Some words of advice to my 13 year old self...

So I'm now twenty-three...
Which means I was thirteen, ten years ago...
2006 to be precise.
Which is scary because when someone says 2006, I think five years ago.
TEN?!!
Anyway now I am a wise and mature woman of twenty-three, I feel like there are some words of wisdom I would like to give to my thirteen year old self...
Not entirely possible, if you want to be awkward.
But just go along with it, 'kay?

*Ahem*

1) - Make-up, seriously. I'm sorry. Someone has to tell you. (And you don't listen to your mother when she does.) It's too much. I like the colour blue. In fact, I have a bit of a blue theme going on in my bedroom at the moment. But I like blue on things. Not your face.
Things that are a big no:
- Blue Eyeliner (In ten years time you'll be off to a Butlins eighties weekend, save it for that okay?
- Blue mascara (See above)
- Blue Barry M glitter dust Eyeshadow..(Again, see above...)
- White Eyeshadow...
- Turquoise Eyeshadow
- White Eyeshadow blending in (badly) to turquoise eyeshadow
- Dark brown lipgloss
Seriously, I get what you are trying to do, but it's too much for school and quite frankly you look ridiculous.

2) Going around town with a big group of friends. Cool. Being loud and obnoxious. Not cool. No one else thinks you are funny apart from you. If you're getting dirty looks from people, don't laugh at them. You probably deserve it. You're being annoying and older people quite frankly think you are a bit uncool and ridiculous in your 'gang'. Please don't make this worse with an MSN status saying 'Gr8 day in Wurvinn wiv ma galz and boyz' - It's Worthing, not Wurvinn. And you can just refer to them as friends. No need to sound stupid.

3) While we are on the topic of being in town. I get it. You're 13. You've gone down to Rustington with ya best mate Charlotte Quinney for a 'Girly shop' with a tenner in your pocket. You're going to go into Superdrug to buy some make up, because that's what cool grown up girls, who are out on a girly shop do. But don't be that young irritating teenager, who uses testers all over their face in the completely wrong colours, opens things they are never going to buy and who probably lobs things back wherever. The cosmetics lady is watching you. And she dislikes you. Stick to your Miss Sporty, slightly too dark foundation and be done. Maybe buy a face mask for good measure, thats okay. (Just no blue eyeshadow)

4) MSN - Again...Iget it. It's the key social thing. It's where you go to spend your evening talking to all the people you've spent the last seven hours with at school. Except this time you have a funky name and an arty picture to hide behind. Much cooler. Please, please think about your email address. Eventually you are going to make a CV and get a job.
This will be when you realise that x-Sugar-Tinted-Kisses-x@hotmail.co.uk does not work in making you look like a sensible person who is worthy of a sensible job. People will laugh at you. You'll have to change it to something really boring like TasminRhianne93.
So if you want to have a funky email address alongside your friends: Sxc_Chica123 and BubblyBrunette123 (muhahaha) that's FINE. Just be prepared to change it.
(Also don't have cringey names like 'Da risin, sun can kiss da grass but hunni u can kiss my ass :P' - you sound like an utter din and you will be punching yourself in the face every time you remember it for years to come.)

5) Go to a house party. Have an amazing time. You'll love it. Dance to music and drink WKD and Bacardi breezers until your heart's content. But just some gentle information. You cannot possibly be drunk on 2 bacardi breezers. You might think you are. Rolling round the floor laughing. But really, you're not. However all your friends will be thinking they are drunk as well, so you will be all bouncing off each other in a hysterical, 'drunken' mess. Which is fine. it's good fun. But what I'm saying is being drunk doesn't always feel that fun. It does when you're in the zone. But as soon as you peak and you're in a taxi home clutching on to an empty garlic bread bag from kens kebab shop, doing some serious heavy breathing because you feel like you're going to projectile all over the taxi, it's no longer fun...But don't worry, you'll soon learn when enough is enough (Hopefully by the time you're 33....)

