Is she yours or did you buy her?

Sitting in our local park the other day, lapping up the glorious sunshine, a little old lady came up to me and said "what a beautiful little girl, is she yours or did you buy her?" I just burst out laughing! I managed to recompose myself and confirm that yes she is mine and no I didn't buy her! The lady sat down and proceeded to tell me her life story which turned out was fascinating.

She is 92 and Polish and had fled to France during the second world war with her family. She has a daughter who lives in the South of France and a son who lives in Japan, that she's not happy about because of all the awful things they did in the war! She lives in the old people's home in the town centre but likes her independance. Completely fit as a lop for someone in their 90s and blunt as anything. Her reasoning was when you get to my age you'll understand you're on borrowed time.

She was a lovely woman and didn't smell of old people, yet I'm sure I detected a faint smell of whiskey! When I grow up I want to be like her. I hope I see her again.

French Children Don't Throw Food

I read this amazing book by Pamela Druckerman last summer and it was definately one of those unputdownable books. An American woman married to an English man living in Paris and raising three children. She highlights the huge differences in anglophile and francophile parenting, asking questions such as "How come babies sleep through the night?" and "How can french mothers chat to their friends while their children play quietly?".

I could totally relate to nearly everything she said, yet not because I'm one of those mothers who frets that my child isn't in the best playgroup or the best preschool, but because I embraced the French style of parenting from the offset and mainly due to my partner, who is already a Dad and Tiana being my first child, I followed his lead. There's obviously a bit of African mixed in there too but on the whole, Tiana is raised in the French "let them live" mentality.

One of the things that does frustrate me in England is that we've become a nation of bringing up Les Enfants rois (child kings). In France, children have their place and adults have their place. Children are told by a simple "attend" if they interrupt an adult talking not "wait a second sweetheart mummy's talking". The French language does help, simple one word directives are very useful and I find that even though I speak mainly in English with Tiana, I mix these words in, such as "rammasse" for pick that up. They're quick to the point and easy to apply a don't give me any crap tone!

I highly recommend this book to mothers everywhere. Give yourselves a break and let the kids grow up without all the pressure and the Dr Spocks and Dr Never Had a Kid in His Life shoving nonsense down your throat!

We're off to Timbuktu!

We've all heard the saying "to Timbuktu and back" but did you know the place actually exists? And it's in Mali! You learn something new everyday.

Where are all the swings?

This has me baffled. None of the kids parks in France have swings. Apparently they were all taken down because people were hanging themselves on them! I find it hard to believe that there were so many suicides that they had to take them all down. Some people say it's because they're dangerous, but then the park next to me has a 12 foot fireman's pole that the kids literally have to jump to from the landing, surely that's a case for broken limbs!

In Britain you get normal swings. You get baby swings

And these funky tyre swings that a few kids can get on at the same time

A park just isn't a park without a swing!

The Mind Boggles

Every country has it's own expressions, and to the French we British are crazy! Here's a few examples of how different our minds work ...

English : Raining Cats & Dogs - French : Raining Ropes

English : As Easy as Falling off a Log - French : As Easy as Fingers in your Nose

English : Filthy as a Pig - French : Filthy as a Comb

English : Smoke like a Chimney -French : Smoke like a Fireman

English : Bull in a China Shop - French : Elephant in a China Shop

English : Subtle as a Sledgehammer - French : As Fine as Coarse Salt

What do you Speak at Home?

I get asked this question a lot as soon as soon as anyone realises I'm English. My partner doesn't speak English, other than what he learned at school, so we speak French. I try my hardest to speak as much English as possible with my daughter. This is easier when there's just the two of us. I do pester Badara to speak to her more in Bombara (the native language of Mali). I think it's important that she knows it, I find it such a shame that 2nd and 3rd generation immigrants can't speak the languages of their origins.

The Baguette : A Love Hate Relationship

I love baguettes. Especially the ritual of going to the boulangerie and it being served still warm from the oven. I always buy at least two because I eat most of one on my way home! Baguettes are fantastic for mopping up sauces and making a simple cheese sandwich just that little bit more glamourous! 

But oh what a faff! You have to go to the boulangerie at least two times a day. The baguettes you bought in the morning are hard by the evening. When you go to the boulangerie you can't help but be tempted by the array of deliciousness before you, which is niether good for the waistline or the purse!

Sometimes I just despair for good British white sliced bread.

It lasts for days, freezes beautifully and is perfect for spreading without flaking everywhere, not to mention toast! 

We don't say "the best thing since sliced bread" for nothing!