Someone Else is Living Your Parisian Dream

It sounds a little harsh when you put it like that, but it’s mostly true. I have less than zero interest in shopping for new baby gear, and besides that, can’t even think of anything that we might need. What we have from first round with Max (see the Amazon list to the left)  is proven and still in really good condition, if not excellent with the exception of some new white onesies.  Other than that, round 2 finds me sitting on an ever growing butt, with my fingers tapping idly on my growing belly, and simply waiting for our next little man to join us.

Max’s old clothes are in very good condition: machine wash, usually in cold or warm. We (I) line dry in the Spring and summer months, once upon a time when Spring still came to Paris. More true to date and during the winter, we dry on the towel heater in the bathroom. In fact, I dry almost all of our clothes that way.  Otherwise, Max has tons of barely worn clothes, a result of baby showers in the US, where gifts are always given in generous piles and family who have their minds on Max from the distance, the youngest in our clan, to date.

There are millions of these baby lists out there, and I thought I’d put my own out for yet another perspective on mothering (in Paris, and elsewhere). It occurred to me that there’s some value in a list where the author sits on the couch-office of a 45m2 apartment with a laptop on her lap.

The majority of Max’s toys (with the exception of a large cube like thing, from FNAC and 2 or 3 crib accessories) fit into two of these baskets. He has many books, and those aren’t included in this equation, but they’re spread out around the apartment (not in the same way that you see in the photo), next to our bed, on top of shelf, or on a shelf at his height, if they’re board books.  Such a list is particularly useful for those who vie to be a bit more minimal just to be, or simply don’t have space.  We fall into both categories; I don’t think that I’d do things too much differently if our apartment was bigger.

First, I’ll tell you what we didn’t need, but do own. Many people consider these to be essentials in their baby arsenal, by the way, but everyone’s situation is different.

BUY THEM AS THE NEED ARISES, NOT AHEAD OF TIME

• Rocker/Glider: No space. I fed Max on the sofa and in bed with my indispensible Boppy and will do this again, even in our new (larger) apartment, come August.
• Changing table: We set up shop on our bathroom counter. Even though the boys will have their own room, we’ll do the same.  I understand that some people don’t have bathroom counters at all, especially in Paris.  Others use their beds or the couch, and that’s what we would do, if we didn’t have the counter option.
• Swing: If we had needed this, we might’ve have purchased it. As it turns out, we were fine without.
• Bouncer: Ditto the above, but I’m not certain that this and a swing are necessary and the combination of our indignance and skepticism would prevent us from having both.   Anyone out there have any info to share on this? How do you use them differently (aside from their functions, obviously?

HAD & DIDN’T LIKE (OR REPLACED FOR OTHER REASONS)

• New Native Baby Sling: Max was a fairly big baby, and his weight dragged me down. No padding in this sling.  May use this for the new baby in his first days.  We now own the Ergo Carrier and are moderately happy with it (more info to come on this).
• Baby Bjorn Active: Same as above, even with the extra back support version. Baby’s legs and arms hang free in front. When he got to the 6kg-8kg stage, the pain was unbearable after a few minutes of walking.
• Avent Natural baby bottles: Contain BPA, pthalates. These were replaced with BPA free bottles. I only bought 2 - one glass, and one BPA free plastic. I breastfed Max (and am at the tail-end of weaning, and found that we only really need two bottles).  I have to wash often, but in a small space, I prefer this over the clutter of several bottles and their various peripherals.
• G-Diapers: I really liked these, but as diapering is a necessity (in our home) it’s unrealistic.  They don’t sell the inserts here in France, and having them shipped is an unrealistic expense.  They cost roughly the same as disposables - maybe a little more - but the soiled inserts are either flushable (poop) or compostable (pee), so they are by far environmentally superior.  Love the idea, and if we were in a country where access was easy, I would have continued using these, but I can’t have them shipped every time.  They come in S, M, L.

