This video really made me smile.
How to hold a baby
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This is how you hold a baby. Beijing, June 2013.
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I learned pretty quickly when I was pregnant that ‘Beijingren’ love babies! They really love them. And they know all about them. Even better they are very happy to share all that information with you. Whether you’d like to hear it or not.
This might sound like any other country, but I think perhaps people were just a bit pushier with their unsolicited advice in China.
One friend couldn’t leave her apartment without well-meaning neighbours chiding her for not putting socks on her newborn infant. They didn’t care it was 35C outside. Another was told off for taking her daughter out the house before she was a year old. (I exaggerate, but I did tell people Ted was three months old when he was closer to four weeks, to avoid the tutting).
So it was, I found myself taking Ted for an early morning walk in his pram through our apartment complex.
I was pretty excited as we’d barely left the house since he’d been born thanks to the terrible air pollution. Ted, however, wasn’t playing ball and started wailing within minutes of leaving the apartment.
I hoiked him out of the pram and onto my shoulder to calm him down. So I’d got baby in one hand and I was pushing the pram with the other.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a couple of ladies out for their morning exercise.
I gave my smug new mother smile, knowing they would probably want to come and have a chat. One of them seemed particularly keen, and started making a bee line for us, so I slowed down ready to say how old Ted was in my best Mandarin. “Yes, he really is three months!”
No sooner had I stopped than Lady Number One was tapping me on the arm with a very cross look on her face. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but clearly something was offending her.
As we weren’t getting anywhere with words, she took matters into her own hands and prised Ted from my shoulder. With great exaggeration she turned him around and cradled him in her arms, looking at me pointedly. Clearly, I had been taking huge liberties with the welfare of my child by holding him upright against my shoulder. Babies should be held firmly in the crook of your arm.
I was kind of shocked by this whole exchange and a little bit nervous, but I still had the presence of mind to take a photo. Or two. It’s not everyday you get an impromptu lesson in baby care on the street from two little old ladies. Ted, sensing he was finally in the hands of someone who knew what they were doing, instantly calmed down and did a model baby impression while I worked out how to ask for him back.
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Lady Number One holding Ted in the correct position.
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Being pregnant in Beijing
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| Waiting for the subway after Easter brunch at Capital M. It was a really smoggy day, there were no taxis and no seats on the train. |
The observant among you may have noticed that this blog hasn’t been updated in some time.
I have an excuse. I had a baby.
I had actually intended to tell you all about being pregnant in Beijing – there was a lot of material; it felt like something bonkers happened every ten minutes. But as soon as I found out I was expecting, I just couldn’t write about it.
I was so scared of something going wrong, I didn’t want to jinx myself. So the months ticked by and the blog lay fallow despite all the weird and wonderful things that were happening to me and the bump.
Then our bouncing baby boy arrived in May last year and there was just no time or energy to write.
So I got on the phone to the mama, who got on the phone to her ayi, who turned the hallway cupboard upside down and lo and behold found a set of keys. I don’t know who was more pleased when we finally got the blimming table into the car – me, husband or Beijing’s most patient taxi driver.
He is a joy. But he turns eight months tomorrow and last night was the first night he slept through.
Unless I count New Year’s Eve when I forgot to turn the monitor on…
Anyway, it would be such a shame not to share with you some of the highs and lows of those crazy nine months, so before the baby wakes up here are five things every expat expectant mother in Beijing should know.
Unless I count New Year’s Eve when I forgot to turn the monitor on…
Anyway, it would be such a shame not to share with you some of the highs and lows of those crazy nine months, so before the baby wakes up here are five things every expat expectant mother in Beijing should know.
1. It’s very hard to order a cup of tea
We – me and the ever-growing bump – had gone to a very fancy European-style tea salon in Sanlitun with the British Club.
The sweet male waiter didn’t have a lot of English but it was clear he was trying to suggest I have a glass of water not risk a cup of tea while pregnant. Luckily, I had just done the ‘Doctor, my head hurts!’ Mandarin lesson so I was able to tell him that my doctor told me ‘tea is okay’!
The same thing happened after a prenatal massage. I asked for ‘cha’ but I got hot water and a knowing look from the masseuse. Better to be safe than sorry.
2. People will shout at you on the street. They may also offer you a seat on the subway.
You get used to being stared at in Beijing. I think most foreigners are stared at.
You get used to being stared at in Beijing. I think most foreigners are stared at.
