Bringing Up Bébé

Recently, while reading A Cup of Jo (great blog - check it out), I came across a post about Pamela Druckerman's book, "Bringing Up Bébé."  It was the first time I'd heard about it, and as a fan of all things French (and all things baby), I not only read the post, but also the comments that went along with it.  

To bring you up to speed, Druckerman, an American expat married to a British expat raised in Holland, embarks on motherhood in France and decides to raise her three children in Paris.  As she struggles through parenting, she observes that the French have a different (better?) way of doing things and decides to investigate. 

My initial reaction after reading the Cup of Jo post was that these parenting techniques were not French, they were simply good parenting.  Then I wanted to know just how long Druckerman had lived in France before coming to her conclusions.  I've been here almost 8 years and the French still confuse me- what were her stats? Was she really an authority on French parenting? After reading this critique in the New York times, in all honesty, I didn't even want to support Druckerman by purchasing her book. But I had to - I wanted to see what the fuss was all about.  Amazon.fr helped me with that, and I was soon the owner of my very own hard-copy of "Bringing Up Bébé."

Maybe it's because I'm also an American in Paris - an expat making a life in France, maybe it's because I'm almost 30 and have babies on the brain, or maybe it's because Druckerman is just a really funny writer, but I loved "Bringing Up Bébé." Though she investigates like a reporter, siting her references and  interviewing experts in the field of child-rearing in France and the US, I didn't really mind that many of the "French parenting techniques" she speaks of were sometimes just simple observations she made in the park or learned more about by speaking with the French mothers she meets at the crèche (daycare center for babies).

She talks about the challenges of finding a spot at the crèche in France, the meaning of caca-boudin - a French "bad word" for five-year-olds, and the many differences between French and American parenting.  A lover of franglais myself, I appreciated that her chapters are perfect translations of French parenting expressions, making sense only to those of us to speak both languages. In other words, when I read the book, I wasn't judging whether or not her claims were supported by enough documentation (such as Meadows, the New York Times reviewer), I just enjoyed reading about her observations as an American raising her kids in France,  learning how to navigate being a parent in a system that is so unlike the one we were raised in - it's something that I may be doing at some point later down the road. 

Druckerman describes how strange/funny/wonderful it is to raise bilingual children whose first reaction when opening a Christmas gift is, "oh la la!" This is something I wonder about as well - how will I feel having children who lean more towards French than English, who grow up eating chocolate bars in baguettes - a typical French gouter! (snack) - and who play in Parisian parks instead of the soccer fields of suburbia? 

I couldn't help but love the book more when Druckerman quotes from Katie Allison Granju, contributor to Babble.com and respected writer of mamapundit, another one of my favorite blogs. She talks about helicopter-parenting, a phenomenon I am all too familiar with, and brings to light the over-the-top, super-human parenting that goes on in the US.  I should know, my mom was what the French call, une maman-taxi - a taxi-mom - shuttling me to dance, my sister to soccer and my brother to football practice, every.single.day. The French don't do this and there may be a good reason why - they don't let being a parent completely take over their lives. (I love my mom for shuttling me around, but I know it was completely and utterly exhausting for her - I'm not sure that I could do it and remain sane). 

It's not without a little cynicism that Druckerman presents all of these techniques and ideas - coming both sides of the Atlantic. Her endearing self-deprecation makes me appreciate her writing even more.  I may even love the fact that she and her family live on the east side of Paris, that she goes into detail about her fears of giving birth in a French hospital and explains the techniques of French health-care-covered perineal reeducation. She may or may not also admit that her entire family uses the French word "prout" instead of "fart," now that they are a little Franco-American brood (am I the only one who still thinks that bathroom humor is funny?) She's relatable, witty, making it work abroad (bravo!), and I'm frankly a little bummed out that I've already finished the book.

photo from Cup of Jo

4 Baby Girls

There's a baby boom in the land of FCC - in under two months, my friends from around the globe have given birth to FOUR baby girls.

1. 100% American couple from California gave birth to Lily in December.

2. 50% French, 50% American couple from New York gave birth to Mathilde on the same day.

3. 50% French, 50% English couple from Caen just gave birth to Joanna on February 3rd.

4. 100% French couple from Paris are due in two weeks with a yet-to-be-named baby girl.

Lily, Mathilde, Joanna and soon-to-be-born Baby Girl - crazy non?

Copain and I did some massive baby shopping at BHV on Saturday so that we could shower gifts on the new mamans and papas, which was of course followed by massive baby gift wrapping:

Our Frenchie friends (who live right down the the street!) also got some babysitting gift certificates :-)

It's so bizarre when your friends become parents !  It will be interesting to see how each little girl grows up with their various nationalities and homes in different parts of the world. Will the Americans know how to pronounce Mathilde? Will Joanna grow up speaking English too? It's fascinating don't you think?!

Here's to the four new healthy, happy baby girls that are now a part of our world...Félicitations mes amis!

Le Vous Me Tue*

Throughout this whole vous issue I've been dealing with, I've been thinking about a good point that my Moom brought up.  I was perusing the aisles of Picard, explaining my extreme honte to my mother when she said, "how are you going to teach this concept to your children if you don't even believe in it yourself."

Oh dear. My Moom is right - if the vous were a religion, I would only use it at Christmas and Easter.  I just can't get behind this archaic institution.


Apparently my parents tried to get me to say, "Hello Mrs. Smith" and "Thank you, Mr. Jones," but the relaxed 1980's California vibe just didn't jive with the 1950's world my parents grew up in.  No one did that anymore. My friends' parents would say, "oh just call me Sally" or " Just call me Margaret" - none of this Mr. and Mrs. junk or Sir and Ma'am.  Sure, I called my teachers Mrs. Collins and Mr. Miller, but aside from that, everyone was on a first name basis with everyone else.  And I liked it that way.

During my first couple of years in France, I babysat for a family with three children. They were great kids with involved parents, but I could tell from get go that une bonne éducation was a big priority for them. The maman would ask if they had finished their devoir (homework) and when they responded "oui", she would said "comment?" (what?). They would immediately stand up a little straighter and correct themselves with the sing-song response, " Oui, Maman" (Yes, Mom).

Those kids were taught to say Oui Maman, Non merci Papa, Excusez-moi Madame, Bonjour Monsieur, Merci Madame, Aurevoir Monsieur. Never just - Yes, No, Excuse me, Hello, Thank you, Good Bye.  Without following the response by addressing the person to whom you are talking, you are clearly, mal-élévé with une mauvaise éducation. Basically, no one taught you any manners.

I certainly do not want my kids to be rude - I will always teach them to be polite and considerate of others. But, is all this formality really necessary? And what if someone with who they should normally use the "vous" (a teacher or elder, for example), talks to them badly - should they really have to maintain a certain respect level just because it's the done thing? How will I ever get a handle on this French way of interacting? If I think it's silly, how will that not rub off on my poor Franco-American (unborn) children? (I realize I am fretting over kids that are not even In Utero, but just hear me out :-)

My first response to my Moom was, "Well, that will be Copain's job." But then I thought again... of course there will be times when I am in public with my kids and Copain is not there. Though I will only speak in English with them, they will speak in French with those around them, and surely I will need to correct their levels of politesse - in French. Génial.  This means I had better figure out how I feel about all this stuff - it almost feels as important as religion - what values do you impart on your enfants? Do you both agree on the important stuff? Can I explain to my kids that to me it is a game?

Maybe they just need to learn how to be good players in both countries... whether they are bluffing or not.

*The Vous Kills Me