Parenting
Sunday morning, 9:30am, Williamsport, PA: Judah has a slight runny nose.
Can he go to the church nursery? It's January, everyone has a slight runny nose. But I don't know; I've never had a sick kid in America before. In France, there were a number of times we arrived at a friends' house, greeted them with the bises (kisses on either cheek) and learned that they'd been up with a sick kid all night. It was appalling for us! Why did you just kiss me if your family has been throwing up? Why am I in your house? With this in mind, I knew that a slight runny nose would not be a problem in France; but what about America?
Tuesday afternoon, 4pm, Aix-les-Bains, France: I watch our teammate's toddler climb up the sliding board at the city park.
I look around and notice that no other adult is within arm's length of their children. Is it OK to leave her to play alone? Can I sit quietly on a bench and watch from a distance? It was 2013, I didn't have children of my own, though I had lots of babysitting experience. In America, adults are expected to be near their child at all times; sitting alone on a bench would be looked down upon, especially if the child happened to fall and get hurt. But what about France?
Parenting is an interesting thing. Each country has their own rules and norms; even each family within each country has their own culture.
My sister-in-law recently commented on the fact that Jordan and I did a whole life-phase in another culture - I was pregnant, gave birth, and raised our first baby for 16 months in a country that is not our own. Jordan and I obviously grew up in America, which formed many of our ideas of what it is to raise children, but we became parents in France. Regardless of how much experience one has with children, nothing truly prepares you for parenthood until you're in the thick of it; and we were [first] in the thick of it in France.
I remember some Americans learning of my pregnancy with Elias, knowing he would be born in the US, and saying, "Oh good, you'll be able to have him in America!" I thought, "I don't know how to have a baby in America; for me, having a baby in France is what's normal." (OK, so having a baby is pretty much the same in any country as all babies are born in the same way(s) but the hospital experience and medical treatment is different.) After having given birth in both countries, people ask me the difference; it's hard for me to put to words how the experiences were different, but they were. Though France and the United States are similar in many ways, they most definitely are not the same. This is true for the whole culture, including the culture of parenting.
It seems as if there is a fascination with French parenting, perhaps in part due to books such as Bringing Up Bébé and French Kids Eat Everything. Recently I read a blog post, 14 Surprising Things about Parenting in France which I found really interesting. Reading this blog post along with some of the reader comments, I found myself nodding along and having a few "ah-ha" moments; it is giving me some words for things that I've felt but have been unable to express. The post talks about religion, day care, language, school, food... I'd encourage you to read it to get a glimpse into the French culture (and I'd be happy to dialogue with you after)!
I also found this article really interesting; I've been thinking about it a lot and trying to figure out where we land on the issues of independence, how the French do it differently than Americans, and how much we need to adapt to whichever culture we're in at the moment.
No parent would claim to have it all figured out. Each stage of a child's life is a new stage of parenting. While we learned how to become parents in France, we're learning to have a toddler in America. In every culture there are things to embrace, things to reject and redeem, and things that are simply different. The benefit of living in multiple cultures is that we get to choose the best of both worlds!
Can he go to the church nursery? It's January, everyone has a slight runny nose. But I don't know; I've never had a sick kid in America before. In France, there were a number of times we arrived at a friends' house, greeted them with the bises (kisses on either cheek) and learned that they'd been up with a sick kid all night. It was appalling for us! Why did you just kiss me if your family has been throwing up? Why am I in your house? With this in mind, I knew that a slight runny nose would not be a problem in France; but what about America?
Tuesday afternoon, 4pm, Aix-les-Bains, France: I watch our teammate's toddler climb up the sliding board at the city park.
I look around and notice that no other adult is within arm's length of their children. Is it OK to leave her to play alone? Can I sit quietly on a bench and watch from a distance? It was 2013, I didn't have children of my own, though I had lots of babysitting experience. In America, adults are expected to be near their child at all times; sitting alone on a bench would be looked down upon, especially if the child happened to fall and get hurt. But what about France?
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Parenting is an interesting thing. Each country has their own rules and norms; even each family within each country has their own culture.
My sister-in-law recently commented on the fact that Jordan and I did a whole life-phase in another culture - I was pregnant, gave birth, and raised our first baby for 16 months in a country that is not our own. Jordan and I obviously grew up in America, which formed many of our ideas of what it is to raise children, but we became parents in France. Regardless of how much experience one has with children, nothing truly prepares you for parenthood until you're in the thick of it; and we were [first] in the thick of it in France.
I remember some Americans learning of my pregnancy with Elias, knowing he would be born in the US, and saying, "Oh good, you'll be able to have him in America!" I thought, "I don't know how to have a baby in America; for me, having a baby in France is what's normal." (OK, so having a baby is pretty much the same in any country as all babies are born in the same way(s) but the hospital experience and medical treatment is different.) After having given birth in both countries, people ask me the difference; it's hard for me to put to words how the experiences were different, but they were. Though France and the United States are similar in many ways, they most definitely are not the same. This is true for the whole culture, including the culture of parenting.
It seems as if there is a fascination with French parenting, perhaps in part due to books such as Bringing Up Bébé and French Kids Eat Everything. Recently I read a blog post, 14 Surprising Things about Parenting in France which I found really interesting. Reading this blog post along with some of the reader comments, I found myself nodding along and having a few "ah-ha" moments; it is giving me some words for things that I've felt but have been unable to express. The post talks about religion, day care, language, school, food... I'd encourage you to read it to get a glimpse into the French culture (and I'd be happy to dialogue with you after)!
I also found this article really interesting; I've been thinking about it a lot and trying to figure out where we land on the issues of independence, how the French do it differently than Americans, and how much we need to adapt to whichever culture we're in at the moment.
No parent would claim to have it all figured out. Each stage of a child's life is a new stage of parenting. While we learned how to become parents in France, we're learning to have a toddler in America. In every culture there are things to embrace, things to reject and redeem, and things that are simply different. The benefit of living in multiple cultures is that we get to choose the best of both worlds!
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