Unsolicited Advice Book Report Edition: Bringing Up Bebe; One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting by Pamela Druckerman

Repeat this aloud: Lori is an imperfect human being. Therefore, Lori is an imperfect child of God, wife, mother, daughter, friend, and advisor. In some fashion, she messes up pretty much every day, so I must not read her words and think:

Lori promises that she is well-aware of her shortcomings, although she welcomes your private, kindly feedback if you ever believe she needs admonishment, exhortation, instruction, or encouragement. You can contact her at writercook@gmail.com.

Ok. Did you really read that? Good, but maybe read it one more time just to be sure. It seems like it ought to go without saying, but every time I let myself think that everybody already understands all that when they read my stuff it turns out not to be true, so there it is.

Now, on to our regularly-scheduled blog posting:

Quick! Think of two of the most challenging tasks most Americans face in their lifetimes. Death? Taxes? Consuming enough fruits and vegetables to satisfy the Eat This, Not That folks?

Here are two that should surely make the top 25 list, if there is such a thing:

Let me recommend a book to you that can help you do both: Bringing Up Bebe; One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting by Pamela Druckerman.

Sometimes when I observe parents interacting with their young children, I feel chagrined at what can feel like a nearly hopeless situation headed, if not for disaster, at least for a “hard row to hoe” for all parties concerned. Then I start thinking of the larger implications for society and I get downright depressed. Then I start thinking of what their choices may mean for the life beyond this one and I get near to despair.

I feel all that because I can see that the parents have nothing better to guide them than the advice touted on American morning “news” programs and the magazines littering pediatricians’ offices across the country, and it is my firm opinion that most of that advice is garbage. I see their frustration, I see their bewilderment, and I see that they sense their inadequacy, but I also see their resignation – there is no better way because, after all, they’ve read all the books and listened to all the experts and everybody else’s kids act like this anyway and that’s just the way it is. And there I am, the stranger observing them at the other end of the grocery aisle, wishing there was a way I could help, believing I could, but knowing the market isn’t the place and the middle of their child’s tantrum isn’t the time, and frankly, I’m not the person because of the stranger part.

What’s needed is a way to help parents take a giant step back to get some perspective outside of twenty-first century America. Wouldn’t it be helpful if today’s harried moms and dads could get a vision for an-entirely-doable-but-not-currently-average family life? How could that happen? I think of three possibilities:

 That’s what the author of Bringing Up Bebe did, although she had to move across an ocean before she found herself surrounded by enough families who were operating differently (and much better) than her own to capture her attention. The result of her awakening is an entertaining, thought-provoking read about cultural collective wisdom or folly and the practical results of each. I certainly didn’t agree with everything posited by the French parents and experts referenced in this book, but I found myself nodding my head again and again. I found myself silently thanking my parents, who brought me up much the same way, and I found myself wishing, in a few areas, that I had adhered more strictly to my parents’ and the French way in the parenting of my own brood.

Before you placate your child with a snack or beg her to go to sleep one more time, try to get your hands on a copy of Bringing Up Bebe. You can use the Amazon search box at the right of this post, or you can do what I did and check your local library.

“O would some power the giftie gie us to see ourselves as others see us.” Amen, Mr. Burns.