Why African Babies Don't Cry

Well, I've hit the 7 month mark and it's starting to dawn on me that I have to go through child birth again! You'd think I'd have realised this before now! It's going to hurt, but I'm going to have the wonder drugs again and it will all be over within a day, is the mantra going on in my head at the moment. Strangely though, I'm not worried about sleepless nights and endless crying, basically because I didn't go through that with my daughter. No she wasn't an angel child, a one off perfect baby, what made all the difference was I listened to my partner.

Africans look after newborns in an entirely different way to us Europeans. They cosleep, they breast feed and wear their babies constantly on their backs, when they're not attached to the boob, as the norm. The mother is 100% available for the baby and bugger everything else. My partner took a complete backseat when our daughter was born, but not in a bad way. He carefully stayed close enough to us to keep an eye out and offer advice and support that I was doing the right thing, but he slept in a different bed, there was no pressure for us to resume our sex life. In his mind, and education, baby came first and I as the mother should be there for her 24/7. If she started to cry, he would simply say put her on the breast. My inital reaction was, but she's already been fed she can't still be hungry! But he was right, she just wanted to be on the breast, it was her comfort. We coslept, I can't recall ever having a sleepless night with her when she was a newborn. She would wake up, sniff out the boob, feed and fall back to sleep, 9 times out of 10 I would bearly stir, just long enough to make sure she wouldn't choke!

I couldn't carry her on my back because I have back problems and she was a chunky baby, but the constant closeness to me meant she didn't suffer from collic. A few times we went through the 7pm screaming, but overall I would just stop whatever I was doing and sit down and put her on the breast. Within minutes she'd nod off.

Sounds like I was a prisoner to my baby! But quite the opposite, I was more able to put her down and do things than I could see my friends were able to with their newborns. I would surround her with big cushions and make a sort of cushion fort around her to make her feel safe, and I was free to breathe. I went back to work when she was 2 and a half months, French maternity leave being the shortest in the world! But it wasn't a problem. My little girl felt safe and loved. She never questioned that I wouldn't be there for her, so she would gurgle away happily in her carry cot, safe in the knowledge that when hunger struck or the world suddenly became overwhelming, Mummy would be there.

So as much as I'm not looking forward to the pain and the pushing, I'm comforted my the memories of my daughter as a newborn and safe in the knowledge that my partner has got my back.

Why am I a Contented Person?

Growing up my parents gave me two important life lessons "mind over matter" and "just do it".

Let me elaborate, I have a big assignment due in on Wedsnesday but why aren't I stressed?

My Dad was forever saying it's mind over matter, he didn't necessarily always practise what he was preaching but it certainly left a mark on me. It's all in my head. If I convince myself I'm stresed then I will be, so obviously it works the other way round. My Mum is a great believer in just doing things. You waste more time and energy obsessing over the never ending to do list than if you just get off your arse and do it!

This mornng I dropped Tiana off at school and came home determined to finish my assignment. But my brain had other plans. In the back of my mind I couldn't switch off the washing up that needed doing and the floors needed sweeping and the million other niggling little things that need doing.

So instead of pushing on half concentrating I got up and did all the little things. I put a load of washing on, did the washing up, swept the floors, got some bits out of the freezer and googled a recipe find for tonight's tea, I dealt with the mail (there's always paperwork to do in France!), had some boiled eggs and soldiers, had a cup of tea and watched an episode of My Family on BBC (after ten years I finally have English telly!), then thought about writing this blog post, so I wrote it.

I'm now going to have a shower and do my hair, make up and nails. Then make myself some lunch, put the washing in the dryer. By this afternoon all my niggly things will be done and I will be able to get into the zone of writing my assignment.

I put my mind over matter and just did it.

My Children My Responsability

I am who I am today because of my education. I went to a Catholic school but my family was in no way religious. I was taught to pray and believe in a higher power yet at home my parents told me otherwise. I grew up living both sides. As I got older I began to see more clearly the dangers of religion my dad had been warning me about. Religion is run by men, if there is a God his message has been interpreted and dishorted by men. He was very clear in making me aware of how doctrine had always been anti female. He told me there was nothing wrong with faith, and it is to be respected but be aware of the power hungry man.

I am grateful for his honesty. I grew up grounded and capable of respectful debate. Now my children are to grow up in a home with an athiest mother and a muslim father. I will teach my children the exact same message. Respect other people's choices but know when to act when their choices prevent you from making yours.

My daughter will grow up to know her worth and to refuse anyone or anything that considers her inferieur. She will learn the customs and traditions of her father's beliefs but she will be free to make her own choice, without worrying about disappointing either of us.

