by Mirjam | Aug 26, 2013 | 2013, International, Interviews, Living Abroad, Motherhood, Multicultural, Netherlands, Parenting, Working Mother, World Interviews, World Moms Blog Writer Interview, Writing
Where in the world do you live? And, are you from there?
I live in the Netherlands but I was born in Surinam.
What language(s) do you speak?
I speak Dutch, English and Surinamese and I also have a rudimentary knowledge of German and French.
When did you first become a mother?
I became a mother almost eleven years ago, when I gave birth to my son Jason.
Are you a stay-at-home mom or do you work?
I was a stay at home Mom but for the past couple of years I have been working one day a week. I still feel like a stay at home Mom, though.
Why do you blog/write?
I started to blog because I needed an outlet for my creativity and a space where I could express myself. Once I started, it became so much more: a document for my kids; a report of my journey and struggle with depression; a place to inspire and encourage others; a special spot on the internet to honor my soul and mostly a mirror in which I could see myself in a positive way.
How would you say that you are different from other mothers?
This is such a tough question to answer! I think I am different because of my background. I had some difficulties early in life that have permanently influenced my personality. I choose not to say damaged because I find, as a result, I can still grasp the concept of childhood. I still completely know what it feels like to be a child. That makes it easier to place myself in the shoes of my kids. And that is a big part of the way I parent my kids.
What do you view as the challenges of raising a child in today’s world?
It is my opinion that society nowadays encourages self-centeredness. It is all about self-fulfillment, self-development. I want to raise my children to be compassionate. I would like for their lives to be a blessing to others, that they not only live for themselves.
How did you find World Moms Blog?
I found World Moms Blog via Twitter.
This is an original interview and our second post from our new writer in the Netherlands and mother of two, Mirjam.
Mirjam was born in warm, sunny Surinam, but raised in the cold, rainy Netherlands.
She´s the mom of three rambunctious beauties and has been married for over two decades to the love of her life.
Every day she´s challenged by combining the best and worst of two cultures at home.
She used to be an elementary school teacher but is now a stay at home Mom. In her free time she loves to pick up her photo camera.
Mirjam has had a life long battle with depression and is not afraid to talk about it.
She enjoys being a blogger, an amateur photographer, and loves being creative in many ways.
But most of all she loves live and laughter, even though sometimes she is the joke herself.
You can find Mirjam (sporadically) at her blog Apples and Roses where she blogs about her battle with depression and finding beauty in the simplest of things. You can also find Mirjam on Twitter and Instagram.
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by Olga Mecking | Aug 19, 2013 | Family, Netherlands, World Motherhood
I am always amazed by how many similarities there are between my husband’s family and my own. Our mothers have the same name (even though the spelling and pronunciation are slightly different). Our parents are teachers, his at school, mine are University professors. Both families share a love and admiration of the French culture and good food. Just recently, however, there is one more thing that we now share: we have both lost our grandmothers.
This is, however, where the similarities end. My husband lost a beloved grandmother, a crucial member of his family. Me? Due to a family misunderstanding, I haven’t seen my grandmother for 20 years. The other grandparents had died when I was little, so I don’t really remember much about them.
However, I never felt that I missed anything. I liked having a small family consisting of my parents and my brother. I enjoyed the privacy and the alone time at home. I could never understand my friends when they told me how much they loved their grandparents. Neither could I understand fellow expat parents when they worried that their children wouldn’t see their grandparents much.
Maybe to you, the title seems rather obvious. You may say: “Of course, they’re important!” But to me, it wasn’t always that way.
I felt my mom was important to my children because she is my mom, and I did struggle with the concept of my mother-in-law being close to my children.
It didn’t help that while my own mom has been simply amazing, I felt that anything my MIL translated into: “You’re doing this wrong, and I can do it better”.
But now it doesn’t matter. While I was raised without grandparents, I can understand my husband’s pain of losing a beloved, close member of his family and my MIL’s pain of losing her mother. I decided to give my mother-in-law a break. One of the reasons is that I realized that while I felt she was being critical, I was being critical as well, which, let’s be frank, is not a good base for communication. But there is a more important reason.
