Yes, these are (very young) adults and not teenage girls. However, teens are going to see this ad and assume it’s for them. They just are. Just like when we started reading Seventeen magazine at 13. Or was I the only one sneaking peeks at that at the dentist’s office?

Yes, this is a commercial for a costume store. Of course they’re going to show homemade costumes in an unfavorable light. They want you to plunk down $40 for an Alice in Sluttyland outfit, not make it at home!

Yes, Sexy Witch, Sexy Cop, and Sexy Pirate are your results when Googling Women’s costumes. Actually, I Googled “top women’s costumes” and got Sexy Cleopatra, Sexy Oktoberfest Girl, and – no lie – Sexy Freddy Krueger.

But: I do not like this ad, Party City. Besides perpetuating the Sexy Halloween epidemic, it’s just mean. I want to hug poor Alice. She does not deserve ostracization just because of a half-assed outfit. Actually, let me rephrase that: She does not deserve ostracization JUST BECAUSE SHE DOES NOT HAVE HALF HER ASS HANGING OUT. This makes me sad. It also makes me really, really proud that my daughters are going as Hermione Granger and a werewolf.  However, the sexy costumes are here to stay. So, in the spirit of embracing modern Halloween…

Submitted for your approval: My favorite “Sexy Halloween Costumes That Didn’t Need to Be Sexified”.  I will take votes as to which one I should buy and wear while I walk my kids around in suburbia.

And, sorry, but you can’t un-see this one…

I’ll take your votes in the comments.

Also, if your kid is going as something you’re particularly proud of this year, share it here! 

I’m also an irrational disliker  of modern country music. I’ve tried, I swear. Please comment with a country song that will change my mind. I dare you. 

Through the wonders of my Discover Weekly list on Spotify, I’ve recently played to death enjoyed three psudo-country songs that share a beautiful common thread: Not fitting in. Whether they were judged and found wanting, or are just not measuring up to societal standards, these are musical offerings staring folks who don’t give a rip if you like them or not. And they’re country-ish at the least. BOOM. Horizons expanded.

Give a listen!

Elle King’s “America’s Sweetheart”

This is the 7th track off Elle’s Feb. 2015 album Love Stuff. Despite a handful of kind of cliched phrases in the verse, this is raucous anthem for girls who don’t feel the need to behave like perfect ladies. I also dig this because I, too, amfunny when I’m drunk (I think), and, unrelated, just aquired a stupid tiny chip in my front tooth. You just want to do a shot of whiskey and sing along with Elle here.

I also adore “Ex’s and Oh’s” from this album. Good stuff, Love Stuff.

Kacey Musgraves “Cup of Tea”

This is just a sweet little song that coos at you not to fear the blotches on your permanent record. The variety of sins and shortcomings listed are relateable but and entertaining. She reminds us that “We’ve all got the right to be wrong.” in a way that grants anyone permission to have hope, even if they’ve screwed up. Hey, I’ve screwed up! Sweet! “You can’t be be everybody’s up of tea”. Musgraves shakes off any judgement at the her final lyric, asking “Why would you wanna be?”

Her video for her song “Biscuits” is freakin’ infections and involves a puppet, in case you were wondering.

Josh Ritter’s “Getting Ready to Get Down”

This catchy song addresses some narrow-minded Christians forgetting that they know no more than anyone else, failing to leave the judging to God, and screwing with young people’s heads. It’s a little bit in the vein of Billy Joel’s “Only the Good Die Young”. The girl to whom Josh is singing is sent away to bible college because she’s not fitting in with her town’s conservative ideals. Instead of coming around to their ways, she ends up absorbing all the acceptance and love messages in the Good Book, and none of the “Thou Shalt Not”s. Although I don’t presume to know Ritter’s feelings on certain major social issues of today, his lyric “Give your love freely to whomever that you please” hints at it nicely.

Plus, there is an official LINE DANCE to this song, people.

As you get quickly older and slowly wiser, you learn that whether some people like you has very little do with YOU. Thankfully there are pleasant songs like these to remind us. For instance, I have clearly judged country music unfairly. I’m sorry. There was all that association with confederate flags on the back of pick-up trucks.  However, Hubby has already requested I put in earbuds while working on this post.

Convince me that it’s not all honky-tonk bars and cowboy boots. What is your favorite “country” song?

If you have no idea why I’m getting a compact version of the A. E. D. shocky things they have in public buildings put inside my body, read these:

What the Hell is This Crap: Discovering Your Heart Is a Wuss

S%@# My Students Say About Cardiomyopathy

Wow I Must Be LUCKY: Sort of Failing Heart Tests

There were a bunch of tests I had, to qualify for this newfangled device – and I passed them! And I didn’t even study! I wish that my own awesomeness had to do with this, but it has more to do with luck and something called T-waves. I learned that I don’t need a pacemaker at this time.

This one is off to the side, can use cell phone technology to monitor 24/7 if need be, and doesn’t actually go into the heart. This last perk eliminates the risk of infection or complications of having the “old” kind, that used a wire that as placed directly inside the heart. Boston Scientific makes it, and they are very proud to brag explain about it here on their website. There is even a slick video. This is pretty cool. The downside?

They have to stop your heart for a minute during the implant procedure, and let the ICD shock you “back to life”.

You know, just to make sure it works. I am not particularly “ok” with this. But there are worse things, right?

So I’m getting this lovely thing installed on January 5th. It’s an overnight or so in the hospital, bedrest for a couple days, and restrictions on movement and carrying stuff with my arm for a month. No horn playing. Boo. But, I will get to extend my Christmas break by going back in for one day to put ducks in a row, then being out the rest of the week.

“Yay…” for killing sick days. Sincere “YAY!” for getting in a permanent state of “safer” with this heart nonsense.

Also, YAY for Netflix. Cause there will be much Netflixing.

So, that’s the update. Please tell me what I should binge watch that week, after I get my new gadget, in the comments. And wish me luck. While grateful to get this done, I’m not exactly un-nervous.

You can do whatever you like in your own house, of course. And if I don’t like a store’s policy of putting out Christmas decor or playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving, I don’t need to shop there. Oh wait, it’s Target and Walmart mostly, so yes, I do. But anyway. If it makes people happy, who am I to want them to delay their happiness?

However, I want to get up on my non-tinseled soapbox and explain why there is no Christmas music or decorations in my house before the turkey has had his due.

• Because I love Christmas. I love it so very much, and I don’t want it to lose its meaning or specialness by stretching it out earlier and thinner.
• I have an almost spiritual relationship with Christmas music (said the corniest dork in the world) and I don’t want to hate it because I hear it too much. Please. Occupational hazard: We music teachers start our Christmas concert rehearsals in September. Ugh.
• It’s not “the most wonderful time of the year” if it’s like 1/4 of the calendar.
• The pushing-it-earlier thing really seems to be mostly about consumerism. You can see this in the big controversy of whether stores should be open for Christmas shopping on Thanksgiving. I vote “no”, but with gratitude for anyone who is there for me to buy Tums or cooking supplies I forgot to get the day before. Love you. Hope you get off early. 
• The giving part of Christmas isn’t emphasized in the earliness much, it seems. I’ve seen lots of ads for flat screens and toys, but not one Salvation Army bell ringer person yet. We have taken gift suggestions off the giving tree at work, though.
• Remember the “War on Christmas”? I also embrace it as a cultural holiday that doesn’t need to have anything to do with religion, if you want to tar and feather me for that while we’re here. Shouldn’t we be outraged about a lack of (Christian, or whatever) gratitude?

• My BIG (hippie, buzz-kill, left-wing, Scrooge) reason: This is very “Ugly American” to me. We are sweeping under the rug the holiday in which we celebrate the cooperation with and gratitude towards the native people who made it possible for European settlers to, oh, I don’t know, not DIE, and the only holiday for pausing to recognize that we are SO. DAMN. LUCKY to be alive and well. We should push for more GIVING in the “Thanksgiving”, too. I’m working on that in my own home this year, slowly but surely, I swear.

All of that is some important S#*T!  That is not Christmas Part 1!! I go on little rants about this to my own children and they stare blankly and think I’m weird. 

In your own home, you should do what you want. I will roll my eyes when I drive by your tree-filled window, and you can roll your eyes at this post. Whatevs. Nobody is over here telling me when to do stuff. Except the smoke alarms. The fire department is pretty keen on us checking those every time we celebrate Daylight Savings. 

Christmas is awesome. There are traditions and parties and special moments that are like yearly spiritual renewing in our busy lives. It’s a connection to our childhood and a stepping stone into the future as we build traditions with our kids that they will remember just as fondly.