When I first met my partner he was a very different person. He was never a radical muslim but he did have some strong beliefs about a woman's place being at home with the children and the man bringing home the chicken (can't really say bacon in his case can I?!). But he met his match with me! I have a brain and a mouth and I used both of them. Over the years our debates became less heated and I came to see the goodside of his traditions and he began to see that a strong minded woman is nothing to be afraid of, quite the opposite.

Since our daughter was born his views have changed again. He wants her to be independant. To never need a man (apart from him of course!). He knows that if he walked out today I would be more than capable to stand on my own two feet, and he sees the merit in my education.

We have a second child on the way, and although not yet confirmed, we both have a strong feeling it's a boy. This is where it's going to get interesting! I certainly won't be bringing him up to think he's the most special boy in the world. I have all too often been around parents who have sons & daughters and seen the daughters expected to do chores and the sons not to. Believe me that won't be happening here! As Tiana wil learn basic plumbing & DIY, my son will learn the difference between a washing machine and a tumble dryer (I'm speaking from experience here, I've lost count of the amount of times my partner has put the washing in the tumble dryer first!).

Educating my children is a job I have no right to fail at. I will not rely on school or friends to teach my children. I will bring them up to question everything, nothing is black & white. If Tiana was a bit older I would have explained truthfully what happened here in France this week. There is a fine line between preserving childhood innocence and throwing ignorant 18 year olds out into a very imperfect world.

They will grow up in a multicultural home where tolerance and freedom of speech & choice is the backbone of our happy family life. They wil grow up with both parents enjoying fulfilling careers and a balanced private life. They will grow up seeing their father hoover and cook and their mother checking the oil in the car and unblocking drains!

They will grow up with freedom but knowing mutual trust is key. We will travel, experience other cultures. They will spend time with their African family and their English family. They will grow up being proud of their diversity.

They will know the history of black oppression by the white man, and see first hand how times have changed, how from generation to generation we can create a fairer place. They will know the fight of women and their responsability in this world to keep up the fight so everybody is equal. They will know we live in a dangerous world but not to be afraid to live. They will be free to have their own opinions but learn to express them respectfully and after much self evaluation.

They will know their time here is limited but their footprints will last an eternity. I will teach them their actions have direct consequences, being an ostrich in this world makes you part of the problem.

Education starts at home. We choose to bring these little creatures into this world, it is our responsibilty as parents to mould them into good people.

Parenting is more then "brush your teeth" "say please and thank you". What your child grows up hearing and seeing will be the foundations for the person they become.

Shower them with hugs and kisses but shower them equally with knowledge and sense of responsibility for all humanity and maybe we will be one step closer to an united world.

Yet another sad day ...

Yesterday was not the first terrorist attack in France and I'm sorry to say it won't be the last. My heart goes out to the families of the victimes and I hope everyone will respect their privacy in their time of grief.

As a partner of a muslim I suppose this affects my life a little bit more than others. Will their be reprisals? Will muslim hatred be fueled as it was in the UK in 2005? I hope I can safely say that I don't think that will happen in France. The French muslim community have spoken against the Islamic State from the beginning, stating loud and clear these people are not muslims and do not stand for Islam. There is nothing worse than tarring everyone with the same brush.

Islam is not terrorism. Islam is love and respect.

The saddest thing about the situation in the world today is that it is the West's fault. Our policticians have been greedy, have sold arms in the millions to these people, have sat back and let the Middle East be repressed only to intervene when their interests were compromised. We have been no better, we voted them in, we let them do it.

There are over 1200 young French muslims currently fighting in Syria because they are a lost generation. Teenagers in the midst of their angst being picked up by brain washers and simply evil people. Governments reactions have been to refuse their return, leaving them once against abandonned. Why aren't we fighting to bring these children home?

We all have a responsibility to help end this. France took a stand last night as 35 000 people descended on the Place de la Republique in Paris. Every creed, every religion stood together against the barbaric regime.

Social media filled with Je Suis Charlie profile pictures to show their support in fighting for free speech.

Support from around the world flooded Facebook and Twitter

I can only hope in a world where everything moves too fast, that this time we won't forget in the blink of an eye. That this is the wake up call we need to stand together, right the wrongs of the past ... saying I'm sorry can go a long way ... and create a safer united world.

I will leave you with this thought ... I can't see any differences ... can you?

Familles Nombreuses - Why so many children?

As in all countries, day time TV is pants, but in France there is a programme I quite enjoy of an afternoon called Tellement Vrai (So True). It basically follows the lives of normal people. Sometimes it's about people striving for fame, or 40 year old men who still live with their mothers. It's not a Jeremy Kyle kind of thing, they are proper documentaries. One of the themes they do a lot of is on big families. People who have 8 + children. I want more children, there are five of us (me, my three sisters and my brother) and it's great, but then again we didn't all grow up together, my parents had two children each before they got together and had me. I would like 3 or 4 but I might stop once I've had another one. My partner, typical African stereotype would be happy for me to pop one out once a year until my eggs dry up!

