French Children Don't Throw Food

Pamela Druckerman, looking tres French.

Have you read French Women Only Spew Glitter? No? Well, that's probably because it's not published yet, nor written but when it is I'm sure it will complete the triumvirate that started with French Women Don't Get Fat by and today's review French Children Don't Throw Food by Pamela Druckerman.

Yes, French women do it better, or so these books tell us. (At this point I would like to claim I have one-quarter French ancestry and would like to take full credit for anything they do awesomely).

Although I was put off by the divisive title and wondered what the Australian or American equivalents would be called - Slap Another Snag On The Barbie or Yes Your Kid Is Totes Awesome But My Kid Is Even More Totes Awesome - it soon becomes obvious Druckerman's claims are well-researched and she has first-hand knowledge (she is an American ex-pat who has 3 children who were born and live in France) and thus her arguments do have merit.

Druckerman explains that the American culture (and my experience would add the Australian experience here) is a culture of permissive parenting that, at times, goes too far. Neither French or Australian parents currently believe children should be seen and not heard, and they do believe they should be resilient - and this is as it should be - but they have very different ways of parenting to achieve this.

*Before I start my ranty rant rant, I'm not suggesing that whole countries of incredibly diverse and interesting and individual people all parent in the same way, nor do I want to be highly judgmental and base this on only my experience, but here is what I've observed in my five short years as Mum (and 12 years as a teacher):

 

Example One:

This past winter I booked Fred into some introductory soccer lessons with seven other four-year-olds: the company's advertisment implied exercise, team-building and developing esteem in a non-competitve environment (I was mostly sold on the idea of having some way for him to burn off steam while Mr BE was at work, his newborn brother was snuggled to my chest and we had lots of wintry, rainy weekends ahead of us).

A little bit of me shrivelled inside AFTER THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES of this 'sporty fun'. After the first lesson, it became clear how it went: each child had a go at the activity (there were about seven activities) and after every child's turn (kicking a ball off a witch's hat, or running in a particular pattern) every child received a clap. From everybody. Seven activities, ten children, each activity repeated twice: one hundred and forty sets of clapping in a lesson that only went for fifty minutes. The good parts: every child had a go, every child felt like they did well, no one was left out. The bad parts: it didn't matter WHAT they did, everyone got a clap.

I've had parents of teenagers (in parent-teacher interviews) say about their teenagers: "they expect a round of applause for everything. They won't do anything for nothing, they expect things all the time, I don't know what to do."

Well, it's a mess the adults have created.

Does anybody else see the disconnect?

In the above example it seemed like the parents were afraid that withholding the clapping was to withhold love and or prevent an opportunity for self-esteem building, yet experience teaches me that a child is much more likely to be resilient if they learn to persist despite no applause. (They're 4 - they'll kick a ball - and if they're shy, they need encouragement, not accolades).

 

Example Two:

Once upon a time (about two years ago) another two year old hit Fred at kindergym. Fred wasn't much fussed, but what was interesting was the parent's response, where she apologised to me much more than she spoke to her son and said "oh, don't hit" - but then didn't remove her child when he did it again - and said "I'm so embarrassed" when he did do it again - to Fred, to other children, to his own mother. I don't necessarily blame her. She obviously needed help. But unfotunately this has happened half a dozen other times over the last few years, just in different forms - "oh, you should share" (but the toy that has been taken away is not returned), the three-year-old child is left to 'decide' whether to return it. I'm all for letting kids sort it out themselves, but if one is wailing on the floor that would be the time to intervene (after five minutes of this rubbish Fred just snatched it back, not ideally what I'd want him to do, but still it was exactly what he'd learnt from the other mother was okay in this circumstance).

Using no framework or guidance, or waiting for kids to make the right decision on their own, all the time, is throwing out the baby with the bath water and ignoring the whole reason why wisdom comes with age. I've watched closely, and neither child-carers or teachers (in later years) do this. They step in when kids don't resolve a situation, or when they see unacceptable behaviour, and understand that kids need a framework and our experience/ wisdom to learn what is right and wrong (and that is why we have it).

Example Three:

Fred sees me and his teacher talking. He says "excuse me" and we say "in a minute". He waits. The first few times, impatiently, the next few times, he gets the idea. He doesn't like it, but he waits, and "in a minute" we are both ready to listen wholeheartedly.

On a different day, Fred sees me and another parent talking. He says "excuse me". I say "in a minute", but the other parent waits. This is nice. This is being thoughtful. Sometimes it is very hard for a five-year-old to wait for a minute, and sometimes they may have forgotten what they needed to say if they have to wait too long, or they may have wet their pants by then. But unfortunately if the adult always waits for Fred and never vice versa, on the basis of being thoughtful, Fred will never learn to wait, at all, because the behaviour won't be modelled for him. Sometimes I wonder what will happen when he is an adult and others interrupt him. Will he have ever learnt to wait?