But we owe it to the universe to emphasize the importance of truly counting our blessings first. That’s all.

Before we settle into the debate about when it’s acceptable to listen to Christmas music (Thanksgiving evening. Period.), we should discuss what to do with all that candy. Is this even a question? Eat it. Oh, you mean for the KIDS? Some parents allow their kids only “a couple” of pieces Halloween night and then ration 1-or-2-a-day for a month or two afterward. And snack on it themselves. Yes, we’re on to you. Some parents figure it’s a holiday, and let the kids have the bucket for the night or day afterwards, and most of the sugar-laden junk is gone in a day or so. After Mommy and Daddy have dipped in to take their “parent tax”. Yes, we’re on to you, too. 

Hubby and I are in the latter camp. Actually we’re in BOTH camps, as far as eating their candy goes. When we get home from Trick-or-Treating, everybody’s usually tired and just about ready to crash into bed. We let the girls have freedom with the pumpkin bucket for 24 hours or so, then it goes “away” and the remaining candy is seldom asked for anyway. We feel like it’s a special day and the rules should be stretched on such occasions. So yes, we let them eat like 50 pieces of candy over the course of a day. We eat an undisclosed amount ourselves in that time. Then it’s out of our lives, except for the random pieces nobody wants. They get thrown out when I clean out the pantry over Christmas break.

It turns out, we’re RIGHT! Ha! I love being right! I also love this article, and its mention that 10 beers will wash away stubborn gummy candy lodged in adult teeth, too.  Let Kids Gorge On Halloween Candy, Dentists Say

My other justification for letting them rot their insides one day a year is that, if we ration it, it’s just going to be around longer to tempt them and me. And it’s just one more thing I would have to monitor.

Obviously, you do what works in your house. All I know is Halloween is one fun, long day – and usually involves me plodding down the street, hypocritically telling them “No, I will not carry your heavy bucket, that is YOUR candy, you can carry it.” I need no more to do than I already have.

I am too busy carrying my own sustenance.

How about you? “Eat ALL the candy!!” or save it to be savored later?

I’m not one for those “here’s what’s happening in my mundane life” blog posts (God I hope) but this is kind of important. Definitely worthy of the sick day taken in September. If the % doesn’t go up enough, I get to have a nice metal doo-hicky implanted in me that will shock my heart if it stops beating. Which it’s much more likely to do, if it’s not doing its thing well.

Have you ever been slightly freaked out by how much you’re not freaked out by something? That part about ‘possible implanted metal and heart-shocking gear’ sounds a tad alarming… and yet during my work day today I forgot three or four times that I had to leave sub plans and prepare to take off to go to the hospital tomorrow. Duh.  I kept thinking it was going to be a regular Tuesday morning. I’ve been too busy living my nice little life to worry about this crap lately. The start of fall and the school year has been easy and fun; after one hiccup hubby landed a very nice new job (more about that later), the girls are good and life is kind of chill. Plus I honestly feel exponentially better than I did last fall, when I had no idea I was sick. It’s a blessing when you forget that you might wanna worry about something after all.

The preliminary appointment for this test was Friday and things looked good. I had kind of forgotten that they’d do another heart function test in the first place. I sort of assumed this stupid thing was winding down now. Then they switched my meds and reminded me that blah blah blah 1. I’m still a fainting risk, and now, moreso. 2. I need to schedule alarms 4 times a day to space all these meds out so I don’t faint, and 3. Why haven’t I bought a wrist blood pressure monitor to carry around yet like they told me to, just in case? Ummmm because it doesn’t match my purse? My morbid specialist guy also called earlier to reminded me “no coffee or no lotions on the skin on test day, and by the way: If you fail this it’s surgery time”.   

Dammit man, I was busy wondering where we’ll go on vacation and when the next season of House of Cards is out. Stahp. 

These guys are paid to worry. I’m gonna let them worry for me. I’m not going to say I have a good feeling about this thing, because you just don’t tempt fate like that, but…

Evening is no good. After the girls are in bed it is hubby time. Or at least couch time.  I have tried working out in the morning. My body doesn’t “do” morning. I have tried walking at lunch, at school. Cause I have nothing else to do, and returning to my afternoon classes all sweaty is so professional. All these workout plans crashed and burned didn’t work out.

Well, in case you missed it, Hell must have frozen over last month, because I joined a gym.