THINGS WE LIKE (aside from cute clothes)

• Boppy: Saved the arms when feeding, multiple other uses for sitting, tummy time when younger.
• Activity mat (tapis d’eveil): We’re convinced that having one of these taught Max to hang out on his own, starting from 3 weeks. It freed me up to do other things, as he lay on his back, playing on his own for short periods at a time. These need not be extra fancy. Ours was very, very, VERY basic but served us well when he was younger.
• Changing Mat: Ours lives on the bathroom counter and is very battered, after a year, partially due to the fact that it’s longer than the counter so I tend to lean against it. I think that I’ll buy a cover or 2 for the next one.  Thoughts?
• Pump bottles: With one hand supporting Max’s head and neck, I was able to dispense (very small - that’s all that’s needed, if at all) controlled amounts soap from the pump bottle with the other. This becomes less necessary when they’re sitting on their own, but it’s a cheap investment and can be reused for various other things later.
• Small toys:  These will vary from child to child. Max liked little ones that made rattling noises, like these cubes, the Oball (no noise, but can hold easily), the 3 toys that hung from his tapis d’eveil, and a rattling flower with a weighted bottom, which I can’t find online. I think it was a gift from FNAC.
• Bumbo: Max was sitting in this for feedings before he really knew how to sit independently. This was helpful to the point where I’m not sure how mothers do without it?
• Fisher-Price Healthy Care booster seat: We can’t afford space for a proper high chair, so we use this at home. We pack it up (VERY simple to do) to bring to friends’ homes and restaurants. When we move, we may upgrade to a chairs) for both children that grows with them like the Stokke Tripp-Trapp. Admittedly, this is partially for vanity reasons in our new place, and will be selected to match our table. We would probably do fine with just this chair for a long time, however.
• Crib: Many people co-sleep or have their children in bassinets for their first months. I’m not quite sure what route we would have taken, had our crib not been handed down in the family (my father-in-law used this, as did my husband). It’s not state of the art, but it’s served it’s purpose.
• Bum-Genius 2.0 One-Size Cloth Diapers: I’ve only been using these for about 3-4 months, and am happy with them. They’re One-Size, meaning that they can be used from infancy through toddlerhood by simply moving the snaps that increase/decrease the circumference for thighs.  Economical and environmentally superior to disposables, the only concern is water and electricity usage. To allay impact, I wash them every other night or two during the middle of the night and hang dry in the morning.  Max and Baby #2 will share the same set.  We own 22 of them.

There are also many who like to say that all you need are boobs and a sling, like they do in many countries. But why go as far as a sling? Why not just your arms, if we’re being so basic? I’m convinced that these people are childless, and will eventually bite their tongues off.

In most cultures where babies are slung, and where only a boob is necessary, women were working at or nearby home all day, with community support. Today, women do a bit of everything, from grocery shopping, to the office, to housework and parenting. All without or with little community support. Our ‘community support’, the only consistent type, is called “daycare center” and it sometimes costs a month’s salary.

Each parent’s needs are different, and some of our perceived needs are different, but this is the bare bones list that worked for us.  We’re subject to updates as we remember items, by the way.

A friend of mine is doing her practicum in Thailand, working with Burmese migrants outside of Bangkok. I’ve become very familiar with these remote regions over the years, opting to hang around, observe and learn the small border towns, over the popular beaches and organized jungle treks. I speak their language, know their culture, and have a vested interest.She’ll be there from July-December, “Come visit!” she told me. Baby #2 is due in August. Once again, our chances to join forces in a foreign country are delayed.

We first met in a small guest house in Borneo, two lone female travelers drying out our corporate brainwashing. We became fast friends, and kept in touch easily, as it turns out that she lived up the street from my mom, 20 minutes from me.

Our roads split, and we ended up in different countries, but our interests remain the same. From Kenya, she spun true stories of the experiences of a Peace Corp volunteer (different stories than that of a different friend who is there, currently). Now, she’s back in the US, and completing her Masters in a public health program, soon off to Thailand, South East Asia, and a region that I’ve made my heart’s home.

