America, Joy of parenting, Life, Life in France

Cultural differences in parenting


Boy Blue

My son has started speaking French! 

He has said lait (milk), oh la la (very important), and oui (yes).  He hasn’t started to say no in English or French like the girls did.  No was pretty much one of the very first words that the girls said.  It is still one of their favorite words unfortunately. 

That brings me to rest of my post…

Parenting in France is not the same as in America.  In France, the children almost never act up in public and are mature.  I hate it when we are in public and our children are more active than the other children.  It is embarrassing to go to the grocery with them.  Everyone stares because they are running and playing.  The kids are having fun.  They aren’t really out of control but they aren’t exactly walking next to us in silence either. 

When we first went to the grocery in America after moving back I felt calm at the grocery.  I didn’t feel like I needed to yell at them every two minutes to settle them down because someone was giving us that look.  If you are a parent of rambunctious children you know the look I am talking about. 

Replaced by that look was men smiling big happy smiles rubbing my kids heads.  Older women would stop and tell them they were cute and full of energy (like it was a good thing).  People in America seem to enjoy that kids are kids.  It is accepted that kids will be kids.  Kids are not little adults.

Having said that I don’t want it to be said that I think French kids should be treated like American kids.  Not at all.  I think each culture is different and that is ok.  I am sure French kids are as happy as American kids.  

My point is that I am lost as to how to parent as a French mother.  I am not a French mother.  I was raised by an American mother and father.  I only know how to parent the American way.

Are my kids going to come out o.k.?  Will the French school system work out this glitch for me?  

I try not to worry about it too much.  However, it is hard not to at times like in the grocery store.  During these times, I hate myself for not being able to get my kids to walk quietly next to me.  I worry that I am letting them down as a mother because I am American.

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