Because children love their grandmas. Both of them. My eldest always asks me when we will visit grandma in Germany to sing songs and grandma in Poland to make uszka (pronounced “ooshka”, it means little ears. They’re tiny dumplings filled with wild mushrooms, eaten with borsht for Christmas). We Skype a lot with both grandparents. They read books and sing to the children. In fact, they’re doing a great job of staying connected to their grandchildren.
If you ask me, I’d tell you I still believe in my right to parent my children the way I see fit. I don’t believe in “sucking it up” for the sake of the children. I do also believe in picking my fights. I believe that both my in-laws and my parents make fantastic grandparents, and this is what matters.
If you ask me, I’d tell you that grandparents aren’t a necessity. I know from my own experience that a child can be raised without grandparents and thrive.
But I’d also tell you that grandparents are a luxury — one that I am gladly letting my children indulge in. Because grandmothers are important, and while I am sad it took losing my own to realize this, I am happy that my children have two wonderful, caring sets of grandparents.
How have grandparents influenced your life? How do your own parents influence the lives of your kids?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog from Olga in the Netherlands.
The image used in this post is credited to the author.
Olga is a Polish woman living in the Netherlands with her German husband. She is a multilingual expat mom to three trilingual children (even though, theoretically, only one is trilingual since she's old enough to speak). She loves being an expat, exploring new cultures, learning languages, cooking and raising her children. Occasionally, Olga gives trainings in intercultural communication and works as a translator. Otherwise, you can find her sharing her experiences on her blog, The European Mama. Also take a while to visit her Facebook page .
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by World Moms Blog | Aug 17, 2013 | Belgium, Expat Life, World Tour
“An American Toddler in (not quite) Paris”
It’s 2 P.M. and my toddler is tuckered out and ready for his nap; and—let’s be honest—I’m ready for some coffee and couch time. However, there is one small problem; the neighborhood organ grinder has set up shop right outside our apartment.
Welcome to life in Brussels, Belgium.
There are obvious differences between living in the U.S. and living in Belgium; a royal family, socialized medicine, and Nutella encouraged as breakfast fare, just to name a few. But raising an American toddler here in Belgium has brought out some of the more unanticipated nuances between our home country and temporarily adopted one.
The differences between the U.S. and Belgium are by no means all negative. We will soon be taking our son to Paris for his third visit; he regularly has play dates with pals from Italy; Australia, Denmark, Sweden, Germany and Russia; and he’s a big fan of Pellegrino — all of which would probably not be the case if we were still in the U.S. But, discovering the differences between our old home and new one adds a little levity to the challenge of raising our son across the ocean from most of our friends and family.
It’s finally summer in Brussels, which means swimming—albeit indoors since it’s rarely hot enough to swim outside. Just like in the States, there are plenty of pools to take your kid to, but there is one difference that never fails to delight me about swimming in Belgium. Everyone, even your bald as a cue ball baby, is required to wear a swim cap. So out of all the things that can come out of babies and end up in the pool, people in Belgium are most concerned about hair. Très Bien!
The language differences are always entertaining. One of my son’s go-to activities while we walk around Brussels is to point out people who are wearing glasses, by yelling, aptly, “glasses!” as they pass by. This is all well and good, except for the fact that the way he says it makes it sound more like, “ca ca” i.e. the French word for ‘poo’. It’s probably not hard to imagine the looks you get from strangers when your kid yells ‘poo’ and points enthusiastically at them. Merde!
Once during a walk, a woman (who wasn’t wearing glasses, mercifully) said something to my son that sounded like, “mechant”, a French word meaning “mean or bad.” I was all set to spew forth my best French insults when I realized she had actually said, “il chant”, meaning, “he’s singing” and in fact, he was. Our little guy loves to sing and play music; so much so that we just might make an organ grinder out of him yet.
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Mindi, an American expat who has been living in Brussels, Belgium for the past 5 years with her rocket scientist/cycling journalist husband and toddler son. Mindi is a professional social worker, amateur cultural anthropologist and failing French student who loves Belgian waffles, mussels, and absurdity, and who misses American bagels, mint chocolate chip ice cream, and pragmatism. Mindi’s son tweets his daily displeasures at: twitter.com/Parler_Toddler.
Photo credit to the author.
World Moms Blog is an award winning website which writes from over 30 countries on the topics of motherhood, culture, human rights and social good. Over 70 international contributors share their stories from around the globe, bonded by the common thread of motherhood and wanting a better world for their children.
World Moms Blog was listed by Forbes Woman as one of the "Best 100 Websites for Women 2012 & 2013" and also called a "must read" by the NY Times Motherlode in 2013. Our Senior Editor in India, Purnima Ramakrishnan, was awarded the BlogHer International Activist Award in 2013.
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by hjunderway | Jul 22, 2013 | 2013, Family, France, Motherhood, Younger Children
About three weeks ago, I logged onto my WordPress dashboard and noticed that I had a massive spike in my page views, all linking to one post that I written about a year ago in a fit of anger. Further research lead me to realize that a German blogging news group had linked back to my post about the time I discovered someone was stealing photographs of my son on Instagram. In an instant, my small blog was exposed to thousands of people I had never met, and the thought scared me.
It scared me because now thousands of people I had never met now knew what my son looked like. What his name was. Where we lived.
When I started my blog on Blogger.com, it was to chronicle our adventures living in a hotel for 100 days while we patiently waited for our visas to be approved so we could finally leave the US for Paris. My followers consisted of my mom, my mother-in-law, and probably five co-workers from my old job. I never watermarked my photos and I shared stories about our adventures. I also shared stories about my son, sweet things he said or did, annoying behaviors he exhibited as he struggled through a rough international transition. Those stories were naively shared with the best of intentions; the idea that people are inherently good, and that no-one would probably read my blog.
Without the ability to work once we arrived in Paris, I poured myself into developing my blog. With each post, I became more and more eager to grow my readership, finding instant validation when someone would comment on a funny story I had published or when my mom would say, “I loved that post you wrote.” In addition to posting nearly every day, I attended a major blogging conference, got a Twitter account, a Facebook page, an Instagram account, and so on, and so on. As my little blog modestly grew, I met more and more amazing people. Blogging became my everything, and provided me with the ability to connect with people while living thousands of miles from the only life I had ever known.
Right around the same time that my blog post on “Instagram Trolls” was linked, I read a few articles on how people view “mommy” bloggers. I began to think more about the criticisms of sharing your life with strangers, what should be kept public versus private. What truly hit home for me wasn’t the downside of sharing my life or how it might affect MY career, but rather how it will affect my husband and son’s lives. I have less to fear about what I write because I willing put those thoughts and ideas out into the world. However, the stories that I share about my family aren’t all mine…. they belong to my family, to my husband (who is a consenting adult and can provide his opinion) and to my son.
At nearly four years old, he doesn’t have the comprehension to willingly agree to posts that I write about him.
I used to think that just because my blog wasn’t mainstream, it didn’t matter what I posted because only my family and friends would see it. That belief was extremely naive of me, and I am aware of that. I’ve spent the last few weeks thinking about the direction my own blog will take in the future.
It has opened up a Pandora’s box of the ethics of blogging… raising questions that I just don’t have a solid answer for. Things like “Should bloggers earn money by showcasing their children in sponsored ads?” “Should mom bloggers share naked photos of their children?” “Do the children of bloggers have a right to privacy?” “Does it matter if your blog is small or mainstream?”
These questions and countless more have caused me to put the red light on my personal blog. I’m not sure whether I will continue my own blog the way I have in the past, take it in a new direction, or delete it.
Mom readers and contributors of World Moms Blog, I value your opinions greatly. What are your thoughts about the ethics of blogging, especially when it comes to our children?
This is an original post for World Moms Blog by Jacki. You can check out her experiences as an expat in Paris at her blog, HJ Underway.
Jacki, or “MommaExpat,” as she’s known in the Internet community, is a former family therapist turned stay-at-home mom in Paris, France. Jacki is passionate about issues as they relate to mothers and children on both domestic and international scenes, and is a Volunteer Ambassador for the Fistula Foundation. In addition to training for her first half marathon, Jacki can be found learning French in Paris and researching her next big trip. Jacki blogs at H J Underway, a chronicle of her daily life as a non-French speaking mom in France.