Example Four:

I read a blog a few months back (I really can't remember whose this was so please link below if you do know so I can give the person credit). The writer was supremely frustrated that they went on a camping trip with some pre-teens who didn't help with washing up or the meal preparation - in fact, a few days in, when this mother made the effort to include them in these tasks she was met with disbelief and bad attitudes.

This is where "I'd do anything for my children" an attitude that is much admired in Australia has been twisted. As this mother showed by her example, showing love to children by taking care of their every need does not show them love at all - it just enables their disrespect for others to grow. "It's okay, I'll do it" is the modelled behaviour. Yet, on the contrary, expecting children to be part of a community, or DO TASKS THEY DO NOT WANT TO DO, shows that they are part of that community, not that they aren't loved.

***

 

Other things you may find interesting:

French Children Don't Throw Food also has information on  babies sleeping well (!) (that does not necessarily preclude exclusive breastfeeding) and eating well (their childhood obesity rate is significantly lower than Australia's).

(It worked for Joe!)

French babies do sleep more, for longer hours. However, it's not about 'controlled crying' (and it is this language choice, I think, that has most Australian parents, dismiss this theory before even trying it out), it's about waiting, and not interrupting even from infanthood. It’s not about ignoring the baby's needs, but about watching to see whether they really need something, and realising (through experience) that a lot of sleep problems stem from immediately picking them up rather than allowing them to self-sette.

In France it's common to ask if babies are 'Doing their nights yet?" Six months is considered late for a baby to not 'sleep through' and this does not necessarily prohibit full-breastfeeding, which is what we have been led to believe in Australia.

Instead, it turns out, in the need to promote breast feeding (which France does not do well), we may have lost a little bit of common sense, - some babies don't need to feed to go back to sleep, and will learn to self-settle, and aren't necessarily emotionally worse off for doing so - but in Australia we don't necessarily give them the chance (I know I didn't with my second) because as soon as they cry we immediately think they need something.  Instead, babies that are never get the opportunity to learn this often wake every two hours, up to and including school age - and their poor mothers are exhausted, and yet in Australia we see this as just the way it is (when we should be really ringing sleep-experts, who are in the phone book, just waiting for us).

Global research shows this 'need' to wake two-hourly is often a myth. Who knew?

Another interesting point Druckerman mentions is: “In a study of university-educated mothers in the US and France, the American mums said that encouraging one’s child to play alone was of average importance. But the French mums said it was very important.” (p.83).

Not that long ago, it was ridiculous to think parents needed to find something to occupy children every day of the school holidays. Children were allowed to be 'bored' or told it was our own responsibility to find something to do, yet with less siblings to play with and more options available (and more awareness about why we can't just send children off to the park by themselves) there can be 'scheduling pressure' or at least 'fun pressure'.

France's most famous parenting expert (Dolto, who launched her book in the 1960s) at times has been blamed for overly permissive parenting.  However, Druckerman explains that she has been misunderstood, and that Dolto's point that there is a difference between listening carefully, and explaining things to them, based on respect and empathy is entirely valid - but so is Dolto's point that respect for a child is not devoid of limit-setting, and that it needs to be clear who is in charge for their sense of security.

Druckerman also points out cultural differences in the understanding of the word ‘strict’ (and the impact this may have on parenting). To British and American parents (and Australian too, I think) it’s often perceived as a negative word, implying an authoritarian parenting style that hinders the child’s development. Therefore, parents can be hesitant to set limits.  However, to French parents, it is a positive word, that refers to having a framework for the child to explore from.

Druckerman says that French parents often talk about the difference between the framework (the cadre) and the 'blossoming' or 'awakening' – and that the framework allows this development. If there is no framework, and the parents only focus on the blossoming, it doesn’t work, the child struggles to build their own framework or have a sense of security - they are being denied the wisdom of their parents’experience by being asked to build everything from scratch (and which, ironically, might deny them the very thing their parents are trying to promote, by not being too prescriptive - the realisation of who they really are.  It is difficult to know who you are, or are not, if you don't ever have any opposition to realise 'this is not me', to go up against).

***

Yes, French Children Don't Throw Food shows the French are lax about breastfeeding, and send four-year-olds for week long overnight camps away from their parents, and serve chocolate bars in baguettes for snacks, but it is still a very worthwhile read.

 

Australia has many great parents (I've met them) and many people love their children but at times there is a disconnect between what love is and ensuring children are not restricted from being who they are, and enabling a disrespect of others, or a false kind of self-esteem.

There is a difference between showing love and enabling bad behaviour.

There is a difference between giving children the space to be themselves and asking for respect for those around them.

There is a difference between letting children teach us and never teaching them.

Oh, and one other point ... my Aussie 5-year-old doesn't throw food either ... but I'm no parenting expert, and he may still grow up to be a bum anyway.

Skate or die!!,

Enid

 

Have you read it?  What do you think about Australian parenting styles? Are we too permissive at times?

For your own copy or just a further review (free shipping if you live in Australia and less than $15, please click the link below) . 
 

Linking up with Essentially Jess today for IBOT: