After I had Ben, someone gave me their copy of Pamela Druckerman's Bringing Up Bébé, the American take on French mommying.
Of course, the French way of doing things makes any American feel inadequate. French children always eat new foods (Ben will eat four things). French children sleep through the night at two months (Ben is two years old and he usually wakes me up at some point). French children never misbehave (well, duh, a toddler doesn't always behave . . . right?)
Today I was watching Netflix's Call My Agent! a rather funny French series about the acting biz in Paris. An actress had two babies in three years. Her agent visits her at home, trying to coax her to come back to work. She is feeding her three year old, begging her to try the baby carrots. Her daughter's mouth is firmly closed, refusing to take a bite. The mother gives in, plucking another option from the fridge.
There is no mention on the show that this is an aberration, that she is a sucky mommy. It is simply presented as . . . kids are kids.
I found this to be profoundly comforting.
In the end, there are few cases where generalizations apply. People are different. People parent differently. Kids are born with their own natures. It has nothing to do with nationality. People are people all over.
People like generalizations, though. It makes life simpler. But it makes us more judgy.
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