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by Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes | Jul 15, 2013 | Belgium, Education, Government, Health, Special Needs, Tantrum and Tomatoes, Uncategorized
It is a running gag that we Belgians like to make things complicated. This shows itself best in the Moloch which calls itself ‘Government’.
Government – like all of its kind – has a thing for paperwork. It starts even before you are born, when your mother and father are requested to fill in form after form to guarantee your basic rights and to prove that yes you are about to enter the world.
And it goes on and on and on. Papers which need to be filled out announcing your actual birth, your name, gender, weight, etc… Then when you are a few weeks old, your mother will receive an order to have you weighed, measured and to have a friendly chat with a childcare specialist about how you – little pooping nugget – are doing. (Don’t get me wrong, I greatly appreciate this service: these checkups – and accompanying vaccinations – are free of charge, and they often aid in detecting health issues really early.)
When you enter school the whole administrative shebang is transferred to another institution, which will now not only monitor your growth, weight gain and fine motor skills but also your learning process and general scholastic development. And, of course, there is paper work to be filled out…
So this is how I found myself filling out a five–page questionnaire on a rainy night in May in preparation of our eldest’s first annual checkup. Most questions were simple and straightforward : “Do either of the parents wear glasses?” (Yes, both), “Any hereditary diseases, mental illnesses,…” (None), “Primary language spoken at home?” (Dutch), “Any serious illnesses as an baby/infant?” (No).
But there was one question which gave made me pause : “Was either of the parents treated for a learning disability as a child/adult? If yes, please specify which one.”
Well, yes, actually. I was.
When I was about seven or eight years old I was diagnosed with the type of Attention Deficit Disorder, now called ADHD–I. Later they threw in some dyscalculia for good measure. While I never took any medication, I did receive treatment well into my teenage years.
Those were very difficult times, mainly because when I was diagnosed, the whole ADHD–spectrum was relatively unknown. Most people – teachers, close family members and other – scoffed when ADHD or ADD was mentioned.
Many called it an imaginary condition and would tell me that I was making things up, that I was just “not that bright”, “plain stupid”, “not trying hard enough” or – my personal favourite – “a lazy good for nothing pest, who would never get a degree and whose only career option was cleaning toilets”.
I vividly remember how my mother and I were asked to come to the principal’s office one day during my first year of high school, so we could discuss my poor results and lack of attention during class. We arrived carrying a thick file full of test results, reports, statements,… only for the principal to refuse even to look at the file and tell my mother that “it was about time that she accepted her daughter was not as intelligent as she was and that she should not waste peoples time by insisting I remained in a normal classroom.”
Needless to say, my mom was a wee bit pissed off and the discussion which followed can best be described as a fight between a lion with anger issues and a crazy, rabid baboon on steroids.
It got better when I changed schools the next year. It got better when I got older, because I got a better view on the what, the why and the how. It got better because I developed coping skills. It got better because the therapy actually worked and somehow my brain got whipped into some kind of shape. As we now know there is no “curing” ADHD. I still get distracted easily and rely on noise cancellation headphones or classical music to get me through a bad day.
After filling in the questionnaire I catch myself looking at my children all too often, and playing the “What if” – song in my head.
Because what if – along with the sensitive skin (sorry about that one, by the way, kids) and the shape of their eyes – I gave my kids those parts of me. What if, they, too, will have to fight a lifelong battle?
I know times are different. We are lucky to live in a part of the world where education is a basic right, not a privilege and not something for which we – women – have to fight. I know there is a better understanding, new developments in treatment and more acceptance regarding learning disabilities as opposed to when I was a kid. I know – think, hope, … I will probably be more prepared in dealing with one or both of my children being diagnosed with a learning disability than my own mother, who was basically left in the middle of the jungle with a broken compass as her only tool to help her fight a way out, if only because I’m aware of the fact that this situation may arise and have lived it, am in still living it, coping with it.
But still…
What if… ?
How are people dealing with the whole learning disability spectrum in your neck of the woods? If you are a “former special needs child turned adult” how would you deal with this situation?
This is an original post for World Moms Blog by Tinne of Tantrums and Tomatoes.
Photo credit to the author.
