How I'm Conquering Mom Guilt with the Help of French Parenting Practices
When I found out I was expecting, I knew that finding a balance between motherhood and my career would be challenging. But I never expected to find myself actually be juggling a squirmy four month old and my laptop in an office meeting as I struggled to take notes.
My employer had no problem with me bringing my daughter into the office for staff meetings, but each weekly excursions into the office left me laden with feelings of guilt.
It felt as if no one was getting my best or my full attention. I was distracted and thinking about work projects when I was spending dedicated time with my daughter, and when I was at work meetings, the needs of my daughter seemed much more important than the accuracy of the notes I was supposed to be taking.
As I attempted to make sure my daughter’s pacifier wouldn’t go flying across the conference room (again), I wondered if there was a secret to having it all together and letting go of some of the guilt that I couldn’t seem to shake.
Was I doing anything right? After long days at the office, it sure didn’t seem like it.
Eventually, the crippling weight of mom guilt sent me to my local library in search of expert advice on how to enjoy parenting more. I perused a seemingly unending selection of books, but then I discovered one book that I wish I would have read before I found out I was pregnant. Within its pages, I finally found some relief from the mom guilt that had been overriding every aspect of my life.
In “Bringing up Bebe,” American journalist Pamela Druckerman chronicles her discovery of French parenting.
I’d already thumbed through hundreds of parenting books with sometimes contradicting ideas and parenting philosophies. But Druckerman’s book wasn’t offering another parenting philosophy. Instead, her work was challenging my idea of who my child is, and who I am as her mother.
While Druckerman raised her daughter in France, she discovered that all children (including her own!) were capable of levels of understanding and autonomy that she never had imagined.
Her book is a must-have for parents who want to raise curious, creative, and well-mannered children all while maintaining a full, (mostly) guilt-free adult life.
Druckerman’s thoughts on French parenting has taught me three important lessons as I slowly release my grasp on mom guilt.
01. L’equilbre is just an ideal
My experience of seeing my work-life balance as a juggling act is exactly how Druckerman observed Americans talking about balance and the guilt we experience on a quest to find it. Most of us are attempting to balance everything without messing something up beyond repair.
It’s not as if French mothers don’t crave balance - l’equilbre. After all, most French mothers go back to work after giving birth, thanks in part to high-quality day care options, subsidized nannies, and a wide range of child-care options that make that transition back to work easier.
It’s not as if their child care resources answers all the French desires for balance, though. The French talk about balance differently.
“For them, it’s not about letting any one part of life-including parenting- overwhelm the rest,” Druckerman explained. “It’s more like a balanced meal, where there’s a good mix of proteins, carbohydrates, fruits, vegetables, and sweets.”
My desire for a balanced life was, well, off balanced. Instead of viewing balance as an ideal, I poured every resource and spare minute I had into attaining it - and when I hadn’t succeeded, I felt guilty. Druckerman’s observations of French parents taught me to view l’equilbre as a calming ideal instead of a hectic search.
When I let go of the idea that I could find the silver balance bullet and maintain perfect harmony all throughout the seasons of motherhood, I could let little hiccups and mistakes pass by me without sensing overwhelming guilt and feelings of failure.
02. The perfect mother doesn’t exist
“French mothers absolutely recognize the temptation to feel guilt,” Druckerman observed. “They feel as overstretched and inadequate as we Americans do. After all, they’re working while bringing up small children. And like us, they often aren’t living up to their own standards as either workers or parents. But the difference is that French mothers don’t valorize the guilt.”
What Druckerman discovered is that the French recognize the trap of feeling a constant sense of guilt, but they reject it as unhealthy, both for themselves and for their families. Instead, they confidently realize and reassure themselves and fellow mothers that the perfect mother doesn’t exist.
I’ll make mistakes - I’m sure I’ve already made quite a few in these first few months of motherhood. But as I read through Druckerman’s book, I realized that the only person who expected me to be perfect was myself. Even my daughter didn’t expect perfection, she just wanted me to be present with her.
03. You don’t have to do it all
Not only is there pressure (real or perceived) to find the elusive balance between motherhood and everything else on our to-do lists, I’ve also seen mothers who I know and love in my life feel the need to make sure they do everything for and with their children.
With busy calendars, dinners on the go in the car, and carting our children to and from music lessons, school drop-offs and pick-ups, and sports practices it’s easy to become a maman-taxi.
But at the end of the day, we’re exhausted. And that guilt is still creeping in. What if we realized, like the French seem to understand already, that we don’t have to do everything?
“Virgine and her friends aren’t slackers,” Druckerman wrote, describing a group of French mothers to elementary aged children. “They have college degrees and nice resumes. They’re devoted mothers. Their homes are full of books. Their kids take lessons in fencing, guitar, tennis, piano, and wrestling. But most choose one activity per school term.”
It’s not that you don’t love your child if you take the few moments you have to spare to spend time relaxing or recharging. The more I found that I’ve said “no” to others in order to create some room in the margins of my day for healthy self-care habits and carefree leisure with my daughter, the better mom I’ve become. And you can bet that I’ll be teaching my daughter how to discern how to say “yes” and “no” to opportunities and activities as well.
There’s no such thing as a perfect mom, and there’s no such thing as one perfect way to parent. But what Druckerman’s experience in France has taught me is that La mere parafaite, c’est vous. The perfect mom for my baby is me - flaws and all. And that’s nothing to feel guilty about.