6) You may now for your 10.15 AM. snack at school buy a cheeseburger and a packet of crisps (HOW IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED?!) as a tasty mid-morning snack. But seriously, when you're older. You can't do that. And you wont want to either. Just have a nice breakfast biscuit and a cuppa tea (You'll suddenly realise you like tea aged about 17..) - You'll suddenly reach a point where you start caring about what you eat. You'll feel a bit guilty about eating tooooo much junk food and if you do eat a lot of junk food in a day, you'll end up eating an apple before you go to bed so you feel like you've eaten something healthy...
The only time it will be acceptable to eat in this way, is when you have PMS. Then just to save your own sanity and for the safety of people around you, YOU EAT WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT OKAY?!
Also, whilst we're on that subject, I'm sorry to embarrass you but it's aaaaalllllll natural... Please don't worry about the fact that all your friends have started that particular journey, whilst you are trailing behind, listening to their conversations and not knowing whether to be jealous or horrified.
When they say you are lucky, they mean it.  You will get your turn in time. And then you will do very odd things like eat chocolate for breakfast and then cry because none of your clothes feel right.
You'll also have have a monthly existential crisis, question every single aspect of your life..and do weird things like cry at dog food adverts. (You may also be shocked at the number of violent thoughts you can have in a day)...

(Also I wouldn't boast too much about the fact you never get spots, because that totally becomes a thing.)
That is all.

Finaaaaaaaalllllllly:

7) You've probably come across them already, you'll come across some more. School is full of utter twats. People who will do whatever they can to make you feel crap about yourself.
They are RELENTLESS.
They're going to tease you about having big eyes.
(What an idiot, fancy making the choice to have SUCH BIG EYES)
There'll be several names. Fish....Frog.....Hammer-Head Shark...Duck Face...
Bit of a theme, but don't be tempted to pop down to the nearest Sea-Life centre and ask if they have any tanks free for you to rent out for the paying publics viewing please. - just rise above it.
It's hard and at times you will want to retaliate/cry in their faces.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiise above it.
Seriously mush, in ten years time, you're going to be using Eyeliner, Mascara and Fake eyelashes to make your eyes look EVEN BIGGER. Just as a masive F UUUUUUUUUUUUUU to them.
Your big eyes are fine. (Unless you smother them in blue eyeshadow, then we have a major problem.)
Work 'em!
Just be confident, say what you think (WITHIN REASON) and stick up for yourself.
In time, you'll learn from it.


So yes,
There we go.
Ahhh, teenage life.
How I miss it.
|Not.
(Though I do miss the cheaper train tickets and the whole not having to work thing.
That was nice.)

xx

Being a foster sister

Around about the time I turned sixteen, my Mum developed Empty-nest syndrome, so for her 40th birthday, my Auntie bought her a Rabbit, Wilbur.

When it continued, we got Wilbur a friend, Nellie.

A couple of years later and with the old empty nest kicking in again, we got a puppy, Doris.

And when two Rabbits, two Guinea-Pigs and a puppy called Doris wasn't enough,

Mum and her partner Rob, became foster carers.

And that's where my life got a bit crazy.

I'm technically an only child, my parents divorced when I was two (it was just one of those sad things that happened, however I am so grateful to them both for forever remaining amicable, and supportive of one another in their role as parents, between the two of them, although separated I could not have asked for a happier upbringing). My Dad met my Step-Mum Liz when I was eight, which means I have grown up with two step-brothers, one five years younger, one eight months older. I've always enjoyed spending time with them (well most of the time muhahahaha), I've always had a laugh with them and despite the fact they use to (and probably still could!) wind me up to the point of tears with the teasing and the prodding and the random headlocks and wrestling sessions, I always enjoyed their company (It's definitely toughened me up a bit too, and made me sharper with my words and comebacks....when you aren't tough enough to physically win a fight, you learn to rely on sharp words instead!) So, I always felt I had the best of both worlds, I got to be a sister and enjoy the chaos of it all, but I also got to have time at home, just me and my mum doing our own thing. 

This is way back in the day when it was just the two of us, we lived in our little two bedroom house, we'd watch TV together, sit in amicable silence and read, go for walks and have fish and chips by the river, I'd play out the front of the house (there were loads of us kids who all use to play out the front together for hours on end), or we'd go around my Aunties and I'd play with my three cousins, just general, content happy times. 

Fast forward thirteen years later. I've had three days of earlies at work which means three days of five forty five starts, but today I'm not at work until eleven, I have an alarm set for nine forty-five, this is where the phrase 'Wishful thinking' should be used. 

A small boy sibling type is in the shower, the bathroom is next to my bedroom. All I can hear is water running "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK, SLOSH. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK, SLOSH. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK, SLOSH.", as he slides himself up and down the bath, creating tidal waves and generally having a great time. 

I look at the time, ten to eight. "for FUCK sake."

I probably shouldn't care, but I do. I'm annoyed. 

Really, really annoyed.

Both boys have been told about being quiet in the mornings. Not that they aren't allowed to talk, or have a laugh, or have fun, but they've always been taught to be "Considerate" for example:

"Tasmin hasn't got to be up for work early today, so when you go upstairs and get dressed, remember she will still be asleep, so try not to sing or shout down the stairs, or yell at each other or beat each other up right outside her bedroom door okay?"

I'm not feeling that there is much consideration going on this morning.

Sigh.

Sometimes, I really struggle being a foster sister, and I mean really struggle.

I was never one of those teenagers to shut herself away in her room for hours and hours on end...but now, my bedroom is my safe place, as soon as it all gets too much, I just come upstairs, flop on my bed and take sometime out for myself. 

When you have foster children living with you, it's not just as simple as getting a ready made little siblings. These children come into your home, they are old enough to already have their own quirks, their own set ways, their own opinions and depending on their backgrounds some severe struggles, both emotional and task-based. 

You don't realise until you hear some cases of foster children, just how much your childhood can affect who you are as a person and how you grow up to be. This means you can get children as young as two/three years old who show signs of difficult, or destructive behaviour, because as babies they did not have someone to form a secure, emotional bond with - It's all very complicated. 

(I'm trying to explain things as tactfully as possible, however there are still areas of it, that I am not even close to understanding yet, so bear with!!)

\So, as it stands, I currently have two little foster brothers, O + T, they are 7 and 8 years old, and a younger foster sister J who is 15.

O + T are a long term placement, this means that they will be with us until they are at least 18, they have been with us for three years almost. Because they have been with us so long, and will be with us for much, much longer, I tend to refer to them in conversations as "my little Brothers", unless it is on Facebook, where they are 'Biggest small sibling type" and "Smallest small sibling type"

Our once peaceful lives have suddenly become a blur of activity, they have football practise, birthday parties, Beavers, Scouts, one thing after another. They seem to create endless piles of washing and they never run out of questions, or silly comments, or silly noises, or arguments to have with one another. 

Sometimes, trying to get a word in edgeways to have a simple conversation with my mum is impossible, because we will be interrupted by a question or hearing an argument or general chit chat, sometimes we can talk over them, occasionally I reach the point where I give up and say "Don't worry, we'll talk later.".

There are moments when I resent them, which sounds terrible. How can you resent two small boys? That's the thing sometimes it brings out angry or resentful thoughts in you and you think "Shit, I'm actually a horrible person".

Then you realise, it doesn't make you a terrible person at all, because (I'm sure!) even parents with their own children have times when they feel like they are going a bit mad.

And you just want to scream..."CAN I JUST FINISH MY SENTENCE??"....."CAN YOU PLEASE JUST STOP ARGUING FOR ONE MINUTE"...."CAN YOU PLEASE JUST STOP MUCKING AROUND AND LET ME FINISH DOING WHAT I'M DOING." "I'VE TOLD YOU TO DO SOMETHING THREE TIMES NOW AND I REALLY DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO SAY IT AGAIN!!!!!!"

For my Mum and Rob, this is their job, it just so happens that their job is linked in very closely with their home lives, which means that it's pretty much 24/7.