But as I got bigger and bigger, the stares got harder and harder until they eventually turned into cat calls. My favourite was the woman in our local hutong who, grinning, leant out of her shop door and yelled ‘Liang ge!’ – rough translation, ‘lady you are massive, you must have two babies in there’.
Occasionally, being such a curiosity did work to my advantage. I was given a seat, on the subway, in Beijing. Enough said.
3. Your maternity look will most days include a mask.
You may have heard Beijing has a bit of an air pollution problem. I wore my face mask a lot. I often felt embarrassed as despite the air being heavy with smog on many days, few people wear masks. Happily, this is a city where most preggie ladies get around in smocks adorned with bows and bears, so I was not the daggiest preggo in town.
4. In the supermarket, you will have to identify essential items like ‘maternity pads’ using the power of mime.
Simple tasks become difficult when you can barely speak the language and you can only recognise about three written words (big, hello, and exit, if you’re interested). Hence I found myself standing in the female sanitary aisle at Carrefour trying to ask the very helpful shop assistants which were the most absorbent ‘products’. Cue lots of sticking the bump out and pointing at different boxes, while trying to mime ‘most absorbent’.
Myself and my equally pregnant pal, Aleasha, found the maxi pads and were then given a guided tour of the nappy section where we were presented with a sample of each nappy to examine for absorbency, thickness and softness. Genius.
Simple tasks become difficult when you can barely speak the language and you can only recognise about three written words (big, hello, and exit, if you’re interested). Hence I found myself standing in the female sanitary aisle at Carrefour trying to ask the very helpful shop assistants which were the most absorbent ‘products’. Cue lots of sticking the bump out and pointing at different boxes, while trying to mime ‘most absorbent’.
Myself and my equally pregnant pal, Aleasha, found the maxi pads and were then given a guided tour of the nappy section where we were presented with a sample of each nappy to examine for absorbency, thickness and softness. Genius.
5. When picking up bargain baby gear, make sure it will fit in the taxi.
I was told many times that Beijing is a great place to have a baby as you can have plenty of help at home and save loads of money on baby equipment buying from other expats.
My second-hand buying spree went smoothly until the Great IKEA Changjng Table Incident of 2013.
The changing table in question can be brought new from IKEA for 300 kwai and for not much more you can have it delivered and assembled in your home. Instead, I arranged to buy a used one from a lady a couple of streets away for a bargain 100 kwai.
Hubby knew this was a bad idea from the start but given my hormonal state wisely chose to say nothing. I waited in the taxi while the other half went to get the table. He appeared five minutes later with an IKEA kids’ play table – the mama making the sale was out and her ayi had given him the wrong table. So I called the mama, who then called her ayi, who then gave hubby the right table. Phew.
Now all we had to do was get the table in the taxi.
After 15 minutes of the driver trying the table every which way, seeking counsel from the gathering crowd on the pavement, getting bits of rope out the boot to try to tie the stupid table onto the taxi, I could feel tears and panic welling. This table was not going to fit in the taxi. I was about to throw myself down on the pavement when hubby muttered the immortal words, ‘If only we had an Allen key’.
I was told many times that Beijing is a great place to have a baby as you can have plenty of help at home and save loads of money on baby equipment buying from other expats.
My second-hand buying spree went smoothly until the Great IKEA Changjng Table Incident of 2013.
The changing table in question can be brought new from IKEA for 300 kwai and for not much more you can have it delivered and assembled in your home. Instead, I arranged to buy a used one from a lady a couple of streets away for a bargain 100 kwai.
Hubby knew this was a bad idea from the start but given my hormonal state wisely chose to say nothing. I waited in the taxi while the other half went to get the table. He appeared five minutes later with an IKEA kids’ play table – the mama making the sale was out and her ayi had given him the wrong table. So I called the mama, who then called her ayi, who then gave hubby the right table. Phew.
Now all we had to do was get the table in the taxi.
After 15 minutes of the driver trying the table every which way, seeking counsel from the gathering crowd on the pavement, getting bits of rope out the boot to try to tie the stupid table onto the taxi, I could feel tears and panic welling. This table was not going to fit in the taxi. I was about to throw myself down on the pavement when hubby muttered the immortal words, ‘If only we had an Allen key’.
So I got on the phone to the mama, who got on the phone to her ayi, who turned the hallway cupboard upside down and lo and behold found a set of keys. I don’t know who was more pleased when we finally got the blimming table into the car – me, husband or Beijing’s most patient taxi driver.
When we pulled into our complex, the meter was reading 50 kwai and we tipped the guy another 50 kwai. So it worked out marginally cheaper than a new one. My advice? Go to IKEA.
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