Am I just a little bit wistful and envious? Yes.

Would I trade my life? No. I’d love to expose my boys to this part of the world that very few bother to explore, though. It takes an extreme experience, contrary to your own, to appreciate every ounce of what you already have.

I love the curious and adventurous shadow of my former self, and have learned to cultivate her in different ways: through stories of friends, reading, documentaries, and most of all, by planning our family adventures to remote places, safely, when the boys are a bit older.

But I love my family and my sons more.   In the meantime, I’ll just keep those travel bugs contained, in a safe place for future liberation.

With about 4 months or so under the my belt, baking the Small Fry, I’m harboring few, if any, of the logistical mysteries that I did with Max. There will be minimal upgrading, and some learned lessons applied, but the product and mom-theory research and test runs have been done, tried, and proven. Or not, as the case may be.

This pregnancy is nothing short of a breeze - so far - and I sometimes forget that I’m pregnant. There’s a Max to marvel over, work and increasing opportunities that are branching out, and a new home for which to pour over remodeling plans with the equally excited husband who draws floor plans with Max’s fat crayons, starting with the kitchen.

While the pregnancy manages to escape my attention much of the time, my thoughts wander often to my 2 boys with visions of how they’ll grow together. Will they be partners in crime, or adversaries? Will they harbor the same tendencies and share personality traits, or emerge as night and day, as is the case amongst my own siblings? Will they pack their bags for travels to far away lands together one day, coming home with stories for their wanderlust parents? Or the very best scenario yet, maybe we can all pack our backpacks and travel together.  To me, this will be best compliment to my role in their lives; that my boys will want to share their adventures with us.   The brothers against the world?

A little closer to home, though, I wonder whether #2 will be the more difficult one that makes me question my abilities as a mother? Perhaps that unknown is my biggest fear of all in this next stage. While I can fairly easily deal with another Max, what will I do with one who cries easily for all of the reasons that Max doesn’t, though by all rights, he should? What if this one is finicky? What if he can’t stand a wet diaper?

I am amazed at Max’s tolerance for discomfort.  He gets this tolerance trait from his father and I am well aware that this has little to do with my influence on raising, and everything to do with pure luck. At a friend’s house recently, I trapped his fingers under a chair. As I pressed on the chair to make it sit evenly, thinking that it wasn’t settling correctly on the ground, he whimpered, barely audibly. I heard him seconds later, as he tried to clue me in on his pain, but he never let out a cry beyond that annoyed whimper.

And what does it normally take, aside from walking away with his food? There was little sleep accomplished last night. He was on his 3rd day with chicken pox, teething, and with bit of a fever. Each time I put him down at my bed time the other night, 2am, he wailed at a pitch that would rival any banshee.   Last night, he was fine.  And that’s what it takes. A former manager shared a bit of information that seems so obvious. That it’s easy to be a good manager to good employees. It’s the difficult employees that test your capabilities. It’s easy to be a good mother to an easy child. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m a great mother, no matter how much I’d like to think that I am.

My (now, not so) private fear, mixed with a premature guilt of even thinking this, is that Baby #2 will be much more easily disturbed, forcing us to readjust in an environment where no one will be having fun. More fussy. More of a crier. While I already love my unborn baby and am waiting anxiously for the steady barrage of his beatings and kicks against my belly, I also feel a bias toward my first born; that this could be unfair to a good natured Max who has only had us to himself for a little over a year.

In the end, I have little doubt that this mother’s love will cast a haze over the potential ‘faults’ of our new addition. In fact, I’ve already almost forgotten that the evil side of Max woke me from a semi- state of napping yesterday afternoon (after keeping us up for most of the night) by shouting, “No!” crawling over quickly and hitting my face with his tiny palm - an oncoming issue that I hope will pass as a short phase.  While I don’t have to deal with much crying, the hitting will hopefully not develop into a lasting issue. When I opened my eyes, he smiled and middle earth was once again stable. My bias, guilt invoking as it may be, is that Max is such an overwhelming real and present light source for me. While I love our new addition because he is a part of this family, it’s difficult to fully embrace him, yet, for the person that he will become.   But I know that all doubts and concerns will be swept away the moment I hold him.  And once again, there will be no questions or unfamiliarity.

At Starbucks, I eavesdrop on a group of 4 in line in front of me, watching their interactions.  I think that one of the young women is considering buying a travel mug, and wonder whether the winds are changing directions. There seems to be a discussion surrounding said mug, as they all watch her handling it.  Will we soon see coffee cups bobbing along the hurried streets of Paris? She looks awkward, as she rehearses drinking from it; as if she doesn’t know how to handle this complicated piece of machinery. Her friend takes it from her hand and turns the spout for her so that it is at 6 o’clock, near her lips, rather than at 9 0′clock, directly opposite from the handle, which is in the 3 o’clock position. I guess that the winds will change very, very slowly, if they do. There’s a travel mug learning curve to be overcome.

* * * * *

And I do frequent this Starbucks on days that I work; they’re located conveniently on the ground floor of our building. And I don’t even need to go outside of the tall building to get in.  Oh, the marketing trickery.  I imagine Starbuck’s and it’s planners pow-wowwing unnecessarily over ways to reach some regular clientele, “And if we add an entrance here, where the worker ants won’t need to walk outside on those cold days… and they’ll need a badge to exit the shop, to get back into the building…”   On rushed days when I don’t schedule a lunch break for myself - and that’s on 99% percent of my working days, I may grab a sandwich or a carrot cake with my drink, and enjoy them American style - at my desk, with my office door closed, while catching up on a little work. Old habits die hard.

Although the coffee leaves much to be desired, it provides the kick I need. I’m disturbed each time I order one, though, because it’s one papercup after another (sans that cardboard protector).   And so…I have a travel mug from Peet’s coffee coming my way, where the reviews rave that it “keeps my coffee hot ’til the last drop!”  It’s not cool to carry around a travel mug in Paris, but I feel very uncool tossing cups, whether from Starbucks, or from the .15 espresso machine that dispenses a small plastic cup for each swallow of cafe - and I usually need 3-4 of those within the few hours that I’m at this part time job.  My new cup will allow me to either bring coffee, or purchase from Starbucks without the waste. Maybe this will catch on here….  (Update: And maybe Sarah will share her recipe for some sugary goodness!)

My husband woke up at about noon on Sunday morning and I was brewing with information to share.   In a newly discovered language blog that I came across while searching for more Chinese learning resources, I read in an entry that a woman’s 3.5 year old is learning four languages: Spanish and English by heritage, ASL and Mandarin. Since Max will learn French and English by default, my focus is on teaching him Mandarin, a dialect in which I am not proficient. I believe that the family in the blog is Mexican-American.

I jokingly informed him that she selected Mandarin over French because, in her research of Prestige languages,  she learned that, “……it appears that French is quickly mattering much much less on the international scale and has already fallen off the top ten Prestige languages of many experts.” Just to bug him a little.

We speak often about language and ways to expose Chinese to Max - not only because this is part of my background, though it’s a large reason. We chose Chinese (Mandarin) over Burmese because it will more useful personally, in career, and in travel. My husband replied grumpily and a bit illogically,

“I don’t know why she chose Mandarin. Why not Portugese? Brazil is the 8th world power.”

And I had to laugh. “Yeah. Why not choose to teach him the language of the EIGHTH power, when we could just teach him the FIRST?” Besides, who speaks Portugese?

“Brazilians!”

“Ok. I rarely hear about Portugese unless it’s a French person talking about work. And the only time I hear about Brazil is from vacationers, or you, when you’re telling me  about transvestites that we see when we’re out.”

“No. We talk about the drug cartels and smuggling.” 

“And that’s why she should have her kid learn Portugese, huh?”