Things I Hope My Children Learned When We Became Kinship Carers / Special Guardians

When we became kinship carers, our boys were just 3, 9, and 12. Even then, I knew their lives were about to shift in ways they were far too young to fully understand. Almost overnight, our home stretched to hold more emotions, more needs, more chaos, and more love than any of us had known before. I worried constantly about what the boys would take in from all of it. Would they feel pushed aside. Would they understand why we said yes. Would this shape them in ways I could never undo.

Now, with some time and a lot of reflection behind us, I find myself hoping that somewhere among the noise, the confusion, and the growing pains, they learned a few things that will stay with them for life.

These are the things I hope my children took from our journey into kinship care.

That love is not limited. It expands.

I hope they learned that welcoming another child into our home did not mean dividing love into smaller portions. Love is not a fixed amount. It grows. It stretches. It makes room. When they saw us open our hearts to someone who needed safety and comfort, I hope they absorbed the quiet message that there is always space for more love, even if it took time for that to feel true.

That families are built in more ways than one

At 3, 9, and 12, they were old enough to notice that our family did not look quite like everyone else’s. But I hope they learned that families are not defined by neat labels or traditional outlines. Families are built by showing up, staying, and holding each other through the hard chapters. I hope they carry that understanding into their own lives, that sense of belonging that is not limited by biology.

That compassion is something you do, not just something you feel

I hope they saw that caring for someone who has lived through difficult things means showing up even when it is inconvenient, uncomfortable, or disruptive. Compassion asks for patience, sacrifice, and softness, especially on days when you feel empty yourself. I hope they learned that helping someone is rarely tidy or impressive, but it is almost always worth it.

That it is okay to feel conflicted

My boys had front row seats to a family life that suddenly became louder, more emotional, and more complex. They felt jealous sometimes. They felt annoyed. They felt worried. And I hope they learned that those feelings were allowed. Necessary, even. Love does not mean you never feel resentment or confusion. It means you notice those feelings and still choose kindness when you are able.

That we trusted them with the truth

We did not pretend that kinship care came without pain or complicated realities. We protected them from details they did not need, but we did not lie or gloss things over. I hope they felt that trust. That they learned honesty is the backbone of a strong family, even when the truth feels awkward or uncomfortable.

That adults do not always have the answers

I hope they saw us trying. Sometimes clumsily. Sometimes, while exhausted. We made mistakes. We learned. We tried again. I hope they understood that adulthood is not about perfection, and that real strength often shows up in admitting you are struggling and continuing anyway.

That kindness does not mean losing yourself

As our family dynamic shifted, each boy had to learn how to be kind without becoming overwhelmed, generous without being taken advantage of, and patient without disappearing. I hope they learned that it is okay to say I need space, or this does not feel okay, or I am struggling too. Kindness and self-respect can exist together.

That stepping up for someone else matters

I hope they noticed the power of showing up in small, quiet ways. Helping with homework. Sharing toys. Including someone who sometimes found it hard to join in. Offering grace when emotions spilt over. These moments slowly built a new sense of family in our home. I hope they one day look back and feel proud of the role they played in that.

That hard things can shape you in beautiful ways

Kinship care added a weight to their childhoods that I wish I could have taken away. But it also offered them empathy, resilience, and understanding beyond their years. I hope they learned that difficult experiences do not define you, but they can refine you, strengthening parts of you that will serve you for the rest of your life.

That our home will always be a safe place

More than anything, I hope they grew up knowing that our home is a place where people are cared for and never left to struggle alone. That they carry the unshakeable belief that they will always have somewhere to land, no matter the mistakes they make or the paths they take.

Kinship care changed my children. It changed our lives. And yes, it brought challenges I wish they had not had to face so young. But it also planted seeds of compassion, courage, and connection that I hope will continue to grow with them for the rest of their lives.

If they carry even a few of these lessons quietly in their hearts, then maybe the hardest season of our family story also became one of its most meaningful.

About me

I am a married mother of four children. One of those children is our granddaughter, for whom we are legal guardians and kinship carers. I run a small business and I love to write, which is how this blog came to be. I write about family life, kinship care, and my experiences living with chronic illness and disability, including ME CFS, spinal stenosis, chronic pain, and fibromyalgia. I am also very aware that I am doing all of this in my mid-forties, which still surprises me some days.