But even after watching hundreds of these mini documentaries I still can't quite get on board with the idea of having so many children. You can't have the same kind of relationship with each child if you have 10 kids as if you had 3, there just aren't enough hours in the day. The kids complain of wearing hand me downs, the elders one have to help with the littler ones, making them grow up too fast and the little ones getting away with murder! And the parents complain about how much milk and pasta they have to buy every week! Is it case of these women being addicted to be being pregnant? Does it stem from them having a lonely childhood or did they love growing up with a dozen siblings? Is it the father putting the pressure on to have so many children?

In France this isn't the norm, and often the parents are accused of having so many children so they can live off the benefits, as the French beenfits are amongst the most generous in Europe. And when do you draw the line? When does it go from lovely big family to that was one too many? I am torn between being in awe of the women who manage to raise so many children and thinking when they complain, I want to slap them and introduce them to a packet of condoms! But as I am human and not perfect, I sterotypically find it harder to understand why white families would want all these children, but don't bat an eyelid if I see an African or Arab or even Chinese couple with football team size broods.

An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

This is one of the biggest culture clashes that I come across regularly, the French are pure and simply the biggest hypochondriacs in the world!

We have tummy bugs, sniffles and colds the French have gastroenteritis, the flu & the gastro flu!

Recently my daughter and I had a cough. Out came the cough medicine and Vicks and wrapping up as to sweat the virus out. My partner, as soon as the first cough came out of our mouths ordered us to go to the doctors. It does my head in! There's no need to go to the doctors for a cough! Obviously if it persists and starts to go into the chest I might start thinking about ringing for an appointment. I avoid taking paracetomal or giving it to my daughter unless absolutely necessary. A fever is the body's temperature rising because it's producing white blood cells to fight the disease, and especially a child needs to build up their own immunity. 

Now here's why the French run to the doctors ... In the uk you can get all different types of medicines over the counter in chemists, on the shelves in supermarkets or your corner shop and all very cheaply. In France medicines are sold only in chemists and can be quite pricey, and let's face it with the French health care system why bother paying for them when your doctor will prescribe an A4 page of sirops, vitamin C powders, paracetomal, nasal pumps and you take your little green health card "Carte Vitale" (literally the Vital Card!) to the chemist and it's all free! Whether you are unemployed, a skint student or the CEO of Fauchon! 

And of course let's not forget the arret maladie! The French sick note.

Even for the common cold the doctor will put you on the sick for a week, and 4 of those 7 days are fully paid. And you can do this as often as you like! It's very rare for the health service to ask any questions. I know people who at least once a month put themselves on a nice little arret maladie! Add that to the national 5 weeks holiday a year and you're laughing!

Vivre la France and their formidable socialism!

La Rentrée!

This is a part of French culture I think is absolutely briliant. In the UK we have Back to School, but that's all it is, the kids going back to school. We buy new uniforms and shoes and school bags but the French equivalent is a national news worthy event. It's back to reality for everyone. We all know France comes to a complete halt during August. A lot of businesses still close for the whole month. Boulangeries, Tabacs, boutiques all close for at least two weeks, they don't get someone in to run the place whilst they're on holiday, no they shut and bugger anyone who fancies a baguette. In fact this got to be such a problem that in 2012 a "rappel à l'ordre" (call to order) was issued by the governement reminding the boulangers that the law states that at least one boulangerie remain open at a time during July & August within a 8km radius! Meaning that in Paris alone 600 boulangeries were forced to stay open! And can you believe this law was issued for the first time in 1790! The French pack up their cars, sit for hours on gridlocked autoroutes and head off to one of the 11000 camp sites in France!

And these camp sites are amazing. In fact I'm thinking of putting a deposit down on this little baby in Brittany for next summer

La Grande Métairie

Anyway, the French come back and it's back to work, back to school, back to reality!

Also in France, the schools don't provide even the minimum of school supplies such as exercise books nor paper! The school issues a list during the summer holidays and so the "fournitures scolaires" fill up all the big supermarkets and the battle of the cheapest starts. Adverts every two minutes, catalogues in the letter box, billboards everywhere!

This is obviously a very costly time, but being the ever socialist country, the benefits agency issues an average of 395€ to most families for each child to cover the costs. Phew!

This year was my daughter's first rentrée. Yes Tiana is at school! She absolutely loves it. For the moment she's an only child so obviously being with 24 other kids all day is much more fun than being at home with Mum! She's up every morning at 7am demanding to go and see Madame! Try explaining to a 3 year old that the school doesn't open until 8.20am is my hardest task at the moment.

Her first day, we didn't even get a chance to take a decent photo. She walked in the classroom like she owned the place and said to us "ok you go now!" I much prefer that than the other kids who were screaming and clinging onto their parents legs! Tiana is also the last out when I pick her up, on most days her teacher has to call her at least three times before she'll agree to leave! Do I feel unloved? Hell no! Freedom! She's happy and I get to make the most of her when she's here, instead of dealing with boredom and the attention span of a knat! In fact she's settled in so well that as from next month she'll be staying at school for her lunch and going to after school club til 5pm!

This year is also mine and my partner's first back to school for me in 10 years and him in 20! My degree starts on the 4th of October and his Electrician Apprenticeship started today. It also means that he'll be away from Monday to Friday every week for a year, but that means that weekends will now be meaningful family time, rather than all of us growling at each other because we see each other all day every day!! Exciting times and a very Bonne Rentrée à Tout le Monde!

New Life Continued

As part of my DH and I shaking up our lives and starting over, we have also moved out of Ile de France (Paris's equivalent of Greater London) and into the fabulous Picardie region and to france's oldest town Soissons.

Isn't it beautiful?

We are still only 45 minutes from the outskirts of the centre of Paris but the change is amazing. The cost of living is the main reason for us moving here. We've have cut over outgoings by 2/3! Over the last couple of weeks we've been slowly discovering our new town, in between unpacking thousands of boxes and all the paperwork that the French so love for you to do when you move!

So far I'm in love! We've spent the last 5 years living in a tiny village with no amenities whatsoever, so to have a whole town centre on our doorstep is simply marvelous! Everything is within walking distance, and if you are feeling a bit lazy there are no less that 14 different bus services! Corner shops are open til 1am even on Sundays! We are 800 yards from the train station, which has a direct train into Paris Gare de Nord every hour. There are pubs, bars, a nightclub, over 40 restaurants and countless lovely high street boutiques. Including a fabulous second hand clothes shop, that I have already have a loyalty card for and have kitted Tiana out for her starting school for 15€ and that was only because I got her a coat that cost 5€ ! It doesn't smell funny and has loads of high street labels in perfect condition, you've got to hand it to them, the French can even make a Charity Shop Chic.

Last Saturday we'd had our fill of unpacking boxes so after googling whats on in Soissons we found Saturday morning is market day. We took a stroll down and as with all French markets, we were not disappointed. And as anyone who knows me, knows I love my food and this was definately a feast for the eyes. So sit back and enjoy our new Saturday morning routine ....

My Daddy, My Loss, My Hope

When I got the phone call a little over 3 weeks ago to tell me it's time to come home and say goodbye, I sobbed big fat snotty very unattractive sobs for two days. My daughter had gone to stay with friends for the weekend and I was able to use her absence to be upset without upsetting her. I set off a few days later with a heavy heart but as I grew closer to home, it became lighter.

Spending those four days with my mum and my sisters, playing the bizarre waiting game, will oddly be one of my best memories. We laughed, we drank, we ate, we looked at old photos and all with Dad in the corner slowly fading away.

An hour before he died, I kissed him on the forehead and said 'Love you Dad. It's ok, we'll all be ok'. It was the last time I touched him or talked to him, even though I stayed by his side until his last breath.

I always thought losing someone so close would mean living with a black cloud over your head for months or even years, until the pain would slowly subside to a dull ache that is to be borne for the rest of your life. Age and already being a parent obviously has a lot to do with me coping positively. I've been thinking that I must be in denial, but even today, when I would normally be sending a Happy Birthday message to my Dad, there are still no tears.

I think about him and smile. I remember the happy times, stories and memories I'd long forgotten keep flooding back. The passing of a parent is natural, we all know it will happen one day. I have nothing I wish I'd said. I knew he loved me and he knew I loved him. He may not have always been overjoyed with my choices but he knew they were mine to make and with that my mistakes to make.

He lives on in the stories, in his children and grandchildren; the mannerisms, the curly hair and the humour.

I will miss his forever, but I won't cry because he's not here, I'll keep smiling because he was.

It's Officially Summer!

And the pool is out!

I won't be going on holiday this year, but I must admit with the fabulous weather and a 3m x 3m inflatable pool on my terrasse, I'm contented with what this summer will bring.

Today I actually did feel like I was on holiday. You know that calmness that descends on the world on a Sunday? Coupled with beautiful sunshine and the splish sploshing of Tiana in the pool I could almost have been on the French Riviera!

I also love Summertime for chilling in the shade a reading a good book. I can devour a book a day if I'm left in peace! My mum brought me lots of Englsih books with her, and I've just finished The Paris Wife today.

It's the story of Ernest Hemingway's frist wife, Hadley Richardson, who has become to be known in history as The Paris Wife. Semi-biographical and semi-fiction, a fabulous read into the mind of the woman who made Ernest who he became. A must read in my book!