I just came across Language Littles dolls today. What a great idea for raising your little citizens! The dolls say 25 to 30 kid friendly phrases in ten languages. You can buy your little one a Spanish, French, Italian, Russian or even a Greek speaker. If you want to introduce your kid to Spanish, Lizzie can help you out. When you press her right hand she says a series of greetings. Her left hand holds the words for numbers and animals and her knee says “Te Amo.” What a great way to introduce new languages to your little citizens!
A dedicated, long-term Army National Guard soldier, my husband loves the adventure and the challenges he’s found in the experience of serving his country. As his wife and the mother of two young children, I have been relegated to our home for much of this time as a single parent, accepting the vicarious window to the world he provides… but sometimes toting a baby and a backpack for a distant rendezvous with our soldier!
National Guard families do not live on military bases and, as a result, we don’t necessarily live in an environment where there is support or understanding of a lifestyle that regularly pulls families apart and throws them back together.
My main task in raising our little citizens of the world is to create this sense of community for them in the Midwestern college town in which we reside. At the same time, I try to extend this sense of community to the world and explain how, while their dad is not always able to be with us, he is representing us as Americans wherever he goes. His role as a soldier requires that he work closely with soldiers and civilians of other nations, that he is good at both teaching them what he knows and listening to their needs, in order to build a more peaceful world for all of us.
Our kids’ first impressions of the world come from us, their parents. And even when their own feet aren’t touching far-away soil, the impressions their dad shares with them help them understand both the similarities and the differences between people everywhere. Every time we find ourselves “left behind,” we are simultaneously given the opportunity to learn about another corner of the world to which our soldier is flung. Germany, England, Poland, Afghanistan… the list continues to grow.
The trinkets Daddy brings home, the photos, the stories of unique experiences (marching 100 miles with Polish soldiers on an annual pilgrimage, sharing a field breakfast with British soldiers, shopping at a bazaar, and even throwing sandbags along the banks of the Mississippi River in the USA) keeps our children’s eyes wide open. We are reminded constantly that while we all need food, shelter, and clothing, those things come in a huge variety of forms. And being reminded that so many of our counterparts around the world live with far less than we do begets gratitude for our home and simple, but comfortable, life.
At home, I find that there is nothing quite like being a single parent to force one’s wings to stretch. Leisure time may take a backseat for a while, but the qualities of independence, strength, and resourcefulness only grow. Staying close as a separated family takes extraordinary effort, but that pays off in resilience. I have a basket, manila envelope, or box on hand nearly all the time, in which artwork from the kids, mementos of their accomplishments, newspaper clippings, cards, and letters are deposited for Papa; in return, we receive email, phone calls, and occasional packages from him, through which we remember who he is, how much he loves us, and learn about what he’s encountering. We visit the library and attend diverse cultural events on our local university’s campus to learn more about the people and customs of places where Daddy is working. When we have the opportunity to meet somewhere as a family in the middle of a lengthy training or deployment, we are willing and ready to pack a few bags and snacks and print the driving directions or make the plane reservations to make memories for all involved.
When our daughter was nine months old, she and I met her dad in Frankfurt, Germany for a week spent traveling the Romantic Road. The first breads she nibbled were hearty European rolls, given to her at every restaurant (along with the German proclamation “Sie ist laut!”—“She is loud!”—in response to her happy squeals) and she woke with us under eider-downs to the tolling of church bells in small villages. We held her on our shoulders to walk cobbled streets, stopping to let her dip her hands in centuries-old fountains, and I nursed her on a hidden bench in a leafy public garden. The time changes were difficult, but reviving myself with strong, smooth German coffee was a pleasure. Best of all, I found my previous assumptions of Germany as a cold, industrial nation to be unfounded in the warm reception we received as a family vacationing in a place of Old World beauty and impressive efficiency and service.
That spirit of curiosity, openness, acceptance, and grace wherever it may be found provides a foundation for my husband, and for me with our children, to continue our travels, whether independently or together. Perhaps whatever place we find ourselves in will look especially bright when our company is found in its midst.
My father first proposed the idea for a family trip to celebrate his seventieth birthday when I was 3-months-pregnant with Zoe. We knew that at the time of the trip “the baby” would be a little over a year old. We went through several possible locations for the big trip –Japan, France, Morocco, the Caribbean. We decided on Costa Rica partially because it seemed like it would be a fun, interesting and relaxing trip to take with a young toddler, and it was.
One of the great highlights for all of us was seeing Zoe reach one of life’s great milestones during the first few days of the trip –she learned to walk. She had been taking steps for a few weeks but it was on the trip that she really took off and walked on her own. Of course she had a very excited fan club of parents and grandparents cheering her on.
Zoe was very different on this trip than on our summer trip to Europe. While she is still very young I did feel that she got more out of this trip than the last. She was giddy with excitement over the butterflies and giant cats in La Paz. She loved going in the hot springs at Arenol. She loved the beach at Papagayo and loved playing in the sand and swimming in the ocean. She loved all of the tropical fruit. Most of the people that we met were incredibly warm and friendly to her and she enjoyed making new friends. As she becomes more aware it becomes more and more fun for us to travel with her and to see her excitement at doing and seeing new things. The trip was such a success that we are taking another –next month we are going to California and Wyoming.
While I was living in Japan with my husband and two small children, I kept a running blog of our experiences. At one point, a friend asked me if there was anything about living there that really drove me crazy.
Honestly, there was very little about living in Japan that annoyed me, including some of the cultural differences that I understand drive many Americans crazy. For example, I knew a lot of Westerners who were constantly incensed while driving — muttering curses at pedestrians who didn’t yield to cars, etc. But since I was most often the pedestrian and not the driver, I tended not to see what’s so wrong about that. And I think many Americans in particular get annoyed at the whole “rules are rules, and they must be obeyed no matter what”-aspect of Japanese culture, but I didn’t run into many instances where I was truly irked by that. Bemused, perhaps, but not angry. If you lived in a country with so many people crammed into such small spaces, you would find that following the rules allows for a more peaceful coexistence than you might otherwise find. (Imagine riding the subway in New York City during rush hour and finding that it is almost totally silent – no one speaking to anyone else, no laughing, nothing. That’s the norm in Tokyo.)
However, one admittedly minor incident did get under my skin, both because it adversely affected my five-year-old daughter, and because it illustrated the downside of always following the rules and not recognizing the usefulness (and in this case, kindness) of making an exception. I took my daughter out to dinner at a local restaurant where she remembered getting a toy at the end of her meal when we’d been there in the past. This time, we sat down, ordered off the menu, and ate our dinner, but when we got to the checkout counter, there was no toy for my daughter. There *were* toys, right there in front of us, but the cashier told us they were only for kids who ordered off the children’s menu. We hadn’t been offered a kids menu, but that didn’t phase this woman. Neither did my daughter breaking into inconsolable sobs when she realized that she wasn’t getting the (crummy, cheap) toy that she so desperately wanted. Obviously, the woman was just following the rules. No kids menu, no toy, even if the kid had ordered a full-price adult meal
Needless to say, it soured my daughter on that restaurant from then on, but it did provide us with a lesson on one aspect of Japanese culture that we would encounter at other times during our stay in Japan. Recognizing that it was a cultural difference and not just rudeness on the part of the cashier helped both of us understand where the woman was coming from, and prepared us for similar experiences in the future.
Zoe loves cats. Her first word was “cat.” She loves to chase her cats and squeals with delight when she catches one (they don’t like this at all). She calls most animals “cat.” When my mom saw a “kittens for Obama” pin in a store she had to get it for us. We wear it proudly on our stroller. I love it for the Obama part. Zoe loves it for the picture of the kitten which she points to each time she gets into the stroller and says “Cat! Meow!”
Apparently my 13-month-old isn’t the only baby in lower Manhattan with a political view. Two blond boys have a sticker on their double stroller that reads “I’m an Obama kid.” A two-year-old whose mom runs a monogram business has “Go Obama” stitched in oversized letters onto the back of his Bugaboo. Other babies wear clothes that show their political preferences. My friend’s son is often seen wearing an Obama t-shirt. The other day I saw a little girl eating lunch at Whole Foods wearing a pink bib with a picture of Obama’s face. While I haven’t seen any babies for McCain around these parts there are a large selection of McCain baby shirts for sale online.