In August I got results back from a V02 stress test (I have “heart issues, ICYMI. Explained here.) The meds I’m on for this cause lower blood pressure and increase sweating, so I get all clammy-skinned and soaked. I know I’m sexy, you don’t have to say it. Despite having lower heart function, aerobically, or something, I worked out and breathed pretty much as a well as a normal person and have a “very good 5-year prognosis”. That does not mean I was expected to die of congestive heart failure in five years. That’s just how they say it – “How likely are you to die of this soon?” For me: very unlikely. I could resume my exercise routine now, and try to reconstruct cardiovascular strength. Wait, I had that? 

Actually, yeah, I (kind of) did. I’d done a Couch-to-5K app the whole way through, run several “virtual 5K’s” where you do the run alone and report your time (through The Fat Girls’ Guide to Running – site here) and allowed myself to be the sweaty, disgusting heavy chick at the back of the pack exactly ONCE in an actual a local 5K.

The gym I agreed to pay to sweat at is one of the more expensive ones around, almost four times as much as the usual chain ones. My theory is that if I paid that much I will feel crazy-guilty if I don’t go, as opposed to the $10 a month that I wouldn’t miss. Included in the monthly price are several class times a week for Zumba, Spinning, Yoga, Water Workout, TRX, BeachBody, Cross-Training, Weight Lifting, and something called Aerial Yoga – which is, as far as I can tell, a Cirque de Solei-inspired method of breaking your neck. I have no plans of attending these yet. I am a lone wolf, thankyouverymuch. Also included is a personal trainer who works with you once a month to design a routine you’ll follow at the gym, teach you how to use all the torture devices weight-training and cardio machines, and switch things up so you develop different muscle groups and don’t burn out. In theory.

You also meet with an R. N. monthly for a very dignified weighing, measuring, and strength-testing session. This was not as scary as it initially sounded. So far. Nor did it feel particularly dignified. The gym is extremely clean, cool, and the locker room is a little spa-esque. They play Sirius 80’s or 90’s radio. The pool looks lovely and family are welcome to swim on Sundays year-round.

Guest passes are a thing. The childcare room is big and well-stocked. And has a Game Cube so the girls get their little fix for the day. And, best of all, there are a few chubby middle-aged moms and older folks mixed in with the pretty people who don’t look like they need a gym. All this is lovely. But I seriously picked this gym for no other reason than its location, directly on my way home from workn – so I will have zero excuse to skip it and drive to Taco Bell. 

Why am I running an advertisement on the blog for this gym? (I’m not. If you want to know which one, email or message me.) But if I blog it I have to do it, right?

One hopes. The $$ per month doesn’t hurt my motivation either.  But then there’s the fine print. (And I’m not talking about the gym contract.)

Before I had kids a fellow teacher told me, as we were looking at a poorly-behaved set of siblings, that their mother was a teacher and therefore they should be better behaved. But, she explained, she left them in after-school care and went to the gym after her school day, and between doing her own teacher work after school, and her workout, she didn’t pick them up until *gasp* 5:30 some nights. This was the explanation for the kids being brats? Mommy stayed late and did her work and then took an hour+ for herself daily, so naturally the kids were suffering? I bought it, sadly. And it instilled in me enough guilt to rule that option out for years.

My kidlets are starting after school care this year, after having been home with Nana (Thank you, Nana!) in years past. So far it looks like a pretty tightly-run program with has beautiful toys, homework help, and special events monthly. The girls given me sad eyes when I came to pick them up. Yes it’s a long day. The guilt is strong with this one, and it needs to knock it off. But I am going to fight the guilt and take an hour+, several days a week, and do this for me. And my hips. I’ll get them by 5:00 at the very latest, every day. I will have taken time for myself, blasting my gym playlist (of course, and it will probably change monthly too), and I will have done cardio, a round of three sets of 15 reps on each of the 10 machines I’ve been ‘assigned’ this month, and then some more cardio. I will hopefully be renewed and ready to be Mommy all evening.

And I will be nice and sweaty.

Oh and here’s the playlist:

MY EARS ARE BLEEDING.

The ceiling speakers are loudly playing a list that alternates between Laurie Berkner, The Wiggles, and Kidz Bop. I don’t hate Laurie. I will after our two hours here. But the rest of it is pretty much creating a “Kill. Me. Now.” situation over here on the Uninvolved Mommy benches. And that’s just unnecessary. 

