Teutonic Tuesday — German mothers

Having a child has opened the door for me into the mysterious world of The German Mother. Does having a half-German baby make me a German Mother? Or a half German mother? Or what?

After 10 months of having a little human wearing out your pelvic muscles (and hours of labor finishing up the job), your typical German mother visits an exercise class 6-8 weeks after delivery. This is covered in the heath insurance here gives the German Mother a chance to: a.) Get out of the house; b.) Compare her post-baby body to other women's, and; c.) Compare her baby's abilities to others. My course ended yesterday, and some of us went out for coffee afterwards. One mother, Nina, said, "So, did you guys have any hobbies before you had your babies? I mean, so we can maybe talk about something else OTHER than the babies?"

I like Nina. And her question got me thinking: What did I do before Harper was born? Who was that person then? And who the hell am I now? But that is neither here nor there. And the conversation took its typical turn when mothers on maternity leave get together: What do you do? And when will you be going back to do it?

Me: Editor of a trade newspaper. Will be going back full time in October.
Other Mothers: Really? So soon? Full time? I'm going back in the fall/next year/at some indefinite date in the future, but then I'll only be working 8/15/20 hours a week. And who will take care of Harper?
Me: My husband.
One Other Mother: Oh... I don't think I could trust my husband with that.

Compared to the U.S., we have awesome laws here in Germany for mothers. For the first year we take off of work, we get 67% of our average net income. Your employer has to hire you back if you take off the entire allotted three years of "parent time." When I think of how soon my American counterparts have to go back to work, it's absolutely laughable to say that October is too soon for me to go back — 10 months after Harper was born and almost a year since I've worked (thanks to the six weeks of maternity leave before the due date).

The typical German mother will — despite all laws — end up working part time and kind of end up in a rut in her career. I'm not saying this is neither bad nor good. I'm am not a career-oriented woman personally, and if I could do it, I would just stay home forever and have more kids. Seriously. But I am also fortunate enough to live in a country where my journalism degree and my ability to speak my native language are invaluable. So, despite the knots I already get in my stomach when I think about it, I will turn the keys over to our kid over to my husband in October.

But I digress. Many of The German Mothers here in Frankfurt, particularly in the part of the city where we live, are a ... uh ... unique bunch. We live kind of on the border between normal and super-fucking rich. In fact, we can watch super-fucking rich from our balcony. And these mothers are the worst sort. They are usually around 40, dress their kids up in designer clothes and will mercilessly play chicken with you on a narrow sidewalk with their Bugaboo baby carriages. They name their kids things like "Maximillian", "Benedict", and "Justus" and let them run the show. Or rather, they let their Au Pairs let them run the show. It's fun to watch rich-people parenting from our balcony in the summer, when the kids are in their backyards, yelling demands at their parents. And this summer, like the childless ones before, Björn and I will look at each other and say, "We are so going to do things differently."