Bringing up Bebe: French v. American Parenting

When my son was born, eleven years ago, I read every parenting book I could get my hands on. My parenting philosophy, if you could call it that, was a conglomeration of many thinkers. I loved Dr. Sears and his attachment wisdom, but hated the fact that there wasn't any predictable schedule, so I read Baby Wise and eased my son into a manageable daily routine. The two books were at opposite ends of the parenting spectrum. Sears says to hold your baby, sleep with your baby, be one with your baby, and this will foster independence and a healthy child. Baby Wise says to manage your baby, put them on a strict routine. Be the boss. I took what I thought was best from each, and it seemed to work just fine. When we had a bad day, I would panic, thinking I needed to change something, forgetting that life is just like that. Things don't always go according to plan. Especially children. Through all this reading I knew I was throwing out some of the way I was raised. I wanted to parent a bit differently than I was parented, a bit less strict, foster creativity and critical thinking. I know my sister feels the same way. We try hard to encourage, yet have a hard time staying firm and in control. We don't want to discipline, yet we realize that kids need limits. It is finding the balance between the two that is most challenging for me.

Now, eleven years later, I feel like I have the hang of it, but still need inspiration, and perhaps there are a few things that I could improve. Enter Bringing Up bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting by Pamela Druckerman. How could I resist?

Druckerman, an American living in Paris with her British husband, enters the parenting scene without a firm parenting philosophy. She realizes that she needs one when she and her husband take their young daughter on a vacation and find that they cannot eat out at restaurants or enjoy themselves at all because their daughter cannot sit still, and generally overwhelms her parents at every turn. "Why are all the other children in the restaurant sitting so well for so long?" she wonders. This observation, as well as future observations at the park, and friends' houses and then visits back to America, leave her wondering if perhaps the French don't have a better handle on this whole parenting business. Druckerman makes the argument that French children eat better, have better manners and are generally better behaved than most American children she observes. Why? What is the secret?

Seattle in the Spring

You may be rolling your eyes about now. Another book on why the French are better? Perhaps, but it is more than that. It is really an observation about what parenting methods work best for the entire family, and what methods don't. Here are a few points that I will keep with me:

1. Food and the joy of eating well. When French babies are introduced to solid food, rice cereal and the starch options are not readily available in the supermarkets. Babies are introduced to the joys of deliciously prepared vegetables: Druckerman writes "It turns out that French parents don't start their babies off on bland, colorless grains. From the first bite, they serve babies flavor-packed vegetables. The first foods that French babies typically eat are steamed and pureed green beans, spinach, carrots, peeled zucchini, and the white part of leeks. " Instead of viewing vegetables as an obligation, vegetables are viewed as a treat. A delicious part of life to be enjoyed. An experience. This seems wise to me. We are starting to introduce Baby to solids, and I've moved the Gerber rice cereal to the back of the pantry, and instead puree sweet potatoes, carrots and peas. Baby loves them.

2. American children, mine especially, snack all day long. They are so hungry when I pick them up from school that I don't put limits on how much they eat. I know this is partially a reaction to my childhood, when food was strictly limited, and I hated that I could not eat when I wanted to. But, I always ate my dinner, while my children often turn their nose up at this meal that I have worked so hard to prepare.

French children eat breakfast, then nothing until lunch, and then around 4pm they have their gouter - the only snack of the day. This gets them through until dinner, which they are expected to eat. They are not forced to eat everything on their plate, but to taste everything. It takes time to learn to like some foods, so foods are served over and over until they can be enjoyed. This wisdom is not limited to the French, of course, but perhaps it is more universally practiced there. A friend of mine recently told me about a book called Child of Mine: Feeding with Love and Good Sense by Ellyn Satter. The idea is that parents can control what they serve and when they serve it, but not how much a child eats. The parent sets out breakfast, lunch, snacks and dinner. The child chooses from what the parent offers, but if they do not eat then they have to wait until the next meal. My friend swears this works.

3. Meals are an event to be savored and shared, not a rushed experience.
French children are taught to sit still and eat well. This takes time, but consistently practiced, works. Last weekend we were in Seattle eating lunch at a nice restaurant. I looked around me and was pleased to observe that there were not wild children running everywhere, but were eating well with their families, mine were too. Perhaps Druckerman was observing her own child when writing about sitting down for meals, but my observation is that children generally are controlled at mealtimes.

4. The last point, and most helpful, that I'll take from this book is that in America we have two magic words: please and thank you, while the French have four: s'il vous plait (please), merci (thank you), bonjour (hello), and au revoir (good-bye). She write "Please and thank you are necessary, but not nearly sufficient. Bonjour and au revoir - and bonjour in particular - are crucial." French expect their children to say bonjour, and with confidence, because it is the first part of a relationship. Adults are supposed to say bonjour to each other, too. It signals that there will be a civilized encounter and in greeting someone we are recognizing them as a person. This point really hit home with me. I've observed my son shrug off hellos by adults. When he does this I am embarrassed, but rarely follow up on it. Now I will. I can't stand the "shadowy presence", as Druckerman calls it, that children have in America. They need to acknowledge others because it recognizes them and their relationship. Also, according to Druckerman, "When you say bonjour, it shows that someone has invested in your upbringing and that you're going to play by some basic social rules." To earn the dreaded label" badly brought up" is to be avoided.

There was so much more in this book than what I have pulled from it here, and it is definitely worth reading, even if you may object to the notion that the French trump Americans in the parenting world. There was an opinion piece in The New York Times recently where Jennifer Conlin writes about returning to America after living in France, and how difficult it is to uphold French parenting standards in a culture that does not support them. If all the parents at the park are handing out snacks at 10AM you're child will expect one too. School systems are different here, extra-curricular events are different too. We live in different worlds with different support systems and social expectations.

Thank you, Pamela Druckerman, for the entertaining and enlightening read!