he was happy with the world.
He told me that he had a number of missed calls from Mum but he was ignoring them. Mum had left messages for him but he had deleted them and was thinking of blocking her number. I suggested he didn’t as there could be an emergency and also the fact that he would need to have some kind of contact with her as time went on.
There had been talk of Mum going through some kind of rehabilitation course and if she succeeded then there is no doubt that James would return home, but I didn’t tell him that.
So Sunday I had booked a Toby Carvery and we left about 12:30. For James it was another new experience and he pretty much ate his body weight in roast dinner.
We then went for a wander around Bluewater shopping centre as James had some money burning in his pocket. We got home about 4 and watched a bit of the Grand Prix and James went off to sort his stuff for Monday.
He was sent off to bed at 10 and I sat and reflected on a busy but fun weekend. I checked my diary for the week and there was nothing, no meetings, no reports needed, absolutely blank.
So I went to bed with a clear mind and with nothing to organise other than James and I.
A Blogging Foster Carer’s Diary.