When neighbours become good friends

“I’ll be moving in with a four-year-old,” announced Barbara, my new downstairs neighbour, in one of our first conversations. When it emerged that she was planning to adopt and that I worked for BAAF, we became firm friends as well as close neighbours. Earlier this year, more than three years later, sixyear- old Brian moved into our house – and our lives haven’t been the same since!

I volunteered for a spot of babysitting, as I was sure that Barbara, as a single parent, would sometimes need a break. With earlier experience of looking after my godson and voluntary work in primary schools, I felt I had some knowledge of looking after kids.

Little did I know that this would be scant preparation for the reality of an extremely lively, charming, highly articulate but very controlling and damaged small boy, hurting from the loss of his birth mother, and missing his siblings. And living directly below me!

The very first weekend, Barbara and Brian arrived on my doorstep while she went shopping (which he hates). I took a deep breath and invited him in. We struck up an immediate rapport through listening to music and dancing together, followed by an exploration of the delights of my small flat, ending up in the kitchen boiling eggs (which he loves). Fairly soon after that, I babysat one evening so that Barbara could go out and relax.

Brian was very nervous about being in the flat without Mum, and had a real phobia about locking the front door. Reassuring him that he was safe with me, and phoning Barbara to convince him that she wasn’t far away were very necessary. Perhaps on that occasion or the next, he showed me his life story book and photo albums, beautifully put together by his social worker, who had known him and his family for many years, and his wonderful foster carer, who had prepared him to be adopted.

I felt honoured that he trusted me enough to want to share the details of his life. It is impossible not to be moved by the background details of and although he has been in foster care since he was four, he obviously remembers a lot about his birth family and what happened in their home. He confided that he would really like to live with his birth mum and dad, but is also worried that he is beginning to forget what they look like.

While he and Barbara formed an immediate bond when she went to meet him at his foster carer’s, and they are affectionate and have lots of great times together, he finds it difficult to tell her he loves her, and there is still a dark side to their relationship

This has surfaced in the form of tantrums – over going to bed, over not getting his own way, over wanting things to happen NOW. And also over new experiences and his extreme bossiness, occasional rudeness and a spiteful side to him that neither of us like at all. But once it’s over, it’s as if nothing has happened and most of the time he is lovely. At times Brian behaves as if he’s much older than six; at others, he seems emotionally immature and behaves like a terrible two. He knows that managing his anger is a problem, and is looking forward to help from a ‘special doctor’. Both mother and son have already had a couple of sessions with an NHS counsellor, arranged through Brian’s social worker, and these should continue after the summer holidays.

Brian’s brain is constantly buzzing – “Do you believe in God?” he suddenly asked me from under the table recently. He has boundless energy and finds it difficult to entertain himself for any length of time. Barbara has tried many strategies to deal with the less desirable aspects of his behaviour, sometimes with humour, though he can’t stand the thought of being laughed at. When asked why he behaves like this, Brian replies: “You know why, it’s because I miss my mum.” Barbara manages not to take this to heart and always tells him that she loves him and wants to have him living with her, whatever.

Barbara and I have had many cups of coffee together, after he’s gone to bed, discussing the day – what’s happened and what she’s learnt. She also tells me what she’s read, conversations with his and her social workers, advice from other parents including through the American website on adopting older children (www.olderchildadoption.com). We discuss the special nature of the adoptive situation – not for the fainthearted, I hear myself saying!

She also tells me about small triumphs: Brian getting into the swimming pool and putting his head under water; Brian learning to rollerblade, and wanting to learn to play the violin, as she already does; Brian joining a Beaver group and camping out overnight. But he is still shy of new experiences and still prefers the company of adults to children his own age. He has settled happily into his new school and is beginning to make friends. We talk about building his self-esteem. “Have you read BAAF’s book Promoting Resilience?” I ask. “Only seven times!” Barbara retorts with a laugh.

I am very fond of Brian and he seems to be very keen to spend time with me. At times, he seems confused as to my exact role. While it has been nice that he has wanted to give me little things that he has made, including a Mother’s Day card, I will feel happier when he spontaneously gives these little offerings to Barbara. He recently asked me if he could call me Mum but, as always, I remind him that Barbara is his mother.

We explain that I’m more like an auntie, or a godmother, who can give ‘quality time’ in short bursts – very different from how it would be if he were living all the time with me! We know that children often play parent figures off against each other, so it’s fortunate Barbara and I have an easy and mutually supportive relationship.

Barbara has grown to love Brian greatly, and I think shows amazing patience. We tell each other that we must be “much firmer”, and discuss the importance of boundaries – and her not giving in to bad behaviour. I now realise that when he’s feeling cross with her, the idea of living with me becomes attractive, and he’d be visiting every day if he could. While I’m glad that she restrains him from over-burdening me, I feel I am something of a safety valve for them both.

Early on, Barbara realised that Brian really didn’t really know what good mothers actually did – things like having a cuddle in bed in the morning, or offering guidance, or administering discipline. She found she had to rapidly learn to play many roles – mum, playmate, teacher – and still fit in the ironing!

One big issue remains: Brian is reluctant to go both to bed and to sleep. We have had many discussions about this, and Barbara has tried numerous strategies. Currently, they have a star chart with financial incentives, which is helping, as are the books, Bible stories and prayers, which they read together.

At the point of writing, it’s possible to see how far Brian and Barbara have come in six months – he’s outgrown all the clothes he arrived with, and weighs tons more for one thing. He seems to be feeling more secure, and this may be allowing him to show more of his inner feelings, resulting in some bad times, which Barbara seems able to deal with. For example, recently, I was pretty alarmed to be woken very early one morning by roars from below, and wondered what I should do – if anything! It turned out he had woken Barbara at 5.30am, demanding a cuddle in an aggressive way, but she had refused to give in to bullying behaviour. Her calm refusal on these occasions drives him mad – until the storm has run its course, and they can resume effective communication.

Involving myself with Barbara and Brian has turned out to be a much closer relationship than I could ever have foreseen. I feel I have become an essential part of their support network, and have come to appreciate just how necessary this is, as they work out their relationship with each other.

After all the interviewing, assessment and training that preceded the actual linking, I have seen at first hand just how courageous a child, particularly an older one, needs to be in taking on a new family. Brian’s adoption panel felt that Barbara was the right mother for him and would be strong enough to handle him. She is – but every day brings new challenges.

Barbara and Brian are not their real names.

Originally published in the Be My Parent newspaper in September 2004.

This article is published with the kind permission of the people involved. You may download it for your own reference but if you wish to use it for any other purpose, please contact Be My Parent for authorisation: Be My Parent, BAAF, Saffron House, 6-10 Kirby Street, London EC1N 8TS. Telephone: 020 7421 2666/5/4.

Last updated: 14 August 07

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