Why would I want to put down the third book of the 50 Shades of Gray series and pick up Bringing Up Bebe? My entire life is spent in the trenches of
motherhood, so having the French tell me how to parent, in my precious spare
time mind you, was not something my defenses could take. Just the other day, I spent the better part
of 45 minutes de-crankifying my 3.5 year old son after his nap, 10 exhausting
minutes jamming my screaming, overtired 21-month-old daughter (who refused to
take a nap at all that day) into her pajamas, and then another 45-minutes doing
story drama to the book Go the F&%#
to Sleep. But, out of respect for my
book club, I picked up Bringing Up Bebe to
read about the calm, tantrum-less lives of French moms. And now, all I can say is, ‘voulez vous,
screw the French.’
Ok, so maybe that last comment was a tad harsh (and didn’t
make any sense). To be honest with you,
I quite enjoyed this book. And to be
truly honest with myself, French parenting is genius. The book is entertainingly written by the
very relatable Pamela Druckerman, a Jewish American writer who shacks up in
Paris and ultimately gets married and raises 3 young children with her beloved
Simon (who was raised in about 12 different countries it seems). We’d totally be friends with Pam and find out
within 5 minutes of meeting her that she graduated from Columbia University,
wrote a book about infidelity, studied improv at Upright Citizens Brigade and
gave her husband a ménage a trois for his 40th birthday. But that’s because we’re American. French women would barely learn her name.
To sum up: In France, kids are on an equal playing field
with all other aspects of life from career and marriage to dinnertime. French mothers view their children as an
equal slice of the pie that is their life.
Patience is more than a virtue there – it seems to be the single most
important thing for a child to have…besides an eclectic palate; whereas American
mothers seem to sacrifice a whole lot (i.e. their bodies, their hobbies, their
sex life, their careers, etc.) and gain a whole lot of guilt (and weight) in
the process. Hmm - put that way,
motherhood sounds pretty awful regardless of which continent you live on. Let’s
try it this way: American mothers put their children above all else. They
consult experts, books, each other and the Internet to find the best possible
parenting philosophy, and they use it to raise healthy, kind, talented,
intelligent, successful people. French
mothers treat their children as rational miniature adults who are capable of
behaving as such. They feel that as mothers, it is their responsibility to
raise children in a cadre or
framework that has defined boundaries but lots of freedom within those
boundaries. The French mother’s goal is to keep her life balanced (and her body
thin). And somehow, this innate approach to motherhood makes tantrums
non-existent, meals dignified and delicious (not to mention devoid of any
kid-friendly menu items), sleep training totally unnecessary and trips to the
playground actually relaxing.
After the rather exhausting day I had, clearly, the French
have got it all figured out. But do they?
It was hard to stifle my subconscious from peering up from her copy of Jane Eyre (ok, yeah, so I’ve since gone
back to reading 50 Shades) and stop
her from shouting anti-Parisian stereotypes that pretty much go unaddressed in
the book. What about all the smoking?!
What about all the snobbery?!
What about all the infidelity?!
What about all the spanking (no, that’s not another 50 Shades reference)?! Don’t
all the kids use pacifiers ‘till they’re, like, eight years old? No wonder
all the moms are skinny and the kids are well behaved!
For all the praising, over-scheduling and helicoptering that
goes on, don’t Americans turn out some pretty wonderful people? So what if my son eats a limited diet of
chicken fingers and PB&J? So what if
my daughter took eight months to sleep through the night? My kids are the
sweetest, funniest, most expressive, confident and cuddliest kids I know. There’s ample opportunity for them to realize
they’re not the center of the universe.
So, isn’t it nice for them to know they’re at least the center of
mine?
Look, don’t get me wrong.
The French way sounds very appealing, and I have no doubt that French
moms love and treasure their children just as much as we American moms do. But whereas moms have the “hardest job in the
world” here in the States, motherhood in France could be considered the “most
pleasurable job in the world”. It’d be
nice not to panic every time I pull up to a restaurant for a meal with the
kids. It’d be nice not to feel obligated
to go down the slide 50 times at the playground. And it’d be nice to have reliable,
inexpensive quality childcare that everyone
else is using too. Then again, I quite enjoyed gaining 50 pounds with each
pregnancy and losing the weight on my own terms and not society’s. And I kinda like going down the slide with my
daughter and cheering for my son each and every time he emerges from the
tube-slide with a big smile on his face.
And I bet my kids kinda like that too.
A friend of mine said it best: The French are raising their
children to live in France (and be terrific houseguests here in the US). We raise our children to live and thrive here
in America. To truly adopt the French
way of parenting, our entire society would have to be on board – and that’s
just not going to happen anytime soon.
But in the meantime, we can still learn from each other and be mindful
of how another culture might approach this minefield that is motherhood. Case in point - my son ate chicken teriyaki
for the first time tonight. No, it wasn’t fois gras, but it’s a start.
Stephanie Ila Silver-Silberstein is a Senior Editor and the Metro Mama / Metro Baby Section Editor for www.BeautyNewsNYC.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment