Mothers Day 2016 

Mother’s Day is really hard for because I got two mums ad that’s really hard as it is but deep down it mum bear that is my mum she makes me fell safe she tells me when I’m wrong or been a drama queen and all so is their to comfort me in dark times. she makes me cry how much she does for me ad how important I I’m to hear ad I fell bad that I don’t do the same as I do find it really hard to think off others. I don’t fell the same about Dawn as mum bear the one I wish was thear. mum bear is the one I go to when I’m hert ad sad or angry ad I do fell that Mother’s Day is a money marking thing and I cart stand all them bloody sickening cards what don’t make EY sense if u don’t fell love to words that person but mum bear is the only person I’m sloppy with ad I do fell it’s hard for kids when thay don’t have a mum or thay mum didn’t try ad thay in children’s homes. It brakes me when I think I got everything ad thay kids like that ad when thay get kick out at 18 when thay not ready then thay get into chrimes ad thay get in to trouble when actually thay not been bad just need help ad it really makes me won’t to be a parent. I’m was the lucky one I got mum how means every thing to me ad As I’m getting les angry ad lashing out I’m get very very very pritactive ad I loved her more than EY thing. she very funny ad I love chilling with her ad her cooking is just the best thing ever it warming ad makes me fell warm ad safe ad her hugs do the same my favourite things when I hug her is her smell that just like u back with mum u safe ad u don’t have to be hard man ad I love her with my pet ginnie pig ollie it like I’m parent and she granny ad thay so a like. 

ENy way to much sloppy ness now yuck! 
Me and Ollie 

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CWJ5vYatZHU

Jazz Blog: Unconditional Love

The mother how had unconditional love for her girl but could not cope.

When I was first born I had some problems but we are not saw what. my mum
love me so much but could not cope because her mum had bereavement when my grandad died when he was 28. he was a fishmon ad he got kill by a bom at sea ad thats wear my famley trubble started.

then my mum got older ad get put in a children home ad she got sexley abrust. then she was home less ad she met dad ad it’s a bit of a weird one because he was a older man ad he had 4 kids.
he was in the army but then his wife died and then got with my mum. then they had my big Bro Michael and he died at berth. then Justin then one more miss caridge then me then my little brother Freddie. she found it hard because she had three kids 1 3 yearold 1 2 year old 1 year old ad she us to hit me ad I seam to rember her shouting at me then she was all over me ad it was a bit of a head fuck er.

Then I got put in to fosta home seprut to my brothers ad then mummy bear came ad then when I was 8 I got rey a nightid with my mum ad dad. then when I was 19 dad died ad I blame my mum because she was not very nice to my dad. well that how I fell ad now I have day dreams of killing her ad how nice that would fell like but then I fell so much love for her.

I some times fell that I wish it was my mum dead not dad I very very angry with her but I I’m a mums boy ad I fell so angry ad hate her so much because I us to get the shit end of the stick ad then she would be all sorry then angry again ad it’s left me not trust in her. ad skerd of her ad some time shit my self it might all kick off again.

this I think is what she thinks hey jazz i so sorry I love you I just had a shit time in my live I would not hert u u are my number one. ad this me think well its to late u stupid cow u should fort about that in the first place it’s to late I’m not for giving I wish you wear dead. mummy bear is my mum now u had your chance fuck of ad out of my live then I think no give her a chance I love her to much.
But mummy bear is my mum no one els.

This song is like how I feel

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Ra-Om7UMSJc

Attachment Taboo’s

MUMS THOUGHTS

From the early days of meeting Jazz I tried to work with my instinct as a parent figure rather than with prescribed traditional parenting methods (I knew little of attachment theory back then).

My approach included following her lead and ‘playing babies’ with nappies and bottles despite her being five years old. It also included using water as a regulator and calming tool. In the beginnings of our placement together she was terrified and ‘high’ and she would seek immersion in water up to five times a day.

Once some trust had been built up between us we began to have more close interactions which included cuddling in bed and on the sofa as well as having baths together. Jazz loved skin to skin cuddles, especially in water. She also loved going camping and running about the woods in her pants. In fact her preferred state at all times was to be in her pants wherever we were. One of the key reasons for school exclusion was her desire to be free of clothes at playtime. I clearly remember her absolute upset and confusion when I had to stop her being in just shorts and pants on beaches and in public as her breasts developed. She couldn’t understand the difference between a French and UK beach in regards to nakedness. The talk I had to have about adults who found children sexually attractive totally freaked her out.

