It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. For those of you who were following my family’s journey into foster care, you’ll know that we were approved as foster carers at the end of April this year, and I’ve been indulging in a little radio silence since then.
It’s a beautiful, sunny Wednesday morning. We’re suited and booted and on our way to panel to be approved as foster carers. We’re meeting Stef (our Form F assessor) at a café near to where the panel is taking place, to have a little run through the potential questions we can expect.
As someone who has served on the panel, I have a view on the questions I might have asked us if the roles were reversed. And I have a plan.
It’s Friday evening. In the dining room there are four very noisy, very excited boys getting stuck into their sleepover fun. They are shrieking at each other, their mouths open to reveal half masticated hotdog as they discuss the merits of the caterpillar game (a pursuit involving sleeping bags and a staircase). I wonder whether it was such a great idea to suggest tonight as the night to sign off our Form F assessment with our assessor Stef. But anyway it’s too late; Stef arrives at the peak of the children’s excitement.
Today we had our last information gathering session with Stef, our assessor. Next week she’ll have the first draft of the Form F for us to look at and comment on. It feels like we’re coming to the end of something, but I know that it is in fact the start line we’re approaching. There is a huge blank canvas stretching before us and I am at once excited and terrified.