Bringing Up Bébé

 

Katherine Hepburn as Susan. [Online image] 1938.

I didn't like Bringing Up Bébé from the minute I heard about it. And I never would have started reading it if my French mother-in-law hadn't sent me a copy last year while I was on vacation. I mean, an American mom in Paris writing glowing anecdotes about "French mothering" (that has be an oxymoron, by the way)!? She can't be talking about the same French moms I see on a daily basis. Ok, I'll admit (grudgingly) that Parisian moms may have the guilt-free "work-life balance" down better than we English-speaking expats. But if embracing the mantra, "the perfect mother doesn't exist," means that you have no qualms about pushing your Maclaren down the street with one hand while dangling a lit cigarette from the other, I'd really rather continue living with my Anglo-Saxon guilt. 
As for the whole relaxed-and-seductive French mother spiel: of course they're cool and collected and sneaker-free! They're holding down a desk job all day--not chasing after a toddler! I still remember running into my husband's French colleague (and mother of two) last spring. She was out on her lunch break, and I was hurrying to the bus with my son after a Gymboree class. "You look tired!" she told me in surprise. A few months later, our two families spent a summer afternoon together because we were vacationing nearby. "I'm exhausted!" she said, admitting that being an around-the-clock mom was hard work. I managed what I hoped was a cool and collected smile of empathy, while my sandaled, vacation-happy feet took me for a triumphant victory lap--without the least bit of guilt.