Parenthood of all sorts draws attention. Advice. Criticism.
Fostering is no different. Except there’s a lot more mandated reporters.
When the state has custody of a child, a whole team of professionals surrounds that child. For example, each week our boys see their case worker, biological parents, two separate individual therapists, a behavioral therapist, a family therapist and two tutors. And each month, they see their guardian ad litem, Deputy Juvenile Officer, Court Appointed Special Advocate and psychiatrist.
That’s a lot of caring, involved people. And a lot of social work degrees.
On the other hand, I majored in advertising design and my husband in journalism. Which makes parenting in front of a dozen experts more than intimidating.
And more than a little confusing as the experts often disagree. One focuses on structure and another on encouraging empathy. One tells us to name consequences and another suggests the opposite.
While nearly every idea carries great wisdom and good intentions, they often miss the greater story of all that’s happening under the surface.
For our boys. And for us.
Some days, I don’t need another to do. Or not to do. I need a hug. A “you are doing the best you can and that isn’t terrible.”
And I can only imagine our boys feel the same.