I liked these shirts and started to shop for one for Zoe. But then I stopped to think about how parents project political views onto their children. Is this appropriate? I asked some friends for their view on the subject. One friend told me that she doesn’t like when people project their political views on their baby because a) the baby didn’t choose this view, and b) it commercializes an innocent baby. I understand her opinion, but as another friend put it, as parents, we are constantly teaching our child about our family culture, which defines us as a family, and our political beliefs (along with religious beliefs, heritage, history, interests, sporting affiliations, etc.) are a part of what make up our culture. It is our job to teach all of this to our children. She also told me that she wanted her son to be a participant in this historic election which is also the first election of his lifetime, and to have something to prove that he was “there.”
I felt that both of my friends had very valid points. In the end I did buy Zoe a political shirt. It says “My Mama’s for Obama.” I hope it comes in time for Zoe to wear it on election day.
I came across a wonderful video about global citizenship earlier this week from A Place of Our Own. If you have a few minutes, click here to watch the short movie. Its a great piece on how you can teach your little citizens about the great big world.
Avoid red-eye flights – All flights from the U.S. to Buenos Aires are red-eye flights. We had the time and didn’t think our daughter would do well on a red-eye, so instead we flew Mexicana airlines to Mexico City during the day. We stayed at the airport Ramada hotel (recommended) and continued on the next day to Buenos Aires. This worked well for all of us, especially for Grace as she only had to nap on the plane, not try to get a full night’s sleep. This plan backfired on us on the return though when Mexicana canceled our return flight and we ended up on a red-eye anyway. Some parents say their kids do well on red-eyes by sleeping all the way through, so do what you think will work best for you and your child(ren).
Rent an apartment – Apartments for rent are widely available in Buenos Aires because of a hotel room shortage and because of investment real estate. Many of them are cheaper than comparable hotels. We paid $120/ night for a very nice 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom apartment in Palermo, a great neighborhood to stay in with a child. We rented through ApartmentsBA and found them professional and, apart from a few minor hiccups, easy to work with.
Keep your child on the time at home – If you’re from the West Coast that is. If you’re from the east coast the time difference is only 1 or 2 hours (depending on time of year), from the west coast it’s 4 or 5 hours. We kept our daughter on Oregon time by still feeding her dinner an hour before bedtime but at 8 or 9pm instead of 5 or 6pm. This way we were able to stay out until 9 or 10pm and sleep in until at least 8am. Argentines don’t even think about dinner until 9pm so by keeping her on a later schedule we could actually eat when locals eat.
Bring a portable booster seat – While most restaurants in Argentina have high chairs, some don’t. Of those that do have them, every single one we saw was actually just a tall chair with no straps or even bar to keep the child in. This might work with an older child but our daughter would have simply slid right out. Thankfully we had brought The First Years On The Go Booster Seat which fit nicely into the restaurant high chairs and kept our daughter in place.
Don’t bring diapers and wipes – We had heard diapers and wipes would be expensive but they really weren’t. Major U.S. brands (Pampers, Huggies) were available in every grocery store and pharmacy, so we were never without a place to buy them.
Do bring baby food – If your child is still eating pureed baby food you’ll need to bring it with you or bring a hand grinder to make your own. We had heard jarred baby food would be available but we checked in multiple large grocery stores and it never was. Our daughter was old enough that she was also eating table food, so it wasn’t a problem for us but could be a big headache for someone with a smaller baby. Our daughter drinks whole milk which was easy to find but formula also seemed easy to come by.
Bring a baby carrier – We highly recommend the Ergo baby carrier, no matter where you are traveling. See our list of essential travel gear for more information. We used it daily in Buenos Aires.
Bring a plastic changing pad. Diaper changing stations were very rare in public bathrooms. We either changed Grace’s diaper on the floor on a changing pad or just waited until we returned to the apartment. Since we returned at least once a day for naps this worked most days but there were a few emergencies where the bathroom floor had to do. We were told all McDonald’s have changing stations and McDonald’s are everywhere.