About Raising Other People's Children
This is the book that never got written. A collection of thoughts, I-told-you-so unnecessaries, videos and podcasts (all in good time), images (yeah, no), stories, memoires, tips and tricks. The self-help book that's aimed at helping no one but - no, actually no one. This is not a self-help book.
Try putting all of that in a book. No, actually, try getting that published.
I have come to the conclusion that I have spent half a lifetime looking after other people's children. My own brothers, from time to time. The kids I used to babysit (one of them I know is not messed up). The kids I used to teach. The kids I used to (try and) look after at summer camp. Right now, the kids in my wife's boarding house.
Oh, and my own.
Almost all of them, people I hardly knew (not my daughter. My brothers, I am not so sure). Almost all of them children of people I never even got to meet. All of them entrusting me with their most cherished possession, if you can call it that. The thing they'd save first out of a burning building (my brothers, I am not so sure). Many of them travelled hundreds and thousands of miles and got looked after this weird person who likes listening to 80s pop music, jazz and who thinks R2D2 is more than just a droid.
I have written the book on looking after children that aren't mine and whose parents weren't usually asking me to look after them in the first place. You can imagine that book wouldn't get through a first round of The Apprentice.
Imagine a book that raises more questions about looking after children than it actually answers. Imagine a book that isn't actually a book but a series of websites. Free because let's face it, you wouldn't bloody pay for a book of questions.
You have just found that book.