We recently made a documentary about our lives to use as a training tool for adoption support professionals in education and at conference. There was little family footage of the early years (up to about 8 years old) where Jazz was not happily dancing about or playing in her pants or swimsuit. As a result some of that innocent footage is featured. I shared it with an academic whom I thought may be interested in the support issues it raised. Despite researching and writing about adoption support this persons main feedback concern was that the film may be attractive to paedophiles. This reaction sadly symbolises the culture we live in.

Jazz often talks of her favourite memory in foster care. Every Sunday morning her foster carers would allow her to jump into their bed with them and have tea and biscuits in her pyjamas. She was aware that they were not really supposed to do it but described it in a funny and warm way. It symbolised love and fun and family. Every week the carers would feign pretend shock at the amount of crumbs she had caused. I’m sure that they would have been in trouble had the social worker known and despite sharing the information with me, describing her need for closeness, they asked me not to repeat it to her social worker. I can understand the risk averse rules of fostering but I didn’t expect to face concern about such issues in my own home.

As Jazz became older concern was often expressed in front of her about us sharing a bed. It was if it were weird and somehow a bit unsavoury. This would regularly be put to her by social workers in care planning and support meetings ‘aren’t you a bit old to share with mum’. The inference was clear to her. She was babyish and I was potentially ‘strange’. Maybe even one of those unsafe adults I had told her about.

After such meetings she would be really angry and aggressive and refuse close comforting of any kind until she became so deregulated that she couldn’t achieve anything. On being persuaded it was ok and safe to share with me for a night her anxiety would drop immediately, she would become happy and life would return to normal, until the next time. Close cuddling and sharing a bed was the number one therapeutic miracle cure for just about everything.

We are a culture that separates ourselves to sleep. Adult bedrooms are often portrayed as places for sexual intimacy. The riches of the West make it possible in many families for every household member to have their own bedroom (along with TV). In Jazz’s family home her parents and their children would all sleep in the living room together as the house was so small.

As she became a teenager and the professional pressure for us to physically separate became greater I set up a mattress on my bedroom floor for the difficult times. If she could just hear my breathing it regulated her. Even this was considered by professionals as in some way dangerous and anti attachment. The implication was that I was at best encouraging an insecure attachment. The point that the attachments still needed much work, that this teenager was still catching up, was missed.

It is considered ok and actually desirable to have skin to skin contact with a young baby. A recent story about it went viral on social media. A baby that was ‘stillborn’ miraculously came to life after it’s parents both got naked and cuddled it in the hospital bed.

It seems sad to me that we now live in a culture that perceives close physical contact with children and especially young people as such a risk and even a taboo. I understand that if a child has a history of physical or sexual abuse against them this is a very delicate issue. I also know however, of abused children regularly physically restrained in institutions. Children whose background of holding or touch would have been negative in the extreme. It seems ok to physically intervene in a punitive intervention with such children but not in a loving way. Jazz’s brother certainly suffered under the ‘no physical contact’ culture in his children’s home. Living there from 6 years old to thirteen nobody had shown him how to clean himself properly nor hugged him when he was frightened or hurt. His average face down physical restraint frequency was at one time 11 per week.

Im not sure of all the answers on how to safely promote physical closeness as an aid to healthy attachment. I know a small minority of foster carers and adopters will be sexual abusers as will birth parents and care workers in children’s homes. We live in shocking times where we are discovering that respected leaders and public figures are potentially covering up a huge and disgusting sexual abuse scandal.

I really hope that as therapeutic parents and carers to traumatised children and young people we can be encouraged and supported, where appropriate, to physically and safely hold and comfort them in every day as well as in times of crisis. That this can be valued as part of healthy attachment and that the bloody perverts don’t win the day.