Born in Belgium on the fourth of July in a time before the invention of the smart phone Tinne is a working mother of two adorably mischievous little girls, the wife of her high school sweetheart and the owner of a black cat called Atilla.
Since she likes to cook her blog is mainly devoted to food and because she is Belgian she has an absurd sense of humour and is frequently snarky. When she is not devoting all her attention to the internet, she likes to read, write and eat chocolate. Her greatest nemesis is laundry.
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by Olga Mecking | Jul 1, 2013 | 2013, Being Thankful, Child Care, Family, Girls, Grandparent, Health, Husband, International, Life Lesson, Marriage, Me-Time, Motherhood, Netherlands, Parenting, Siblings, Travel, World Motherhood, Younger Children
Imagine yourself in our situation. Your friends are getting married. The wedding is in beautiful Italy. You decide to go, even if it means leaving your two daughters with your parents-in-law, and just take the baby with you. Your in-laws arrive and you ask them to take your 3-year old to dancing class, show them where all the things are and tell them when to bring the girls to daycare. You’re excited. You pack your bags the day before the wedding and go to bed.
But you don’t sleep. Instead, you talk. You tell your husband that you’re not really happy with this arrangement. That you don’t trust your in-laws enough to leave your children with them. That you don’t even feel good about your decision to leave the children with anyone. In the end you start crying and tell your husband that your eldest daughter doesn’t like you and that you’re the worst mom ever.
And then your husband tells you that you’re an amazing mom. After you calm down and feel somewhat better he tells you that he’s not happy with this arrangement, either. You see, our little girl has just had the chicken pox, and according to my husband’s calculation, our baby would be at risk of getting it right during our trip to Italy. The baby was fussy for the last few days, he has had no fever, but his temperature is slightly elevated. What to do?
Consider two possibilities.
Number one: You decide to stay. You’re afraid that if he’s going to get the chicken pox, it will spoil your whole trip. You don’t want the other children to get it, too, and besides, traveling with a fussy baby full of ugly itchy red spots is no fun. You tell your in-laws in the morning. They stay for a few days, but that’s OK. Your MIL learns to accept your decisions and to get out of your way when you sit down to read a book. You learn to tell her when you’re overwhelmed and exercise your privileges as a mom.
When your children wake up in the morning, you feel as if you haven’t seen them for ages. You’re suddenly full of patience. You’re relieved that you didn’t have to leave without them. You braid your big girl’s hair in twelve pink little braids. You feel great. Your decision isn’t entirely selfless. You don’t trust your in-laws and don’t want to leave the girls with them, and that’s OK.
Number two: You wake up in the morning, check your baby’s temperature and decide he won’t get the chicken pox after all. You pack your bags, kiss the girls goodbye and leave to catch your flight. You have fun at the wedding, you dance and sing and eat delicious food. You realize that you haven’t had a vacation for ages. You enjoy waking up in the morning without having to get three children dressed and ready for the day. You get to have a whole conversation with your husband. You go back home and are happy to see your children again. You feel great and relaxed and you’re sure that going to that wedding was exactly what you needed right now. Your decision isn’t entirely selfish. You know very well that having a short vacation will make you more relaxed and a better mom. And that’s OK, too.
How did we choose? We stayed. I was sad not to be there when our friends said: “I do”. Our son didn’t get the chicken pox; his skin is silky smooth as always. So, was it a bad decision? No. Would it have been a bad decision had we gone? No. The thing is that while I decided to stay, if it hadn’t been for the chicken pox threat, I would have gone to that wedding.
You can make a selfish decision and still be a good mom. You can make a decision seen as selfless and make it for purely selfish reasons. It doesn’t matter. You’re a good mom.
Have you ever been in this sort of predicament? What did/would you do?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our writer and mother of three in The Netherlands, Olga Mecking.
The photograph used in this post is attributed to the author.
Olga is a Polish woman living in the Netherlands with her German husband. She is a multilingual expat mom to three trilingual children (even though, theoretically, only one is trilingual since she's old enough to speak). She loves being an expat, exploring new cultures, learning languages, cooking and raising her children. Occasionally, Olga gives trainings in intercultural communication and works as a translator. Otherwise, you can find her sharing her experiences on her blog, The European Mama. Also take a while to visit her Facebook page .
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