Well, it happened. Social workers endlessly drilling the word 'foster' into their minds finally sunk in and Jane began using the word.
It's not necessarily bad or a secret. I just don't like them learning a label for themselves if it makes them feel different or bad about themselves. I'd just as soon they transition from daughter in one family to daughter in another family. Not saying that'll be easier, per se...but I do think it's more accurate when describing their life journey.
So, today the girls are playing and I realize Jane has decided one of her stuffed animals is "Foster Baby". The baby has to be quickly removed from one place (the couch) and put in a safe place (a box). Over and over again.
She seems like she wants to act this out but is kinda stuck on what to do next so I decide to engage with her so I can help give language to whatever she's processing. Together she and I move the foster baby through a series of harrowing events: being lost, being hungry, sneaking food, being naughty by breaking things and then getting hit. Each of these events is repeated many, many times. I suggested the first one (being lost) but then she suggested all the others.
It was incredibly difficult for me to watch both girls avidly acting out the getting hit part as they were physically striking the stuffed bear with all their force. I finally transitioned them to a different task (comforting baby) because I felt they were stuck there and couldn't move on.
When the play began winding down she placed the baby in my arms and instructed me to hold it. Then she brought me, one by one and after much thought, all the things the baby needed to feel better: blanket, pillow, medicine, bandaids, and finally, a sticker to feel happy.
This whole play event took at least 20 minutes. I was emotionally exhausted by the end. The girls, though, clearly felt better. They beamed up at me while I cuddled the swaddled bear and held its assortment of pretend bandaids and medicine.
I can only describe their look as: approval. So I guess Foster Baby is safe and sound. Phew.
It's not necessarily bad or a secret. I just don't like them learning a label for themselves if it makes them feel different or bad about themselves. I'd just as soon they transition from daughter in one family to daughter in another family. Not saying that'll be easier, per se...but I do think it's more accurate when describing their life journey.
So, today the girls are playing and I realize Jane has decided one of her stuffed animals is "Foster Baby". The baby has to be quickly removed from one place (the couch) and put in a safe place (a box). Over and over again.
She seems like she wants to act this out but is kinda stuck on what to do next so I decide to engage with her so I can help give language to whatever she's processing. Together she and I move the foster baby through a series of harrowing events: being lost, being hungry, sneaking food, being naughty by breaking things and then getting hit. Each of these events is repeated many, many times. I suggested the first one (being lost) but then she suggested all the others.
It was incredibly difficult for me to watch both girls avidly acting out the getting hit part as they were physically striking the stuffed bear with all their force. I finally transitioned them to a different task (comforting baby) because I felt they were stuck there and couldn't move on.
When the play began winding down she placed the baby in my arms and instructed me to hold it. Then she brought me, one by one and after much thought, all the things the baby needed to feel better: blanket, pillow, medicine, bandaids, and finally, a sticker to feel happy.
This whole play event took at least 20 minutes. I was emotionally exhausted by the end. The girls, though, clearly felt better. They beamed up at me while I cuddled the swaddled bear and held its assortment of pretend bandaids and medicine.
I can only describe their look as: approval. So I guess Foster Baby is safe and sound. Phew.
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