Even long before I moved to France or became pregnant, people recommended I read Pamela Druckerman's book, Bringing up Bébé. I've read other stuff by her and was kinda meh on it, so I wasn't exactly rushing to pick up a copy of her French baby/parenting book.
Then I moved to France and got pregnant and decided that reading the book would be an interesting experiment. How much does what she writes/observes track with what I'm seeing in my daily life? Thirteen years after the book was published, how much of it is still accurate?
Bringing up Bébé proves that like anything in France, one individual's experience won't be identical to another's. While I found some of Druckerman's observations/comments outdated or problematic (mostly those having to do with weight and men), I was surprised that much of what she had to say resonated with me.
The Essence of French Parenting: La Pause
Druckerman gives names to two concepts of French parenting that she observes that are starkly different from those practiced by American/Anglophone parents.
Concept one is what she terms "la pause." Essentially, French parents take a beat before responding to their babies, which apparently allows French babies "faire ses nuits" by the age of three months.1
The idea of the pause tracks with other things I've read about helping babies sleep through the night — baby is learning how to sleep and for a while will have a lot more active sleep cycles than an adult. They may move, make noise, etc during these active cycles, which a lot of parents interpret as baby waking up. Giving the child a few seconds to settle will prevent the parent from actually disrupting their sleep.2
Another interesting thing about baby sleep is that they haven't yet learned to connect their cycles. Most adults will briefly wake between sleep cycles, but for people who don't have sleep disorders, they'll pretty much instantly fall back asleep and won't remember the waking period the next day. Babies can't yet do that, and having parents rush in to check on them or pick them up during that waking period can actually prevent them from learning how to connect their cycles.
My baby’s only been around for a few weeks, but so far I have noticed that he has a period where he’s moving and making weird noises, but is still sleeping. I try not to bother him during those periods, but it can be hard not to take a peek and see what’s going on every time I hear a little sound. So
Druckerman also argues that the pause helps children learn that, well, you can't always get what you want. Frustration is part of life, and the sooner children learn that, the more resilient they become.
This isn't to say that the French neglect their children or expect them to overcome extreme obstacles. It's more that they recognize the importance of self-sufficiency and autonomy and try to transfer that onto their children.
Of course, teaching children self-sufficiency from a young age (obviously, aligned with a child's development and abilities for that age) has benefits for parents too. Before getting pregnant, I read a lot of parenting books written by US-based people. And let me tell you, they were absolutely depressing.
I don't remember the title of the book (maybe it was “All Joy and No Fun”?), but in it a mother expressed shock when her child's doctor recommended playing with the child less, just 15 minutes a day. The mom thought she had to play with the child at all times. And then there are US parents who talk about gentle parenting and basically like chaining themselves to their distressed children. Reading that, I was like, that can't be the way to do things. There has to be the option of opting out of that martyrdom.
Druckerman is quick to describe French moms who seem happy and separate from their children. Their identities haven't become "Mom" in the same way that US mothers (supposedly) tend to let their personhood fade into the background.
The Essence of French Parenting Part 2: Le Cadre
The next concept that Druckerman describes is "le cadre," or the frame. Essentially, this is a way of saying that French people give their children boundaries but "anything goes" once they are within that boundary. An example is letting a child pick out their outfit when they're in the house, and letting them wear whatever. But then setting the limit that when the family goes out, the child must be dressed appropriately (#Frenchpeopledon'twearsweatpants3).
Another example of the cadre may be seen with food. I have to be honest, as someone who enjoys making food, but who was also so, so picky as a child, I am very nervous about my child's eating habits. The US approach to children's diets seems to be to just accept that kids won't eat anything except the most bland and ultra processed stuff (breaded chicken, anyone?). Quite frankly, I don’t want to give my kids that stuff.
The French take a different approach, and actually introduce vegetables to babies first when introducing solid foods. The pediatrician in the French parenting book we bought highly recommends bringing in vegetables before fruit, as the kids are going to love fruit but then not want the vegetables.4
I'm not really sure what the recommended eating schedule is in the US, but it seems to involve a lot of plain grains and carbs.5
Anyway, obviously, people in France realize that kids may not accept vegetables right off the bat. So the boundary is often, we (the parents) choose the food, while the child decides how much they eat. A bite will suffice, there's no forcing a toddler to sit in front of a plate of green beans for hours until they eat every single one.
Not every parent in France does this, at least, not with food. I will just say that I know of several people who are picky French adults and who are hesitant/refuse to eat vegetables.
The Big Names in French Parenting: Rousseau and Dolto?
Druckerman notes that child-raising in France is primarily inspired by two people: Jean-Jacques Rousseau (notably his Emile) and Francoise Dolto, a pediatrician and psychoanalyst who died in 1988.
I'm going to skip over Rousseau, because I don't really want to talk about him.
I'd never heard of Dolto before, so I asked Aléric about her. His reaction? He used the word pedophile.
Huh. Maybe I don't want to take advice from her then? (Never mind the fact that she was a psychoanalyst). But it turns out the pedophile thing is a misunderstanding, at least per her website.
So what was Dolto's deal? Mainly that children are little people and deserve the same respect and rights as full-grown adults. Also, babies can hear and understand what you say, much sooner than you think. So it's important to talk to them and explain things. And also to respect their autonomy.