Sometimes on bad days, when my mum is stressed and the boys are playing her up and I can see she's just had enough, I think "Why do you bother??", I worry for them, it's not a job where they can go home and relax at the end of the day and try to forget about everything, it is literally their life. 

But then I realise why they bother, I look at how far the boys have come since they came to us.

I look at them and their little ways: 

They show affection, they can use a knife and fork properly, they can get themselves dressed and ready (though sometimes they have to be sent back upstairs if there is a bit of a mismatched outfit going on!), they've grown more confident, they've developed little quirks and funny little sense of humours, they are brave and try new things, they go to beavers and scouts, they go away on camping weekends and work hard to earn their badges, they both read a lot, they've developed imaginations, they sing a long to songs in the car and they ask questions about everything. They sit and watch 'The Chase' with me in the evenings and shout out the answers (complete guesses!) and cheer when they get them right. They try and tell silly little jokes that don't quite work, they get excited about their birthdays. They still believe in Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy and they try and use big words in conversations that aren't quite right. They pick up on phrases that we use and try and use them in an argument incorrectly in a way that makes us chuckle. 

That is why we bother. 

Yes it's hard work, sometimes I dream of the days when it was just me and my mum in our little house, life was so peaceful and calm and just completely different. Although the boys drive me mad at times and I think it's all too much and "GOD I JUST NEED TO GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE", secretly, I think they are pretty admirable. The fact that they came to live with complete strangers at such a young age and despite the odd hiccup along the way and the sometimes slightly naughty behaviour, they've actually been very, very brave and have done very well. 

That's all down to my Mum and Rob as well and the patience and time and love they have provided them with,

I'm thinking of looking into, or setting up some form of online support for Foster Siblings.

When you are a child in care you get all kinds of emotional support provided for you (rightly so!) in whichever way, shape or form you need it.

When you are a foster carer you get meetings with social workers, there are places and meetings you can go to, where you can vent, get support and just generally let off steam. However us foster siblings get forgotten about slightly. It's hard, you have your own life and job and things you do, but you are also having to come home and live through your parents job, deal with the struggles that the job brings, whilst remaining helpful and supportive.

I've accepted that this is life now, it feels a million miles away from our old life, but that's what happens, things change. I'm not going to be around home forever (I hope!!) I'm reaching that age now where I'm thinking about the future, I want to do some travelling, get a new full time and well paid job that is more in my chosen field, move out of home and further down the line, I would like to meet someone and settle down and become a mummy. (But not just yet, I still feel like I've got a few more years of partying and holidays and travelling left in me first!). 

And as the years go on, just like my life will change, things will change at home. Children come to us and we help them, whether they need us for years and years or just for a couple of months or even weeks, then when they have got all they can from us, and us from them, then they move on, leaving our door open to the next young person who needs our help. Each child bringing with them their own personality, their own struggles and their own stories. each child affecting our lives in a different way. Sometimes we learn just as much from them as they learn from us. 

So yes, there are times when it's tough and sometimes it feels like the struggles outweigh the good. But there are always little moments where they melt my heart slightly.

When I read them their bedtime story and they snuggle up to me.

When I tuck them in and they give me a big hug and every night they say "Night Night Tasmin, Hope you have a lovely sleep!" 

When they get the giggles over something silly I've said, that really wasn't that funny, but they laugh like it's THE funniest thing they have ever heard in their lives.

When tonight I was babysitting and me and J sat in the lounge together, we watched TV, we ate crisps and sweets and too much chocolate despite just having dinner. She played me songs she likes off her phone and showed me silly videos. Then we stuck on Keeping up with the Kardashians and she played on her iPad whilst I read my book, we just sat in complete companionable silence with each other. 

You have to be everything when your family foster, A big sister, a counsellor, a life-coach, a friend, someone who will be honest with them and speak out when the truth needs to be said to them.

It's completely changed my life, yet now, they are my slightly mismatched, loud, chaotic family.

And I couldn't imagine my life without them.

xx