Disclaimer: I am an elementary music teacher. I’m not going to pretend that 12 years of this (awesome) job automatically makes me an expert in children’s music. Parenthood will do that for  you just fine, anyway. It does, however, make me opinionated about the subject. There is experience, research, and Master classes talking here. And they’re opinionated too.#sorrynotsorry

Parents, teachers, child-centered businesses, I beseech you: Play actual music for your children. Please.

Kidz Bop is only good for elementary school pep rallies when you want to seem cool enough to play music the kids will recognize, but not lose your job from parental complaints. There’s nothing wrong with pop – I love it. But I think it’s better to play the actual artist whenever you can. If you can’t, there’s a good chance the song isn’t a fabulous pick for kids anyway, even edited with words that rhyme with the objectionable stuff and vocals by (what sounds like) freaky castrati.

Laurie Berkner does some nice stuff; a few covers of folk songs and mostly songs about kid stuff. I like her acoustic approach and she’s a decent vocal model for children (they can match her voice and sing along). But it all sounds pretty much the same and I can’t take more than 15 minutes without wanting to go all Pete Townsend on her guitar. 

And screw the Wiggles. Just screw ’em. I’ve been here for an hour and if one of those mates showed up to give a free concert it would take all my self control not to kick him Down Under. 

Please: Play decent recordings of folks songs. Put on “classical” (instrumental) music. There is a ton out there (See below) that is lively and engaging, the perfect sound track to imaginative play. Mix that up with pop songs that *gasp* YOU like, as long as you think they’re ok for your kids to hear.

Here’s a great CD set for this instrumental music that’s got some oomph:

“Music for Creative Movement“, GIA public (click the title to find the CD on sale).

Play music that was written for the sake of Music, not to give children something kiddie friendly to listen to. There is already so much music out there for them.

That said, I’m sure there’s some newer ones out there, but here are my favorite “children’s” albums with as little ear bleeding as possible:

“Here Come the ABCs” by They Might Be Giants

Any of Sandra Boynton’s full book albums

“Snack Time” by the Barenaked Ladies

I realize this list is pretty dated. My kids are 8 and 5, and their mommy has Spotify. (We don’t buy full kids albums anymore.)

What are some of your favorites? Have you banned any albums from your home or car?

Have you ever fantasized about dropping a certain Australian singing group to the playroom floor?

“What would you do if all the adults disappeared?”

M: Wait. Everybody? She is dumbfounded.

E: Wait, does that mean my friend _____? She thinks her 10 year old friend is an adult.

Me: No. Besides eating all the candy in the world, after that, what would you guys do?

M: We would eat a lot more candy, and play video games. So would her father.

E: Do everything. (Spins on seat.)

M: Let’s just say I’d do whatever I wanted.

E: We would erase all our stuff on that. (Pointing to chore chart.)

M: I would invite a bunch of friends over and have a party. Lots of food. And go in the pool. All night. So would I.

Me: What would you do about food?

M: We would eat it? (Ba-dum-tsss.) Oh, I mean, we would go to the store.

Me: How would you get to the store, would you walk?

M: We could drive! I know how to drive!! Well no… but I could figure it out. Wait. Who’s gonna be running the store?

Me: I don’t know… who do you think?

M: Teenagers.

Me. Ok….

E: I want to drive the car!

Me: What would you do about your clothing?

E: We would wear it.

Me: You’re hilarious.

M: We would make our own?

Me: You know how to make your own clothes?

M: We would wash them. I know how to do the laundry! Note to self, in that case, she’s gonna start doing her own.

E: I want to be like Rarity. My Little Pony reference. She makes dresses.

M: Wait – so like, ALL the adults in the world disappeared? It would be only kids on the road! And no policemen… we could speed. That would be fun. Another note to self: Maybe time to limit MarioKart tournaments at home?  …nah.

E: What if they weren’t coming back?

Me: That’s what I’m saying. What would you guys do?

M: Miss you. Awwwwww.

E: I would never get to see you!

M: It would pretty cool to get to do whatever you want though.

E: Mommy can we have candy?

So, what would the kids in your life say?

Last summer one of my first posts here admired the seemingly hands-off style of 1970’s parenting. Go back and read if you like. Kitty Foreman’s hair shaking is priceless.

Turns out, what I really needed to do was go a little Parisian.