I don't know how relevant Emile and Dolto still are to people raising kids in France. I know that some "American" concepts have started to make their way over here, such as "positive parenting." My landlady told me her nephew is using positive parenting, which means he never says no to his toddler-age daughter. She said this with a laugh and a shake of the head, as if to imply she thinks it's absolutely ridiculous.
Overlapping Philosophies
While reading Bringing up Bébé, I noticed that a lot of what Druckerman was saying about the French style of parenting overlapped with the Montessori method, which encourages independence and autonomy from a young age.
When using Montessori with your baby, you're encouraged to speak to them, using real words and language and not babyese. You may describe what you're doing and even solicit your baby's input. Babies and children are given plenty of freedom to explore and figure out the world around them.
The French Pregnancy Experience
So onto the experience of being pregnant in France, Druckerman's versus my own. I don't know when exactly she had her babies, but she's almost 13 years older than me, and mentions having had her children in her late thirties. The book came out in 2012. So I'm going to guess that she was first pregnant maybe 20ish years ago.
I think a lot has changed since her time being pregnant and now. Also, it's worth noting that she gave birth in Paris, first in a private clinic and next at a public hospital (she had twins the second time). She mentions there being less input from the birthing parent in the process, that she was expected to labor on her back, knees bent, and that the epidural was par for the course.
My experience is a lot more flexible. I'm giving birth in Toulouse, at a private clinic.6 I'm encouraged to create a birth plan (projet de naissance) and my clinic has a natural birthing room, complete with a birth ball and tub. The epidural is still common, but more and more women are opting to not have one. I’m going to try not to have one, but remain open to the option if I really need it.7
Then there's the restrictions. Druckerman's right in that French women don't really drink or smoke. I've also noted that there's an expectation from others that you won't be drinking while pregnant—options sans alcool are the default for pregnant women.
But I do feel that things are more relaxed here than in the US. My gynecologist has barely mentioned food restrictions, and I don't really feel like asking, because I find the whole thing to be kind of annoying. I mean, obviously, avoid undercooked food, raw cheese/milk products8, and be sensible. But there's like an obsession with it over in the US that I found really uncomfortable.
The Big Difference Between French and American Parenting
Childcare in the US is astronomically expensive, so pricey that some parents decide that it's more economical to stop working for pay and stay home to care for their children.
That's not the case in France, where child care, whether it's in a creche, with an assistant maternelle, or even a nounou (nanny) is subsidized (based on your household income, I mean). The creche is also seen as an opportunity to socialize your child from a young age, encouraging them to develop emotional intelligence and empathy. Even if they aren't working for pay, many parents opt to send their child to some sort of child care at least a few times a week. L'ecole maternelle, or preschool, starts at age 3 and is (I think) mandatory.
Druckerman sings the praises of the creche, because she managed to nab a spot for all three of her children. I'm a little more pessimistic that we'll be able to get a spot for our kid (it's tough), but am hoping to put them into some form of child care, eventually. In the US, this isn't even something I'd consider.
Dated, Sexist Advice
Some of the advice Druckerman doles out and the things she says are super problematic.
Let's start with weight. I dunno, maybe because she's Gen X, she's like obsessed with it. She describes how Frenchwomen are strongly encouraged to bounce back after pregnancy and focuses a lot on the idea of maintaining a figure. There's lots of little comments about Frenchwomen not eating the cake and passing that self-control down to their children.
Then there's her advice about men and sharing household chores post-baby. She more or less says that this is a battle Frenchwomen have ceded. That they expect their men to basically be big babies, incapable of doing tasks around the home. Druckerman's advice is to just give up, and "treat men like a separate species."
What. What. I mean, oof. This is offensive on so many levels. It assumes that (French)men are incompetent and somewhat stupid.
Fortunately, this advice doesn't seem to be the norm. One of the little booklets I got encouraged finding a way to share tasks after baby arrives. Notably, it mentioned that since the person giving birth usually also has to do all the feeding (if they decide to breastfeed), then the partner should take on full responsibility for another baby task, such as changing diapers.
I mentioned this to Aléric, and now I call him Captain Couche. I don't mean to say that I'll never change a diaper, but he's thinking about them a lot more than I am.9
The Bottom Line on Bringing up Bébé
My tl;dr on the book is that I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought. Although some of it is dated and problematic, the advice is more or less solid, especially for people raising their children in France.
I think this is probably a bit too optimistic, and modern French pediatricians understand that not every baby will be a good sleeper by 4 months.
I want to finesse this a bit and note that “baby making noise” isn’t the same as “baby crying.” French doctors aren’t encouraging parents to leave their newborn (<3 months) baby crying. If the baby cries, go to them.
They do, I know, they do.
This is also the recommendation in my son’s Carnet de Santé, bring in the vegetables before anything else.
Unless you do baby-led weaning, which appeals to me, but who knows how realistic that is?
Actually, that’s not at all what happened. Stay tuned.
Spoiler alert: I ended up getting the peridural.
Raw milk cheeses often have a picture of a pregnant woman with a slash through it on the packaging.
And since the baby has arrived, Aléric has fully embraced his destiny as Captain Couche.