JAZZ THOUGHTS

When I was a new born I us to shear with my bros our daddy and mum. Then when I got fostered I us to on a weekend jump in with my foster mum ad my dad went down stairs ad get me a bottle ad biscuits.

when mummy bear adopted me we use to play babies because we treat me as a new born to build trust and bond. We shred a bed a lot for years but when I teen the Ss us to say don’t u think your a bit old to be doing that kind of thing. It us to drive me mad ad then I wouldn’t shear for ages until I was driving my self mad and then I would.

to this day I love it and would do it with all my sport workers but I no I can’t.

ad the same on skin to skin. Why do I like it? Because even tho I can’t remember my body can. My berth mum did ad my dad. Some one else’s hart beat is so soothing to me ad I feel the skin to mine. It like when a dog acts in the world as wolfs it a very comfortable place for them to be in ad when they do it’s a massive trust step. Ad it’s like that for me.

when you are trusting them to be on your tummy or back or chest or wear ever. I like the feeling of that.

why do I like searing a bed? Because I all ways sleep with no top on so it’s skin to skin and I sear with mum it calms me down and it really charging the barteery. So if I on 50% it’s quite bad ad usually it cart get eny lower than that but it can if I really stress out. But what we are aming for is 100% if not more.

When I am very anxious or angry it sets me up for a good week and make me feel mums there until she comes back.

My Name Is Jazz: 100 Words About My Number 1 Girl

When I was five I got this felling that I was going to be loved but a bit skerd to bleve it. when I was a teenager I loved her very much ad I very attached to her and when she was not hear I fell hope less. I think about her all the time ad I sum times text to much or ring because I missing her but I have to be brave ad strong about it ad I very protectve of her but the oley one who herts her is me ad I fell bit crappie about that. Love my mum.

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Jazz Blog: The Joy Of Smells

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The joy of smells but it can mack me fell fuck up.

My fav smell is mummy bear and it makes me fell that every thing is going to be okay and I’m safe. when my sport workers come I no when they coming by their smell. so say like when Kat gets hear and say I’m in my room I will smell her and that smell makes me very very existed and makes me fell happy and giddy and like I’m going to wet my self out of giddiness. if Kris’s here and I smell her and that makes me fell giddy and all so makes me fell very safe. when Andi is here that give me flash backs to when he use to hold me as a kid. When clads here that makes me fell all cute and I no then that clads is here and that means that it’s okay and I fell like I’m loved. say if u put sum think over my eyes so I cart see I will Abel to smell who is next to me and if they change the smell of that person I rally don’t like it because it makes me fell like they are not the person I no and not familiar and I don’t no them but my brain is saying u do but my nose isn’t And it brushes me off and makes me fell angry and that they don’t love me or kear about me. My smell makes me fell safe and sum time cross because I sum times get so existed I wet my self and that give me flash back from bean a baby. if mum says who’s is the top or jumper etc I will say who it belongs to. Even when I only no them for 10 mins I get attached to there smell in seconds and I like to share my stuff with them because when they have gone I put it on and it macks me fell safe and it reasores me that they are still here even tho u cart see them. if they go on holiday I won’t wash my jumper or what eaver they have toch because there smell go starte on to it and I no that seams mad but that’s what macks me fell safe.
I’m bloody mad lol
😳😳😳😳😳

 

My Name Is Jazz: Attachment And Security

Mummy bear is my bestis right hand girl
When I was a baby I was left quite a lot and if I’m left even for a mint now I panic and it gives me flash backs to mum leaving and fell like no one cares and they going to die or get mederd are hert them self and then I get silly and lash out and I chew a lot and say things I don’t men. my mummy bear is my life and she is like my body when I hear her Harte beet and I smell her it makes me fell safe and can be carm and my self and not fell pankey and I think some times wen I’m without mum I fell more like a tuff guy and I have to bee.

I rally don’t like Monday whenday Thursday firday because I don’t Like been in my own
And pitkley on a Monday because I fell more a wake and uther peppel are a wake and that pankis me because I fell temted to to wake them up and jump in with them because I love to fell uther pepels Harte beets and Abel to smell them and I’ve allwhys loved skin to skin baskley u could hold hands or head to head or bum to bum or leg to leg but it could be clashed as unappropriet and I hate I cart be clouse to peppel but the number one person I love to do that with is my best mate Erin or mum or my dog coco she is my staffie.

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Wen mum is not hear my chest berns and it feel like a grate big war wood and when I see her it goes. she is like my drug like some peppel like weed or codeine or herring and when she is not hear I crafe her like I don’t no what so I chew more say and say things I don’t mean a some time atack peppel wich is mean but I some time crafing the moment with my mum I will just do Ey thing to see her she Is my right hand man and she is my onley person I would tell Ey thing to and I will have no shame of telling when it’s to do with some think rally bad and she is the oley person I don’t tell lies to or be dissobits to but some times she has to push me to the limited.

