Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Cross Culture Baby Issues, point 2

Yesterday, I had my second cross-culture baby experience.  I'm finding this surprising, because I really didn't have any cross-culture pregnancy encounters in the Philippines (though India was rife with such experiences).

I met a new friend for lunch yesterday - we had corresponded over email and Facebook, but had yet to meet in person.  She arrived in Manila just as I was leaving on prego-vac.  With three boys, each just over a year older than mine, and having spent significant time in Texas in her pre-FS life, we obviously have a good amount to talk about.

Ian came along for the lunch date, of course, since I'm still feeding him.  He gets one pumped bottle a day now, so that he knows how to drink a bottle when I go back to work. (Note: we were lax giving Wm bottles, and pretty much gave up after month three since breastfeeding was so much easier - but then when I went back to work when he was seven months, the first two days he refused to drink, causing much stress for both of us.  So, with Patch and Ian, I've kept up the bottle a day regimen, even though pumping while home is super annoying.)  Ian had already had his bottle that morning, so of course he had to come.

Except the nanny expected to come, too!

In the Philippines, the nannies (often dressed in cheery print scrubs, like pediatric nurses in the US) accompany the families everywhere.  Kids playing happily with nannies just outside restaurants, while parents enjoy a meal with uninterrupted conversation, is common place.  Except, while I certainly enjoy having a nanny to watch my kids during the day and be available almost every time we need a last minute evening babysitter, I just can't quite bring myself to tote her along to carry my baby while I eat.

Somehow, had Ian been napping and I went out for an hour, that would be OK.  But having him awake and being carried by someone else while I pretended to be a "lady who lunched" seemed too dismissive of my child.

I thus had to carefully explain to our nanny that my not wanting her to come was in no way a reflection that I thought she was doing a bad job caring for Ian. Or that I was embarrassed by her (well, I guess I am a bit embarrassed - but not by her appearance or how she would hold Ian - but for my own sense of propriety).

We made up later, when I asked her to come along to the grocery store.  Let's face it, it's much easier to push around a grocery cart and pick out fresh veggies when you don't have to juggle a squirmy baby in an Ergo carrier.

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