Bringing Up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman, came up on my “must read” radar a while ago. But the sample text suddenly resonated with me after a stream of needy children continually interrupted adult conversation while having friends over for dinner one night.
“When American families visit our home, the parents usually spend much of the time refereeing their kids’ spat, helping their toddlers do laps around the kitchen island, or getting down on the floor to build LEGO villages…When French friends visit, however, we grown-ups have coffee and the children play happily by themselves.”

Though we have and know some pretty awesome kids, I identified with those poor American parents, and inpulse-bought the book.

This text is by no means some kind of revolutionary parenting ‘bible’. It’s a narrative of the American author’s marriage, her move to Paris, and her outsider’s view of the stark contrast between French and American parenting strategies. There are many research references to illustrate the preferable outcomes of the former over the latter. In later editions there is an addendum that includes her list of 100 pointers. – Druckerman calls them “keys to french parenting”. I’d call them “mini kid philosophies”.

This book explores a different overall attitude towards children: Boiled down, you can trust that a child can do things. Things like teaching himself to connect sleep his sleep cycles (without the dreaded ‘crying it out’) and genuinely sleeping through the night at 3 months (this is a very standard milestone at 3 months in France.) Or politely greeting all adults – and in doing so, taking on the behavior of a mutually respected person in the social group. Or, imagine this: self-sufficiently playing alone or with other children, without a need for parent intervention or baggies of goldfish crackers. All you tired-eyed parents who are repeatedly interrupted by your child needing stuff while you try to cook or talk to other adults– are you fascinated yet? I was. I spent July trying to get grad class work done, while my children were in pay-attention-t0-me mode during most waking hours. I wish I’d read this little philosophy book before summer. Or, like, 9 years ago.

Intertwined with the concept that a child can fend for him or herself is the ideal of balance. In other words, the mother and father absolutely cannot lose themselves in the care of their children. The sacrifice-for-the-child valor that I’ve seen so many moms tote around like merit badges does not exist in the same way, in French culture. There is no humble-bragging that you survived quitting the job your were educated for so you could stay home, breastfeeding until age two, or functioning on crappy sleep because the co-sleeping child won’t stay out of your bed. These are not accepted truths of parenting in the French model. The happiness and prosperity of the entire family – the marriage of the parents being the core of this – is valued over the needs of the child. It probably sounds ungrateful and selfish to a lot of American mothers…

And I love that! The eating and the independent playing chapters made me want to wind back the clock and do things differently with my kids. However, we’re working on it now. Already this summer we’ve expanded the girls’ vegetable horizons . Hey family: E eats Brussels sprouts now, and there is no crying! Almost every other section had me saying out loud, to nobody, “Yes! What have I been saying!?!” Disclaimer: I’m going to quote Amy Poehler’s peace mantra of “Good for her, not for me”, but, here’s an example: In my family, kids are not welcome in our bed unless it is family hang-out or reading time. That is our bed, our sleeping and couple space, and we like it that way. Grown-ups time is sacred, even if it really is just “Netflix and Chill”.

Major points of “Bringing Up Bebe”’s message:

• Sleep: Babies are just little, rational people and can be helped along and taught. French babies sleep thought the night 7+ hours around 3 months old. Yes, that is what I said. This is because of a parenting instinct common in France, referred to as “The Pause”. It is not Ferber or any of the crying-it-out methods. That‘s viewed as a little distasteful.
• Breastfeeding: Nursing is encouraged in France. But, formula is viewed as pretty much a same-same alternative. (A couple American moms reading this just gasped. Meanwhile, I’m over here like, “Thank you God.”) If breastfeeding isn’t mechanically working out, or Mom went back to work (she did this earlier because of quality childcare, see below), or it was interfering with the overall happiness of the family – it stops. Studies linking breastfeeding to improved health and intellectual outcomes have been all but discredited and results attributed to other factors. French mommies know this (more than American moms, for sure) and proceed to feed formula and have bright, healthy kids. Imagine.
• Eating: From about 4 months old, baby food is not in jars, but is rather a ground-up version of whatever (vegetable-heavy) dinner Mom and Dad are having. Dinner is served in three courses, even at home, with veggies served first – when kids are most hungry. (They have one snack a day. Not one at every activity and in baggies in the car on the way there.) Kids are expected to try everything on their plate, but amounts are not designated and rewards for eating are out of the question. They just try it, and are are trusted to eat what will sustain them. Meals are not a power struggle, but an important and social time. Children are (ideally) included as respected members in a balanced conversation – not the center of attention when they finally try that piece of broccoli or they want to sing a song. Gadgets at restaurant tables are unheard of. (Thank you.)
• Snack: Snacktime is pretty standard, mid-late afternoon, and includes some junk food – possibly that the child helped bake him or herself. Food is not a reward or a distraction. Hunger is not usually offered as an explanation for cranky behavior. Because other meals are healthier (not chicken nuggets, pizza, burger, repeat), chocolate is seen as a wonderful snacktime item. Kids are sometimes given a bar of chocolate on a baguette – hot dam! Also, denying the existence of sugar is just stupid. (That last part is my own bit.)
• Social Skills: Children should greet everyone in a social setting, to take their place as a member of the group there (where they must act like it – no coloring on the walls or pulling out every tissue at friends’ houses). From Mommy’s friends to clerks at the store, kids greet other kids and adults, period.
• Learning: The “earlier is better” philosophy that prevails in America, so that kids can get an edge and defeat the competition – to get into the better preschool or score better on the standardized tests – isn’t nearly as present in France. Probably because preschool is a given and testing isn’t as big a deal. Kids are trusted to “get it” in their own time, many children not beginning to learn to read until age six. Likewise, the constant stream of activities and sports, intended to better the child and give them everything the parent didn’t have, isn’t as accepted either. If a mother who is basically a “mom taxi” is looked down upon as someone who has lost the balance in her life. (Hallelujah. If you’re complaining about your kids’ scheduled activities, why haven’t you de-scheduled some of them?) Having multiple kids in multiple activities is recognized as potentially harming the quality of family life, so it isn’t the standard way. (Can I get a ‘Hell YES’?)
• Go Play: Children are trusted to be able to entertain themselves and enjoy doing so. Family time exists pretty much daily and it is awesome. But Adult Time is not their time. Likewise, they do no need to hear that every drawing is ‘excellent’ and every dance step ‘the best ever’. All kinds of therapy bills come from this practice.
• Couple Time: *This one is my favorite* The quality of the relationship between Mom and Dad (or whoever) is the foundation of the family. The needs of the children do not trump the needs of the couple. No, really. There is little to no co-sleeping, because that bed is Mommy and Daddy’s space. “Bedtime” means kids stay in their rooms and eventually go to sleep, though generally they are allowed to play or read until they’re ready to sleep. Mommy and Daddy must have time to be themselves, as a couple, without kids interrupting. “Date night”, is not really a thing, because romance and sex are very highly valued in French culture, and the fact that the couple has couple time out & about and alone is a given. Mommy and Daddy probably don’t share parenting and household responsibilities equally, but there is a division of tasks, and appreciation for the other’s contributions is (hopefully) shown privately, and modeled for the kids.
• Childcare: The “creche” is state funded and almost every child goes. It is not the dreaded day care situation that stay at home moms detest in America. Workers are skilled, enjoy long-term job security, and are paid well. Even moms who do not work often send their toddlers to the creche, for everybody’s benefit. Mommy gets her groove back – getting to work out and see friends, in addition to having a career and contributing to the household – and baby gets social skills.

Can you tell I like this stuff? Now, I’m fully aware that this model is not solely a “French” thing. Some of these philosophies I’ve had for years, and I know friends who have executed them beautifully all along as well, in one department or another. I also know a lot of moms who would look at aspects of this and wonder why French women bother having kids at all, if they’re just going to put a bottle in their mouths and send them off to someone else’s care?

I guess the impressive aspects of this philosophy for me are balance and trust. In this country there seems to exist an unspoken social norm saying that major sacrifice for your children’s comfort and development is proof that you are a “good” parent – because childhood is fleeting and you have your whole life to talk to your friend on the phone uninterrupted for 20 minutes. I think that’s total crap. We are talking about 18+ years, here. Balance is the goal. Trust makes that happen. This is definitely a goal to work for, in my book. American levels of happiness are reported lower from parents than non-parents, and lower with the birth of each child, despite children supposedly being a major source of lifetime happiness. What’s missing? What can we do differently to feel less harried and stressed?

Maybe try a little Francais.

The book, again, is called Bringing Up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman. (Her website is HERE.)

What do you think of this? Old news (probably but not to a lot of my generation)? Selfish? Wonderful?

Do you disagree with any of these basic points? Do you practice them at home with your own kidlets?