I crafe her kiss and her hugs all week and I think about 24 7 and I’m so sked she going to die or get merdond i totrters my self and I all ways say I don’t love my mum and I hite her but I love her more then my self and my uther firends and famley.

I some time think if my dad can die than mum will and it hertz so bad to the pont I some times hert my self on pepuss and atcley sick and shaky and That’s when I look up bad things and crave weed because I need some think to replace it and keep out of my head.

To this day I fell so qultey that she could just say right I’m going out for the night and see a fiend or some one I’m like one of the guys who are so psevive because I’m so sked she won’t come back.

But she went on holiday and left me for a frew days and I did rally well but don’t get me rong it was tuff and I love it at 6 on a Tuesday night and 11 on saturday morning because I so happy to be with her and fell supper safe we are like a married cuppel just with out the sex and songing lol

 

 

Adoption Stories: Fact & Fiction

Adoption in itself brings together the many stories and experiences of several people. Birth family, adoptee, adopters and adoption workers. All family stories are important and often treasured, hidden, embroidered, repeated, or celebrated, but when a continuity is broken they can also become confused, muddled and mistold.

My adopted daughter came into my life with a scrapbook put together by her brilliant foster family, showing her time with them, happy events and fellow foster children. There was no detailed life story book. It was as if she were born aged four. The social services gave me verbal stories of her inadequate parents, chaotic and abusive home life…her mother had “knocked her front teeth out” and how she may have been born out of prostitution as her skin colour suggested “another ethnic background to that of her siblings”.

I was shocked and quite scared when I was told to avoid certain geographical areas due to the threat of potential attack by her mum.

After a few months of placement I felt I really needed more background to “the story” in order to understand my daughter properly. It took me a long time to piece together the bits of information I could get hold of. It helped enormously when I was able to contact a birth aunty who was a calm and reasonable police officer. I managed to get enough history to feel comfortable enough to meet Dawn and Fred. One of the most important things was hearing that Jazz lost her baby teeth when one of her siblings accidentally let go of her toddler reins and she fell over. I heard Dawn had a learning disability and behavioural problems which made her hard to engage with. I heard Fred was a lot older and his pride got in the way of him accepting support.  Another important piece of the jigsaw was hearing she had an African descendant, maybe a great grandfather, and her mums skin colour was beautiful like hers. How this became translated into her mother being a prostitute I still don’t know.

I was still really scared to go into the social services office to meet the parents, especially as the social worker was not altogether impressed with the idea due to the “no birth family contact” order given in court. My heart was racing feeling sure they would hate me for having their child. Instead Dawn hugged me and we cried together.

From that day on we have worked together to give Jazz a fuller picture of her life. It hasn’t been easy and I have had to encourage Dawn not to blame everything on the social services and own up to her failures as well as to own her successes. Jazz has needed support and to be given control over the level of contact.It has resolved things for her and bought about forgiveness, mainly of herself. I have grown to love Dawn and Fred like I do my birth family, sometimes we bicker and annoy each other but the ties are strong.

Jazz’s family history is much like many others. It has sad bits, happy bits, bits that bring shame and bits to be proud of. Now it has melded into my family history and become a part of my story and my history.

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My Name Is Jazz: The Future

Whell I have moved in to my on house as u all no but I all ways won’t a house by the see side  because  I love walking on the beach and having fires and felling the lovely soft sand and the smell of the see and swimming and tacking the most wonderful stafferbull tears out.

And my ideal car is a soberro but well have to bee realistic so voxyl cosa red and black Matted and big lound spieler and orange wells and black out windows  And a massive speaker in the boot.

And Ideil job is army or police but yet ageing we have to bee realistic so a macanick with my new friends and me to bee ther boss for ones not mother hen!!!!!!

And my ideal stile is rally skinny jeans and long hire and one side saved but I cart grow my hire past a grade 4 because its rally annoye me.

my i deil body is big rip mussels and my idel tatto is marvel comics sleeve and my ideal  Holiday is New York withe the most wounde full fiend and mum ever

And my ideal laptop is a Appel Mac.

me and one of my best fiends we are starting a caffe at the hotel and I’m go to do a club with no acihol.

i work at a resqiew center for dogs and birds and a blind gote and stuff and we got a Gary hound in on whensday and he is in a rate stat so I rally won’t to help him get better.

My  one dreem that I’ve all ways won’t I’d is a baby girl calls Tilly Kat Boorman or a son call Jason David Boorman the end.