It's been a week of headlines. No disrespect to the tragedies of Boston but the news in particular that has caught my attention is that of the young mum who killed her pregnant self and her three children. I should be saddened by this but the truth is, she's cheesed me off. Taken the lives of those four children when I would be grateful to have just one. I think this level of cheese-ing off has really hit a nerve with me because technically, she was in our 'zone'. You see, the world of adoption is funny. There are numerous underlying geographical restrictions of where you can adopt from. We cannot adopt any children from our nearest town which is six miles away due to the potential security risks of running into the birth parent or a relative outside Boots! Now, I will admit, it is not the most affluent of towns and the number of looked after children is increasing rapidly. So it's a shame but we had always expected to wait a bit longer for our little one and presumed that they would come from a similar town up north. And this mum has just gone and taken the world away from those four little souls in that town. That's four little children instantly removed from my potential quota.
Another piece of news which really caught my chocolate starved eye is the plea in the local paper for more adopters and foster carers. A bold statement saying there are currently more than 30 children in our county waiting for placement. So, my question is this really. They can barely cope with their workload at the moment, in fact it is clear they are not coping at all, so how on earth is this going to help. They don't need more adopters. They need more social workers, less admin and a little more trust.
To shine some light on things, I throw my afternoon tea party on the weekend and its a hit! My house is filled with friends, babies, toddlers, laughter and a heck of a lot of cake. There are mountains of light fluffy scones with lashings of cream, sweet sticky lemon drizzle, cute little sandwiches and an array of sweet treats. But the crowning glory is the monster-size coffee and walnut cake and as friends are leaving they are begging for take-away slices. It takes me ages to clear up and I'm in good spirits. Probably due to the amount of champers I seem to have drunk and the Frank Sinatra that is on loud. I wonder how different things will be once there are little ones in tow. How would I manage something like this? In fact, how do mums manage all the housework while constantly having to look after a toddler. Ideas on a postcard please....