Spoke too soon...

School has turned my 3 year old into a habitual bed wetter. I have not had a solid night's sleep in over a month. Max wakes up at 4 or at 6 or both, usually wet. I've become a pro at changing sheets and finding dry blankets and pyjamas in the dark. Max has become a pro at speaking really loudly yet not waking up his sister.

We spoke to his teacher yesterday because this behavior - ie a good sleeper who is dry at night suddenly peeing and waking every night! - is a sign of some sort of stress. Not only is Max tired, but so am I but he's also acting out with hitting, biting and tantrums.

Max's 2 best friends from the crèche are in his class. They are inseparable. Although that in itself isn't a problem, it is starting to become one because Max seems to be very exclusive, pushing other kids away when they want to play with him and his buds. They do however allow another kid from the crèche to play with them.

Yesterday when I got Max from school, the ladies in aftercare told me Max broke down and cried when the parents came to pick up the kids. They said it wasn't a tantrum but real sad tears. They went next store to the upper school and brought Suzanne to give him a big hug (the schools are separate but have a common cafeteria).

When we spoke to Max's teacher this morning, he said he believes Max is scared of crowds and therefore is very attached to his little group. And now he's becoming aggressive which is a problem. Somewhere in there, he made me (and less so my husband) feel bad about our parenting. He suggested looking at what we do at home. All this is quite ironic since Max doesn't see his friends, S and A, outside of school. And he does have other friends he plays with. As my husband said, his teacher (the director of the school who is not known for his good relations with the parents) is there to listen to the kids, not the parents.

Add onto this the fact that I'm just exhausted and have no patience for Max at the moment (between his kicking, biting and screaming), that I can't infuse calm vibes in my son because I have NONE.

Max is no monster despite the description above. Max is a very sensitive and thoughtful little boy who hides his fears behind his joking nature. He's sweet and intelligent and obviously very complex.
And if he would let me sleep more, I'd be a much better mom.

Brave

A single word I would use to describe my kids over the past 2 weeks: brave.

When I planned this 2 month long stay in the US, there are a couple things I didn't factor in. First, I didn't take into account how hard it would be for them to be without their dad for 3 weeks. I knew they'd miss him, but I thought they would be having so much fun that they wouldn't think about it too much. But, as Suzanne's daily evening meltdown turns into a Max daily meltdown, it proves that Papa is sorely missed. 

Second, the relationship with the language. This one is obvious yet I didn't think it would be an issue for some reason. Suzanne has slipped easily into English and back into French when speaking to Papa. But Max had trouble getting into all-English mode and now has trouble getting back into French. Third, I didn't realize how overwhelmed I'd be even with the time away from the kids. When they come home in the afternoon, they are in full force and need my full attention. By the time they're in bed, I'm exhausted and just want to curl up. This point makes it hard because there are things I want to do and people I want to see. But I'm so tired that I can't even make a phone call. 

Keeping all of the above points in mind, Suzanne started a second week of day camp yesterday. Last week, she was in a half day programme in town. But yesterday, she started a day camp at a nearby lake which entails taking the bus. As the bus pulled away yesterday, I had one of the worst parenting moments of my life - my daughter was waving goodbye while shaking her head no and crying. She was trying so hard to be brave and to pull it together. I knew she would have fun, there was no doubt in my mind, but it was hard for everyone. I didn't realize quite how brave my little girl was until I really started to think about how much change she's dealt with in the past 2 weeks. Even small things that I take for granted are different. For example, she keeps asking me why there are wires everywhere outside. She's talking about the wires hanging on the wooden telephone poles. She's never seen them before because we live in a large city and wires are attached to the houses or underground. Simple yet different enough to wonder why and to throw her off. And I'm not even talking about the stress of meeting new people! 

Max has thrown himself full force into day camp after a rocky start. The first day, the teachers weren't sure if he spoke English. But now he's part of the group. I'm not actually sure how much he's actually interacting with the other kids, but I'm sure he's getting a lot out of the experience even as a lone wolf at the daycamp.

So brave. My kids are brave. And I'm so damn proud of them.

The logic of a 3 year old.

I don't remember Suzanne being quite so logical. Maybe it's a boy thing or maybe it's just a Max thing...

The conversation went something like this.
Suzanne: Mommy, Max went pipi in his underpants.
Me: Max, did you go pipi in your underpants?
Max: No. I went pipi in Suzanne's underpants.

And he was right because he was wearing an old pair of his sister's underpants which had his favorite barbapapa on them.

This is a follow up to an earlier conversation he had with his father where he asked if Max washed his hands after going to the bathroom. Max's response was, "non. J'ai pas fait pipi sur mes mains." (No, I didn't go pipi on my hands).

How can you argue with logic like that?

Change

Change is good, right?

Last Saturday, I attended Suzanne's CP orientation which was also my inititaion into the French school system.

So far, school has been pre-school. But next year, CP...it's literacy bootcamp. CP - classe préparatoire - is the the first year of REAL school in France. The kids go in kids, but come out FRENCH kids. No, seriously, you should see the list of school supplies my 6 year old needs : a cartable (not a back pack, no wheels), specific color notebooks, 3 color highlighters, pencils, pens, pencil sharpener...what happened to the communal pencil sharpener and the lucky kid who got to sharpen ALL the class pencils?

I learned that my daughter will have recess twice during the day - 15 minutes each time! - and that she'll have an intense swimming course at some point during the year where they will go 4 times during the week for a month.

From next year on, the kids no longer call their teachers' by their first name. Suzanne will be in Madame B's class, who seems to be the more gentler of the 2 CP teachers. But, she is seperated from all her good friends which I'm sad for her about...

So what can an American mother say about her half-French child's scolarization? I'm totally and utterly terrified! There, I said it. The part that I find reassuring is that I called the public bilingual school in Lille and spoke to the director. I explained our situation and she said, "oh, no problem. You live in Lille and your daughter's bilingual so call me in the first semestre de CE1." I figure if it's a bilingual section full of bilingual enfants it must be a little kinder and gentler than a pure French school environment, right?

Then I had to figure out what CE1 was (for the record, it's CP, CE1, CE2, CM1, CM2....). I guess it'll be a learning curve for everyone!

In the meantime, I'll be spending 2 months in the US with my kids this summer. I mentioned this to Madame B during orientation and she didn't seemed fazed about the bilingualism at all which is also a relief.

And I haven't even started talking about Max starting school next year! Oy vey!

So in the immortal words of Sam Cooke, change is gonna come...

The good enough mother

I have to admit, I've been struggling lately. It used to be that I was so consumed by my kids' bilingualism that I had a definite focus. There are obviously other parts of parenting that are important to me and consume me with emotion and worry at times. And there are obviously other aspects to my kids : they are more than just little bilingual robots.

A while ago, there was an article in Multilingual Living called Stop Taking Your Child's Bilingualism So Personally (I can't seem to find it but when I do, I'll post it here). It really spoke to me. And I am happy to say that in terms of child rearing, we aced that one (baring all adolescent identity crises). And the bilingual aspect of the child rearing is the ONE thing I no longer worry about.

I'm a perfectionist, a control freak and lack self-confidence. Without going into the details of all my personal baggage, well, it's hard to be a parent. My parental manifesto is simple: if you love your children and if they know that you love them unconditionally, they will forgive you all your mistakes. But is this enough?

For the past few months, I've been seeing a therapist. Recently, I've gotten so scared that my children, especially my daughter, will pick up some of my unhealthy behavior (ie body image and self-confidence issues). So I decided to stop trying to solve everything all on my own and turned to someone for help.

As I've begun opening up to Dr. D (and let me tell you doing therapy in your second language is not the easiest thing!), I've realized a lot of things. I've realized that I'm repeating "bad" behviors despite myself because that's what I know; I've realized that I can't control everything; I've realized that I am a good parent; I've realized that I'm a good person; and I've realized there's no such thing as a perfect mother. The "good enough mother" or ze goot enuf muzer as Dr. D says, is a a theory by Donald Winnicott, an English psychotherapist. There is no perfect mother. And if there was, you wouldn't want to be that because then you'd be untouchable to your kids. And that defeats the point of it all!

So it's ok for me to buy prepackaged food for my kids (something I don't do because I love cooking and because I place a heavy emotional attachment on food that comes from my upbringing). It's ok to show your kids you are imperfect and make mistakes. And it's ok if your kids aren't invited to everyone's birthday party because you can't be friends with everyone. Just because Gaëlle or Zöe don't invite her doesn't mean you have failed as a mother.

So this brings me back to what I know I've done right (when I say "I", I don't mean to exclude my husband who obviously has contributed a major part of parenting). I've created loving, caring, and gracious little people who always say" thank you" and "please". I've created curious little beings who aren't scared to ask questions. I've created kids who love giving and receiving hugs. I've created happy kids, who cry, who scream and sometimes roll on the floor, but who aren't scared to laugh and smile. And mostly, I've created future adults who I'll be proud of, no matter what they become. And I hope they will forgive me for being imperfect.

OPOL: when your 6 year old sounds like an adolescent

"Papa? pendant que tu es debout, peux-tu me prendre un verre d'eau?" My husband and I looked at each other when this came out of our almost 6 year old's mouth. Isn't that a complete franglais translation of the English sentence : while you're up, can you get me a glass of water? My husband said that no, in fact it was correct but not something you'd expect to hear out of the mouth of your almost 6 year old daughter.

This is a regular occurrence in our house, both the transfer of English grammar to French sentences, and the adult-sounding sentences coming out of the mouths of babes.

I've mentioned many (many!) times, that we are strict followers of OPOL. My husband sometimes speaks English to the kids (like 5 sentences a month) but I NEVER speak directly to my kids in French and rarely engage in French activities (like watching French movies) with them. Both kids know the difference between French and English and are both fully bilingual. So, after almost 6 years as a parent, I can finally let down my guard a little. My kids laugh hysterically when my French husband, who is as bilingual as I am, speaks English to the kids. My son even reprimands his father for speaking English because it's not his language: "Papa tu parles pas anglais!" But when I speak French in front of my kids, they look at me like deers in headlights as if they can't even process what I'm saying to them.

The funny thing about being the sole source of the minority language is that kids pick up all your idiosyncrasies and language ticks. And they end up sounding exactly like you, but smaller. My kids interact with other bilingual kids, themselves products of OPOL homes. When we get them together, we hear a mini Michigander, Floridian, Ohioan, Londonian and New Jerseyite playing barbie using big words and long sentences.

My husband and I don't use baby words with our kids, which can bring about some VERY uncomfortable situations. Like the time my daughter mentioned her vagina to her pre-school teacher. The teacher was so shocked by the actual word vagin coming out of a 3 year old's mouth, that she couldn't even discuss the issue (it was nothing).  So with our son currently being potty trained, I've decided to use the French baby word zizi and zézette instead of the technical terms I would usually use. This will hopefully save us and him - very boisterous and loud as he is - from some highly embarrassing situations. Back to the point of this post...

My kids will be spending 2 months in the US this summer. With Max starting French schooling and Suzanne entering French 1st grade in the fall, it seems like the perfect time to solidify their English while playing with real, monolingual American kids! Suzanne will be going to day camp - you know the kind where they load them into the yellow school bus at 8am, bring them to a local lake, they do dream catchers and drink boxes of milk, and bring them back dirty and exhausted at 4pm. She'll be with my best friend's little girl which is an added bonus. Max will be doing 2 weeks at a local nursery school where he'll be able to practice his bullying skills in English.

And I will, hopefully, be working on my new project while absorbing some much needed New Jersey air.

I haven't found the solution so my kids actually sound like kids in English, but I guess it's not really a problem since one day they will be bilingual adults.

The One In Which I Discover the Lille Jewish Community

I've lived in Lille for about 10 years but I've been a Jew my whole life.

When I first got to Lille, I tried the synagogue a few times and I really tried hard to like it, but  there were something about the rapid-fire Hebrew, lack of order and the relegation of the women to the upper floor that didn't sit right with me.

When Suzanne was about 3, I took her to the synagogue to hear the shofar for Rosh Hashanah. I recall sitting through endless hours of incomprehensible mayhem before the shofar even got taken out. We then hightailed it out of there and I swore never to return because it just wasn't giving me what I want.

And I do regret the lack of Jewish culture my kids are exposed to, but I give them what I hold important. We do Hanukkah with some family here in Lille, we light shabbat candles sometimes, we eat apples and honey to celebrate the new year and in the past couple years I've had a mini-seder at home based on Sammy Spider's Passover Haggadah. But, there's not community...

When my mother was visiting in March, she gently insisted that I get in touch with the synagogue to see what was going on for Purim. We ended up attending the Purim party, Suzanne and Max participated in the costume contest (Suzanne as a princess and Max as a king), and I even met a nice woman who lives around the block from me. So  I thought I'd give it another chance...I mean, most of the people looked "normal" enough. Even the Chabbad rabbi who was dressed as Super Purim (Suzanne was cracking up because she thought it was super pourri which means super rotten in French!).

So last Friday night, I dragged my tired and hungry kids to the synagogue for the community seder. After entertaining them for an hour and a half while the Friday night service took place (included much climbing up and down the stairs and running in the hallway), we sat down to eat. As I looked around at the other people,  I recognized my eye doctor whose children were sitting calmly and quietly with their parents while mine were jumping up and down, climbing on me while Suzanne spilled her juice literally all over the seder place.  It was a very Pamela Druckerman moment, I must say. To their credit, my children were not terrible, but they were hungry and they were sick of sitting around.

After what seemed like forever but was probably only a bit over an hour (which is in fact forever in when you're an embarrassed mother), I turned to the people at the table with me and appologized that I had to feed my kids. I had absolutely no idea where we were in the seder and whether we had said the prayer for the eggs or the matzah, but my kids just couldn't take it anymore! Meanwhile, I was trying to keep a strong façade but was feeling sad because not only was I not getting the warm fuzzy feeling I was hoping to get from the community seder, but my kids weren't even getting anything educational out of it. It was too quick and not at all on their level. I went home feeling sad.

When we finally left around 11:30 pm, Max had washed his hands at least 3 times and Suzanne had downed 2 eggs, a few sticks of celery and half my food. But I had met some more neighbors who promised to invite us next year.

I suppose my point to this post is twofold. First, if there are any other American Jews in Lille, please contact me. Second, religion means a lot of things to a lot of people. And what the synagogue in Lille has to offer is not what I'm looking for. So, I guess I'll have to do it myself.

For information, if you are in Lille and looking for the synagogue, you can find information by getting in touch with the Beit Chabbad.

Unhappy son-day

The up side of the day was when Max had finished eating his third bowl of cereal and asked for a dessert. He said no to both apples and applesauce but asked for cauliflower. I looked around the kitchen and followed his gaze to the plastic containers of pink cotton candy - leftovers from a take out meal.

But that's just 30 seconds out of the entire crappy day that my son shared with us. And it all left me feeling like I'm not doing a good job as a mother. I do lots for my kids : they learn English,  I read to them almost every night, I come into school to read, I do storytime, we go to concerts, we bake...But there's a fine line between doing things FOR them and doing things WITH them. And when I should be doing things WITH them, I'm usually not mentally present. Like many working (perfectionist) moms, I'm always thinking about what needs to be done next : the cleaning (have I mentioned the work going on in our house? So coming home every day is like discovering my living room coated in a light dusting of snow?), the cooking (hey, I like to cook and I want my kids to like good food which they do since favorite foods are snails, sushi and fresh parmesan cheese, not together).

A few months ago Suzanne seemed to be going through a tough period. Her stomach pains, which we initially thought were a gluten intolerance, are more likely due to stress. So we took time to talk to her, see if she's unhappy with school, etc. And we decided that maybe it was just a little problem with her brother who is omnipresent. He's one of those people who you know is in the room, even if he's not making a sound...but he also doesn't know how to not make a sound. When Suzanne speaks, he often cuts her off or repeats everything she says which turns her into a screming 5 year old mess.

So Max's recent sleeping issues (ie coming into our room at all hours of night and saying, "Mommy time to wake up" while turning on both the light and the radio) didn't seem like anything serious to me, maybe just a need to see us a little more or maybe just overexcited by all the new stuff he learns each day. But it seems to go deeper than that. Max is very proud and won't tell us when he's scared or sad. He just pretends like it's all ok and becomes obstinate. By the time he asked for cauliflower for dessert, he'd already been deprived of dessert for lunch, all of his stuffed animals and his pacifier and playing in the snow and hot chocolate. Why? Because we tried to put him down for a nap and he just kept getting up. Even Suzanne, who hates napping, was annoyed that he wouldn't let her rest.

So here I am wondering how to control him without breaking his spirit. And, I'm wondering if I (we) broke Suzanne spirit.  It's that old discussion on nature versus nurture. My children are who they are, but am I (we) not helping them become the best of themselves?

Parenting is so hard...

Max : blabbermouth at 30 months

Over the weekend, we were invited to an American birthday party : L turned 5 and she invited Suzanne and Max to her party. Max and the other littles ones ran crazy most of the time while the bigger kids did fun games with the animateur. At one point, I said to my friend that this was proably the first time the kids' all realized that they each spoke French. But we agreed that they would probably still continue to speak English together because they always have (we've all known each other since the kids were tiny and usually get together without our French counterparts).

As we were leaving the birthday, I told Max to wish L a happy birthday. So he said, in his big loud voice, "Happy Birthday L!". And one of the parents looked at me and said, "Max can talk? I mean, I've never heard him speak." I was agast. I mean, Max not speaking? He's a regular chatty cathy (or the boy version of that). After the party, we went to A's house to let the kids play a little. Max was playing with 6 year old M who was showing him the bongo drums (oh boy something to hit!). Max said to her, as she put them on the desk, "put it on the floor." M turned to me and her mother, "He can speak!".  And I began to realize that Max is actually kind of reserved...outside of his close circle.

At 30 months, Max is a blabber mouth. As my dear husband says, "il remplit l'espace sonore" (he fills up the sonor space). And does he...Not only does he have a deep voice, but he is constantly blabbing about something or other to the great dismay of his sister who can't get a word in edgewise. There is one recurrent sentence at our house at the moment and it comes from Suzanne, "Max, I was talking! waaaaaa!" (that last bit is crying from frustration).

Max has no problem going between languages, but he favors French unlike his sister at the same age. Max is constantly singing songs from the crèche and talking to himself in french, whereas Suzanne used to play by herself in English. But, he speaks to his sister in English. Before putting Max to bed the other night, I told him to say goodnight. He said, "Bonne nuit Papa. Goodnight Suzanne."

He definitely has a slightly non-French lilt to some of his French, but he doesn't insert English words into his speech in quite the same way Suzanne did. I've heard him say things like "mon monster" instead of using the French monstre. But it's rare. As with Suzanne, he overlays his French with some English grammatical structures. For instance, he says "Abel papa" in French, using the structure of the English possessive "Abel's papa" instead of the French "le papa d'Abel". He also uses English adjective and noun order when speaking French like "bleue voiture" instead of "voiture bleue".

All in all, I am very proud of my son's progress and so is anyone who hears him speaking, in French or in English. His speech is "très bien" in French according to the director of the nursery school, especially for a bilingual boy (since those are two factors that can delay speaking). And his English is great. He knows most of his colors, can count to 11 (skipping over 5 through 7) and can express himself with or without tantrum. So to those who think my boy is quiet...tell me that at 5:19 AM when he comes into my room and says "time to get up Mommy," as he turns on the light and the radio. Or when he says, "I love you to moon and back" (quoting one of his favorite books, Guess How Much I Love You).

Mommy: the car slapper

"Mommy, remember when you said you were going to throw the man's voiture in the poubelle?"

To my credit, my exact words were, "si je vous revois je casse votre voiture." (If I see you again, I will break your car). Isn't it nice that even when you're angry, you can still remain polite in French by using the vous form?

I don't loose my temper often. I usually just let anger fester because I'm a big baby. I hate confrontation. In personal relationships. In professional relationships. I'd rather find excuses for why a sales person is rude (because they had a bad day) or why a coworker is angry (because they didn't have sex last night) than actually tell them to stick it where the sun don't shine.

But, the other day as I was walking with my kids, my animal side came out (this is the side that's reared it head in the past when I flipped people off and almost got beat up for it. I learned my lesson). We were walking home from the supermarket, on the sidewalk, Max in the stroller and Suzanne holding onto the side, when I see an older man begin to pull up onto the sidewalk. To his credit, the sidewalk is just next to a parking lot.

I gave him my "what the F are you doing with your car on the sidewalk" look and he stopped to let us by. Just as we were passing by, he pulled up slightly and his sideview mirror grazed Suzanne's head (she didn't even feel it). My eyes turned red, my fangs came out, and out of nowhere, a monster voice came out of my mouth. I openhanded his card window multiple times and began yelling at him. "C'est un trotoir Monsieur. Vous avez fait mal à ma fille". Nothing terrible, I didn't use the f word or any other bad word. But I slapped his car over and over again to the point where I think he genuinely thought I was crazy. He, of course didn't even get out of his car. I walked a little further and stopped a few yards away. Note: had it been a young guy, I probably would have thought twice before lashing out.

When he got out of his car, I screamed at him again. That's when I realized that not only was the entire neighborhood staring at me, but my daughter was in shock.

When we got home, I got down on my knees and explained to her that I wouldn't really hurt the man or break his car. I was just so angry because I love her and Max more than anything. And if anyone ever hurt them, I'd be really sad. I think she understood. And I hope this little incident won't lead her to a life of serial car destruction.

The difference between this kind of incident in the US and France is that :1) in the US, a car wouldn't be on the sidewalk in the first place and 2) in the US, the guy would have had a gun.

French drivers. Pffff.

Do as she does

A while ago, I mentioned how essential Suzanne would be to Max's acquisition of English. What I didn't realize at the time (or think about actually because I kind of have a one track mind when it comes to this blog) is how essential she would be to everything he does. Max is just a little monkey who copies everything his big sister does. I don't remember Suzanne picking up a toothbrush to brush her teeth or tearing toilet paper squares to throw in the toilet (along with a book or two) or standing on chairs trying to reach things.

It makes me realize how an older sibling is the best (and arguably the worst) teacher a kid can have. And, I know there are many reasons for parents to only have one child, but I think it must be a little lonely and boring. But I digress...

Max has entered the period of language acquisition where you can physically see him acquiring new words and comprehension. The past week, I have tested him and he has passed with flying colors. We missed nap time on Sunday. When we came in and had snack, it was already past 4pm so I put the kids together to play in the "cage" which I've filled with balloons. After a couple minutes, Max starts saying bye-bye and waving. So I take him out of the play yard and ask him if he wants to go nap. He nods his head in a yes-like way and says "dah" which I think is yeah. Then he walks over the staircase and stood in front of teh gate saying bye-bye. Then the next morning, I was having trouble getting Suzanne out of bed so, without making any hand motions, I told Max to wake her up. He walked right into her room, to her bed and cuddled with her. He did the same thing last night when I told him to tell her it was time for a bath. He went to her and said, "ba".

He has done similar things in response to his father speaking in French (but we all know that the French thing is less intersting to me so I won't talk about it). He has now learned to successfully use the sign for please and uses it at the appropriate time (except when he's screaming for more food). And he has begun associating gestures that I use when I read books with everyday conversation. For instance, yesterday when I said something was big, he raised his hand over his head. He does the same for push, pull, loud (of coourse he loves banging things).

And Suzanne continues to amaze me, even when she transposes her French onto her English. She recently said, "I won't have scared." When I asked her what she said, she corrected herself without me saying anything. As my professor in french once told me, when you begin auto-correcting yourself, you know you've got a hold on the language. We even have discussions about why certain forms - sleeped or eated - are incorrect. And to my surprise, Suzanne actually took it to heart and corrected herself. Yay Suzanne!

As I wrote in a post a while back, I suspected Suzanne would be pivotal in Max's English learning and she has been. She is my best ally in the daily English battle since she is the only one who Max hears a full conversation with. When Suzanne was Max's age, I got together almost every Wednesday with anglophone friends; but I am finding it much harder to do now because of logistic, work and also having a social child who has opinions on who she wants to see.

But now that we're all settled in with life as a family of 4, I think we can return to a semi-regular English language Wednesday activity.

Mommy guilt

I was away for work for less than 2 days. And in those 2 days, Max got chicken pox (and hopefully passed it on to his sister), he learned to say "Suzanne" (Suza which is so cute) and Suzanne learned how to copy whole sentences from brochures.

I guess I should go away more often...but then I'd have all this mommy guilt to deal with.

Franglais filters

"I want a t-shirt with bras", said Suzanne as we were getting into our pyjamas last night.
I looked at her dressed in her long sleeve pyjamas and looked at myself in my cotton camisole and automatically switched into franglais mode. Assuming she meant bras (as in the French for arms), I quickly turned the sentence around. "You mean, you want a t-shirt without arms like me?" Of course she wanted the undershirt with the cherries on it, the one that is packed away with the summer clothes. I finally managed to get her dressed and to bed.

It wasn't until a little later that I realized the only franglais part in the discussion was my brain. Because what Suzanne really meant was she wanted a t-shirt that looked like a bra ie a strappy t-shirt like me. Duh!

Sometimes you just need to take off the franglais ear filters and accept the words in the language in which they are spoken.

trains, avions and cars

Not even the French strikes could keep us away from our American vacation!

The kids and I had a more or less uneventful trip to the US, except that Suzanne fell asleep at the very end of the flight, had to be carried off by the burliest flight attendant I've ever seen (note that the Air France staff were really great and so very helfpul to me!). Once they got her in the wheel chair at Newark, she woke up slowly and by the time we reached customs, she was ready to walk. For once, the Newark customs agent was friendly. (And they didn't take my maroilles cheese...shhhh!)

In the 2 weeks we were in the US, I managed to see everyone I'd planned on seeing. Needless to say, it was exhausting. I decided not to bog the kids down with too many planned activities.

I brought Suzanne into Manhattan for the morning and lunch three days after our arrival. She was most impressed with the new playground in Union Square. As we walked from 14th Street towards 34th Street, I told her to look up at the buildings and I pointed out The Empire State, that we could up it next time whe she's a litle bigger. She said, 'Mommy, I know when I'm bigger, we can go up. But I'd like to try now." On the list for next time: Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building and the Highline (oh and that really cool ferris wheel at the Toys R Us in Times Square).

On Halloween day, we went to the Turtle Back Zoo (which has changed a lot since I had my 6th birthday party there!). It is a great little zoo, the carousel is beautiful, the train is still nice and the animals were awesome. We particualrly liked the bears and the wolves. And then we went trick or treating with my friend's little girl. Once Suzanne got the hang of it, she and H were off and running. But I was surprised about what Suzanne was intersted in. And it wasn't the candy, most of which is still sitting in a bag at home. She wanted to eat pretzels. And the next day, it was as if the candy had never happened! I was wondering if maybe she's so French that she doesn't understand the importance of Halloween loot or if watching Yo Gabba Gabba's song about not eating too much candy.

The kids had 2 weeks of total immersion in English which seemed to do them both good. I noticed after a couple days that even Suzanne's accent seemed to be changing as I know mine does. But what surprised me was that even after 2 weeks of not hearing a word of French, she still used some French words. Towards the end of the trip she had both an emotional and a linguistic meltdown when her father was on the phone. She just wouldn't speak to him, she said because "I don't know what to say." When we tried again the next day, she completely broke down because she missed him so much.

But as soon as we were back on the plane surrounded by a French speaking crew, she jumped right back into français with both pieds.

Max on the other hand, showed us that he was so unfazed by the American immersion that he decided to walk. Like for Suzanne who walked at 19 months, we are more concerned with the language development since we figure he'll walk one day anyway. But the fact that he hit this milestone during our time in the US shows that he's comfortable in an all English environment and reassures me that he will be bilingual like his sister. He came up with quite a few new words every day.

An intersting aspect when coming back after two weeks is seeing how Suzanne (and Max too probably although he can't express it the same way) can switch between languages and cultures. Although she is using a lot more English with her father, she jumped right back into French. On Tuesday at school, she and I proudly presented Halloween to her class. We taught her classmates to say "trick or treat" and scare them with a jack-o-lantern. Boo!

As for me, there are a number of reasons I know my kids are American which is reassuring:

• Suzanne only wanted to eat hamburgers; Max ate anything in sight.
• Both kids love swings which are just non-existent in Lille (and most of France as far as I can tell)
• We all loved the all-access playground at Edgemont Park.
• Suzanne made friends in the park, played with my friends' kids just like any other American kid (although I did hear her taunting in French).
  

but there are also many reasons I know my kids are French:

• When faced with a choice of 30 flavors of ice cream, Suzanne chose mint chocolate chip just like she would in France (I got cookies and cream at Applegate Farms where I worked as a teenager)
• At the zoo, Suzanne asked if she could walk on the grass.
• Both kids make funny noises with their mouths that just don't exist in English.
  

We also discovered some new TV shows. And although I don't love the idea of my kids watching TV, I have to say that Yo Gabba Gabba, while at first seems a little (lot) strange, is actually a good show that teaches kids lessons through simple, catchy songs.

black out

My parents still have dial up! No really they do. Did you even know it still existed?

Highlights of the trip so far:
the flight was ok. I only hope that the gay couple who sat next to us on the way here aren't next to us on the way. They kept looking at my kids like they were going to make them ill

Max has added the words clock, cat and bus to his vocab. Go Max!

Suzanne is pumped up for trick or treating. We went to get a pumpkin in South Jersey, a combined trip with some outlet shopping. We all went away happy.

So bye bye internet connection. SEe you again soon

No comment

How much more Flemish could Max be? My blondie loves making beer bottle music. He throws himself on the ground in protest when we take the bottles away from him. The future is promising...

Barf bag puppets

A few years ago when I went to visit my family in NJ alone with Suzanne, I found a ton of great advice. In 11 days, I will be boarding a plane with both kids (I did a 7 hour train trip alone with them this summer), a motherload of childfriendly food and a bagful of random toys...for better or for worse. Now a seasoned with-child-traveller, I want to give some advice back to the virtual world.

Am I excited to go "home" for the first time in almost 2 years? YES!
Am I excited to do a real Halloween and to do trick or treating with my best friend's little girl? YES!
Am I excited to see all sorts of friends? YES!
Just don't ask about the plane trip, PLEASE! I am dreading it and have been ever since Air France took my credit card information.

I have a half-dozen different lists going on at the moment:

• toys I need to buy for the plane
• food I need to stock in my bag
• emergency medine I may need in flight (this is where I have a flashback of having to put a suppository into my feverish toddler half way over the Atlantic).
• gifts I need to buy
• things I need to bring back

But with all that stress - and without mentioning the work deadlines I have the day after I leave (haha), I keep coming back to this idea from Delicious Baby . When all else fails, "Three words: Barf bag puppets".

Here are my personal tips for travelling with babies/toddlers:

1. do not let the kids get out of their seat. Once they taste freedom, they will be off and annoying everyone around you. Max (14 months) will literally be strapped to me in a babycarrier the entire flight. This worked well for my daughter around the same age. My 4 year old will be belted all the time. If she needs to use the bathroom, I will carry her there.
   
2. Get the bulkhead. It's sometimes hard but try, plead, cry if you need to. At the end of the flight, you will be happy to have had the extra room on the floor to spread your stuff out without having to worry about saving space, your kids won't kick people, and they can sit or stand in the extra space if they are loosing it.
   
3. Two words: junk food. If you're kids are like mine, you can easily tempt them with special treats. Favorite travel items in our household are lollypops, pretzels, chocolate covered mikado cookies, character cookies you usually refuse to give to your kids and chewing gum (for the older kids of course). I also pack tons of pom'pote (drinkable apple sauce) which keeps them quiet.
   
4. When in doubt, feed. See list above.
5. Bring some of their favorite toys from home but don't over do it. Let them pick the toys out.
   
6. Playmobiles are great for older kids (from 2 1/2 on depending on your kids). They have lots of pieces, are imaginative, and if you buy a relatively cheap one, you won't care if you loose a flower or a kitten on the floor. Suzanne's favorite one was the playground. It kept her entertained for 3 hours!
   
7. Viking toys makes a great line of affordable and cute vehicules that Max loves. Vary the colors and vehicule type. These are great for chewing on as well.
8. Finger puppets are great for older and younger kids. Ikea has some affordable and fairly cute ones.
   
9. Books books books. Some of our favorite travel books are Charlie and Lola stories with stickers, Usborne's Going on a plane sticker book, Langue du Chat (French lanauge adaptation of Priddy books or DK books) with vivid colors and pictures like Le Zoo (which infants can easily manipulate themselves and chew on!) or Les Bébés Animaux, Richard Scary's A Day at the Airport, Priddy Books Slide and Find series, Where are You Going Maisy?. And if you can find it, the Rainy Day Activity Book by Richard Scary has tons of things to cut, color, glue and will occupy your kid for hours
   
10. Give in. As a "special" treat, I bought Suzanne a special "encyclopedia" about princesses and fairies in the Kididoc series. Kididoc is a great series for kids (in French). They are encyclopedias with lots of pop-ups, flaps and cool information..
11. One thing per hour. This is my friend A's advice which seems to work. She wraps up new toys and the kids can open a new one every hour. I've tried this and it actually does work. I end up having extra things at the end.
12. and last but not least, don't hesitate to ask the doctor for something to help the kids sleep. But test it beforehand! I am not pro-medicine, but for your peace of mind, and so the trip isn't completely terrible, you may need to knock your kids out

I think a vodka gimlet will be well deserved when I arrive. (That means you, Mom and Dad!)

Notes on severing my baby

In French it's called severage which seems so much more brutal than the English weaning.

I haven't mentioned nursing Max at all which is funny since it has been such a large part of my past year. But it was so natural and so easy with my second babythat there was nothing to write about (unless someone wanted to know how much I was pumping a day or what kind of pump I use). I loved nursing Suzanne and was so happy to be able to do it for a year. But when I weaned her, I was ever so happy to hang up my breast shields and return the pump to the pharmacy (you can rent breast pumps at the pharmacy. In my case, it was covered 100% by my complementary health insurance). With Suzanne, I was so concerned about not having enough milk that I pumped an extra bottle every day (150-175 ml/6 ounces extra a day!). In the end, it was a good thing because I was able to donate the extra milk to the lactarium. With Max, I decided to take every day as it came...and a year has come and gone.

With Max, it was just...easy. I was so much more relaxed, having done it before, that I defined my goal of 6 months and then would see if I felt up to pumping once I was back at work. But once I got back to work, I wasn't ready to stop. So every week, I said "we'll see." And my little boy will be a year in just over 2 weeks.

This time around, weaning is much harder. I didn't donate milk because Max ate everything I managed to produce - even my extra milk- and even more on some days (frozen milk).

Maybe it's because he's my last baby (most likely), maybe it's because weaning means severing the baby from the mom in certain terms, maybe it's because I spent 6 months at home with him and only 3 months with Suzanne but I feel sadder than last time. By the end of the week, Max will be severed from me for good and I will be able to reclaim my early morning runs and my normal clothes. But I'm sad that my little boy will almost literally be crawling off my lap and will never come back a baby.

For any other nursing mothers in Lille, I recommend the following for any advice:

• lactarium at Jeanne de Flandres - they are in desperate need of breast milk for sick and premature babies. If you are going to pump, you might as well pump a little extra!

• Solidarilait - they give practical and realistic advice from experienced moms.
• Unless you are a diehard, don't bother with La Leche League. They tend to be a bit extreme...
  

Suzanne versus Max

Any regular reader here knows that I am keenly interested (don't say obsessed or preoccupied please!) in my children's language progress. Besides the normal parental concerns, I do have a background in teaching language so I have a real intellectual cursiousity when it comes to language in general and my own kids' language in particuliar.

They say you shouldn't compare your children. But, come on, how can you not? (By the way, it's Suzanne on the left and Max on the right)

Suzanne is, admittedly, very good with language. She began meaningful speech when she was 8 months old; she was turning the pages of books by 9 months; she was making animal sounds by 10 and also pointing to objects when asked and by 15 months she was clearly bilingual. (click here for posts about Suzanne's language development). But she couldn't crawl til she was 1 year old; she didn't stand until she was 15 months old; she didn't walk until she was 20 months old and most importantly, she didn't sleep through the night until she was 10 months old.

So at 12 months, she may have been calling me from her bed, "Mommy, morning!" but a kid can't do everything.

Max is a different beast. At 10 months, he is starting to turn pages of a book (when he's not trying to eat it), is almost crawling and cruising and walking all at once, but he's a wonderful sleeper. He doesn't use words yet, but he actively communicates in his own way.

A few months ago, I think he tried to say Mommmmm but hasn't done it since so I'm hesitant to commit to that being his first word. But he has begun repeating babble and sounds. Over the weekend, we were doing animal noises. Suzanne began quacking and Max cracked up and began saying, "gakgakgak". So the boy's linguistic brain is working but not in the same was as Suzanne's.

There are so many theories that I could put down here:

• boys speak later than girls
• Suzanne got more language input - even if it was in French- than Max because her nanny was much more stimulating than his is.
• "Kids can't do everything at once"
• I was more active in teaching her whereas I rely on more passive language for him.

I could go on and on and make myself feel bad. But the bottom line is, he will speak one day. I'll bet he'll even speak English one day. The important thing is that Max is communicating and that he's a happy little boy.

The year the hamentashen came to Wazemmes

A while ago, way before I had other things to focus on, I wondered what was too much. I'm so over that now...well, at least my brain is incapable of processing that as an actual problem at the moment.

So getting back to something beyond metro-boulot-(children)-dodo (not necessarily in such an organized order), it is (was actually) Purim.
I always loved Purim when I was a kid. Dressing up, eating loads of cookies, making noise, being able to draw on my shoes. Kind of like a second Halloween but only for Jews.

Last year Purim was the same weekend as the Wazemmes carnival (aka mardi gras) so Suzanne and I made a lion mask (her choice) that Jerome improved on (read I made one out of a paper plate and then Jerome made one out of paper mache… but whatever, Suzanne still has bother of them). We made hamentashen filled with poppy seed filling from the Polish section at Carrefour (lots of Polish immigrants here in the North). This year, well, I missed Purim by a day with all the business of working and not sleeping.

But since tomorrow is Suzanne’s school's weekly bake sale, the kids will eat the first hammentaschen of their little lives. I’m not sure the kids would much appreciate poppy seeds, which I believe only little Jewish and Eastern European kids like. There will be dozens (literally) of raspberry filled treats for Suzanne’s school tomorrow – we’ll see how it goes, but they aren’t much different from those jam tarts I see lots of French kids eating and there's no frosting which French kids tend to reject. And maybe it’ll bring out some other closet Jews hiding out at the school.

Thanks for the recipe Mom!