PEKIP and the New Year
Happy 2008! Fernando, Leo, Marco and I have been back in Hannover for almost two weeks and we all seem to be riding a wave of new year optimism, an entire half-month in! Maybe it’s the weather, which has been almost sunny a few times and only bitter cold once. Maybe it’s Fernando’s new projects at work. Maybe it’s the orderly stacks of last year’s Christmas trees on the street corner, still with their intoxicating pine scent, awaiting their scheduled pick up. Maybe it’s our upstairs neighbors, who have mostly chosen to limit their tireless stomping (they would probably refer to it as walking) to the pre-midnight hours. Maybe it’s Marco, who decided a few weeks ago that he actually liked life outside the womb. Or maybe it’s the nearby pond, which has been full of ducks. Whatever might be contributing to this sense of well being, it certainly feels like a fresh start is in order.
And while exactly a year ago I resolved to get more involved in Hannover’s international women’s group (see blog entry from January 2007), this year I am asserting a somewhat different position. In 2008 I will not feel compelled to join every playgroup that I hear about, or attend every parent and child class that someone scribbles about on the back of an envelope. And I will not, I repeat-- will NOT-- on any account, return to PEKIP class.
PEKIP is the acronym, in German, for The Prague Program for Parents and Children. Developed by a famous Czech psychologist in the early 1970’s, this course designed for parents and their babies during the first year of life is a bit like Bikram yoga. Not in the poses or anything, but in PEKIP’s status as a “brand”. That is, no matter where you go to for this 90-minute, bonding-with-baby experience, be it in Berlin or Bonn, it will look and feel pretty much the same. The instructor, who has been trained for hundreds of hours at a PEKIP pedagogical institute and indoctrinated in the Prague Program’s “concept”, leads a maximum of ten similarly-aged babies and their parents through a sequence of activities, games and songs. Since the babies often begin their PEKIP education at as young as four to six weeks, the age-appropriate activities often include such basic things as lying down, being carried around by mom in a circle, tickled with a brightly colored silk scarf, getting rubbed down with oil, and serenaded with simple songs. What distinguishes PEKIP from a typical day at home with Mom or Dad, then, is that the babies are naked, and the room, often a yoga studio, is really warm. Oh, and it costs 10 € a pop, which is more than Germans would normally pay for 90 minutes of just about anything.
Enrolling in a PEKIP class is about as obvious to modern German mothers as breathing. After conceiving, “signing up for PEKIP” is one of the first entries on any self-respecting expectant mother’s to-do list, right after that appointment with the OB/GYN to confirm the pregnancy. So after having several PEKIP alumnae tell me about how great these weekly classes were, how friendships between the adults had been maintained even after the course year ended, and just how darn cute it was to behold ten shiny little bottoms wriggling around the floor each week, I decided to enroll myself and future baby Venegas. Luckily for me, there was a nearby community center type place whose PEKIP instructors had a good reputation. The director of the center spoke some English and promptly sent me Xeroxed descriptions of the course’s philosophy, shakily translated from the German. I was granted a spot in a 6-session class (with the option to continue on afterwards) beginning in November of ‘07, with 9 other babies born in July and August. And when the class I had been assigned turned out to be held during one of Leo’s mornings at kindergarten, I was sure an angel was watching over me. I paid the fee, read about the PEKIP philosophy, and waited in anticipation for the classes to begin.
Well, everything the informational hand-outs described turned out to be true, and from our very first class! While PEKIP can be nice for both babies and parents—maybe even beneficial—after only one session I already had my doubts. Please read on.
As per the PEKIP philosophy…
“A naked infant moves more spontaneously and intensive. He has more skin contact with the parent, cries less and is altogether more content”.
Marco did seem at ease being naked, but even more thrilled was his mother, having had little prior opportunity to contemplate her second-born in the buff (our apartment is always drafty and our summer was non-existent). I delighted in counting Marco’s thigh rolls and observing the rubber-band skin creases marking the spot where wrists and ankles would someday be. But after about twenty minutes of cooing and heavy flirting directed at the instructor Karine, my future teacher’s pet son started to get fussy-- a full 30 minutes before the other babies. It was clear he was due for his next nap, but as his whines and whimpers progressed predictably in both frequency and pitch, it became difficult for any adult to talk and be heard. So Karine decided to use Marco as a didactic example of what happens to babies when they feel TOO naked. She implored me to put his clothes back on him. Like a scolded puppy I returned Marco to his clothed state, smiling smugly when it became obvious that clothing was not going to stop his howls. Now irritated, Karine asked me to plug Marco with a pacifier so that the rest of the group could get some peace and quiet-- and that shut both of us up, for a couple minutes anyway.
“When the baby is tired, he may sleep. When he is thirsty he may drink.”
Yes, OK. But the hand-out would have done well to include: “when he must pee and poop, he may”. In Marco’s case, it was when his bare bottom was on my lap. I was wearing a new pair of beige corduroys and he was pooping a delightful stream of dark green. Good thing there were buckets of water and towels precisely for this all-too-common PEKIP occurrence. Anyone on the street who happened to glance down at my pant leg during our (thankfully short) walk home after class would have guessed correctly if they thought mother and child had just been at that naked baby class.
“The adults have the possibility to watch other children. They realize that every baby has his own rhythm, shows different behavior patterns and develops in his own manner”.
Oh, so true. So as my wee one wailed away, sweating bullets since he had been forced to wear clothes in this tropical, so-called “nude space”, I was instructed to sit on a yoga ball and bounce the baby back to bliss. I bounced away, my lids heavy from lack of sleep and the room’s excessive humidity, and compared my weeping child to his peers. There was long and lean Garrett, drooling contentedly on his belly… There was chubby Moritz, lounging face-up on his mother’s lap… was that kid … asleep? … There was delicate little Nora, reclining in her mother’s arms enjoying a bottle of milk. But just as I was starting to go completely green with envy, wondering why I got the cranky one, one by one, Marco’s contemporaries began to fuss. And fuss some more. At 70 minutes elapsed class time, Karine had to project her voice to be heard over the cries, and the mothers were looking exasperated as they fumbled around to gather their things and begin the process of leaving. At 80 minutes the room was at half capacity, with Karine reminding us stragglers multiple times about bringing the apricot oil for the following week’s meeting. And at 90 minutes on the dot, Marco and I were finally outside again, breathing in the cool November air and beginning our walk home. Seconds after rounding the corner away from the building, Marco was fast asleep in his carriage, and I felt as free as a bird (a bird with pooped-on cords, of course)
“During the group meetings there are also times when mothers/fathers can talk in a relaxed atmosphere and share experiences”.
Compared to other parent-child classes I had attended in Germany, PEKIP was a chat-fest, and this posed a problem. Karine advised about parenting and mothers alternated between complaining and boasting about their babies. Since my German is not exactly stellar, I limited my own contributions and just concentrated on trying to keep up with the topic at hand. For the most part I could tell if the mothers were complaining about night feedings or fevers; describing too short naps or nasty diaper rash. Furthermore, totally unlike the other classes I’ve attended here, not a single woman wanted to practice her English on me. Nobody dared to even try, not even during the casual “meet and greet” period toward the beginning. So not only did I not do much talking, it was pretty obvious I wouldn’t be making any friends in PEKIP class, either. And since I was the only second-time mother in the group, my current concerns were somewhat different. I was worried about how to keep Marco’s wails from waking up Leo, and how to keep germy Leo from infecting the baby. I didn’t care at all to rehash labor and delivery stories or exchange birthweights (understandably, favored topics with first time moms).
“The babies are offered positions and postures in which they can become active themselves”.
During the class I learned some nice holding techniques for a fussy baby and a gentler way of picking them up from a lying position (tilt baby to side and then scoop). But I was annoyed when more than once Karine used my technique with Marco as an example of how NOT to handle a baby! For example, when she saw me dressing him back up again while in a seated position on my lap, she instructed me to never bend the baby’s back at such an angle, warning me against future “back problems”, folding herself into an improbably bad-postured position to help get her point across. I had been aware of this German fear of anything that would take a baby from the flat-lying position during the first year, and had been ignoring it, in favor of the American style—propping babies up in car seats, Johnny jump ups, swings, Exersaucers, strollers and the like as soon as they can hold their heads up. And as this non-medical person rested her eyes on me while warning the class against car seat over-use, I had visions of that American Olympian swimmer—a young man with quite a back, Michael Phelps I think?—and wondered how much better a swimmer he’d be now if only Mrs. Phelps had made him lie flatter. But I just smiled faintly, nodding that I understood her, thinking about maybe not returning the following week.
And while exactly a year ago I resolved to get more involved in Hannover’s international women’s group (see blog entry from January 2007), this year I am asserting a somewhat different position. In 2008 I will not feel compelled to join every playgroup that I hear about, or attend every parent and child class that someone scribbles about on the back of an envelope. And I will not, I repeat-- will NOT-- on any account, return to PEKIP class.
PEKIP is the acronym, in German, for The Prague Program for Parents and Children. Developed by a famous Czech psychologist in the early 1970’s, this course designed for parents and their babies during the first year of life is a bit like Bikram yoga. Not in the poses or anything, but in PEKIP’s status as a “brand”. That is, no matter where you go to for this 90-minute, bonding-with-baby experience, be it in Berlin or Bonn, it will look and feel pretty much the same. The instructor, who has been trained for hundreds of hours at a PEKIP pedagogical institute and indoctrinated in the Prague Program’s “concept”, leads a maximum of ten similarly-aged babies and their parents through a sequence of activities, games and songs. Since the babies often begin their PEKIP education at as young as four to six weeks, the age-appropriate activities often include such basic things as lying down, being carried around by mom in a circle, tickled with a brightly colored silk scarf, getting rubbed down with oil, and serenaded with simple songs. What distinguishes PEKIP from a typical day at home with Mom or Dad, then, is that the babies are naked, and the room, often a yoga studio, is really warm. Oh, and it costs 10 € a pop, which is more than Germans would normally pay for 90 minutes of just about anything.
Enrolling in a PEKIP class is about as obvious to modern German mothers as breathing. After conceiving, “signing up for PEKIP” is one of the first entries on any self-respecting expectant mother’s to-do list, right after that appointment with the OB/GYN to confirm the pregnancy. So after having several PEKIP alumnae tell me about how great these weekly classes were, how friendships between the adults had been maintained even after the course year ended, and just how darn cute it was to behold ten shiny little bottoms wriggling around the floor each week, I decided to enroll myself and future baby Venegas. Luckily for me, there was a nearby community center type place whose PEKIP instructors had a good reputation. The director of the center spoke some English and promptly sent me Xeroxed descriptions of the course’s philosophy, shakily translated from the German. I was granted a spot in a 6-session class (with the option to continue on afterwards) beginning in November of ‘07, with 9 other babies born in July and August. And when the class I had been assigned turned out to be held during one of Leo’s mornings at kindergarten, I was sure an angel was watching over me. I paid the fee, read about the PEKIP philosophy, and waited in anticipation for the classes to begin.
Well, everything the informational hand-outs described turned out to be true, and from our very first class! While PEKIP can be nice for both babies and parents—maybe even beneficial—after only one session I already had my doubts. Please read on.
As per the PEKIP philosophy…
“A naked infant moves more spontaneously and intensive. He has more skin contact with the parent, cries less and is altogether more content”.
Marco did seem at ease being naked, but even more thrilled was his mother, having had little prior opportunity to contemplate her second-born in the buff (our apartment is always drafty and our summer was non-existent). I delighted in counting Marco’s thigh rolls and observing the rubber-band skin creases marking the spot where wrists and ankles would someday be. But after about twenty minutes of cooing and heavy flirting directed at the instructor Karine, my future teacher’s pet son started to get fussy-- a full 30 minutes before the other babies. It was clear he was due for his next nap, but as his whines and whimpers progressed predictably in both frequency and pitch, it became difficult for any adult to talk and be heard. So Karine decided to use Marco as a didactic example of what happens to babies when they feel TOO naked. She implored me to put his clothes back on him. Like a scolded puppy I returned Marco to his clothed state, smiling smugly when it became obvious that clothing was not going to stop his howls. Now irritated, Karine asked me to plug Marco with a pacifier so that the rest of the group could get some peace and quiet-- and that shut both of us up, for a couple minutes anyway.
“When the baby is tired, he may sleep. When he is thirsty he may drink.”
Yes, OK. But the hand-out would have done well to include: “when he must pee and poop, he may”. In Marco’s case, it was when his bare bottom was on my lap. I was wearing a new pair of beige corduroys and he was pooping a delightful stream of dark green. Good thing there were buckets of water and towels precisely for this all-too-common PEKIP occurrence. Anyone on the street who happened to glance down at my pant leg during our (thankfully short) walk home after class would have guessed correctly if they thought mother and child had just been at that naked baby class.
“The adults have the possibility to watch other children. They realize that every baby has his own rhythm, shows different behavior patterns and develops in his own manner”.
Oh, so true. So as my wee one wailed away, sweating bullets since he had been forced to wear clothes in this tropical, so-called “nude space”, I was instructed to sit on a yoga ball and bounce the baby back to bliss. I bounced away, my lids heavy from lack of sleep and the room’s excessive humidity, and compared my weeping child to his peers. There was long and lean Garrett, drooling contentedly on his belly… There was chubby Moritz, lounging face-up on his mother’s lap… was that kid … asleep? … There was delicate little Nora, reclining in her mother’s arms enjoying a bottle of milk. But just as I was starting to go completely green with envy, wondering why I got the cranky one, one by one, Marco’s contemporaries began to fuss. And fuss some more. At 70 minutes elapsed class time, Karine had to project her voice to be heard over the cries, and the mothers were looking exasperated as they fumbled around to gather their things and begin the process of leaving. At 80 minutes the room was at half capacity, with Karine reminding us stragglers multiple times about bringing the apricot oil for the following week’s meeting. And at 90 minutes on the dot, Marco and I were finally outside again, breathing in the cool November air and beginning our walk home. Seconds after rounding the corner away from the building, Marco was fast asleep in his carriage, and I felt as free as a bird (a bird with pooped-on cords, of course)
“During the group meetings there are also times when mothers/fathers can talk in a relaxed atmosphere and share experiences”.
Compared to other parent-child classes I had attended in Germany, PEKIP was a chat-fest, and this posed a problem. Karine advised about parenting and mothers alternated between complaining and boasting about their babies. Since my German is not exactly stellar, I limited my own contributions and just concentrated on trying to keep up with the topic at hand. For the most part I could tell if the mothers were complaining about night feedings or fevers; describing too short naps or nasty diaper rash. Furthermore, totally unlike the other classes I’ve attended here, not a single woman wanted to practice her English on me. Nobody dared to even try, not even during the casual “meet and greet” period toward the beginning. So not only did I not do much talking, it was pretty obvious I wouldn’t be making any friends in PEKIP class, either. And since I was the only second-time mother in the group, my current concerns were somewhat different. I was worried about how to keep Marco’s wails from waking up Leo, and how to keep germy Leo from infecting the baby. I didn’t care at all to rehash labor and delivery stories or exchange birthweights (understandably, favored topics with first time moms).
“The babies are offered positions and postures in which they can become active themselves”.
During the class I learned some nice holding techniques for a fussy baby and a gentler way of picking them up from a lying position (tilt baby to side and then scoop). But I was annoyed when more than once Karine used my technique with Marco as an example of how NOT to handle a baby! For example, when she saw me dressing him back up again while in a seated position on my lap, she instructed me to never bend the baby’s back at such an angle, warning me against future “back problems”, folding herself into an improbably bad-postured position to help get her point across. I had been aware of this German fear of anything that would take a baby from the flat-lying position during the first year, and had been ignoring it, in favor of the American style—propping babies up in car seats, Johnny jump ups, swings, Exersaucers, strollers and the like as soon as they can hold their heads up. And as this non-medical person rested her eyes on me while warning the class against car seat over-use, I had visions of that American Olympian swimmer—a young man with quite a back, Michael Phelps I think?—and wondered how much better a swimmer he’d be now if only Mrs. Phelps had made him lie flatter. But I just smiled faintly, nodding that I understood her, thinking about maybe not returning the following week.
I made it to three of the six PEKIP classes. After the first class described here, it was a struggle to motivate myself to keep going, even though the babies do like it (see photos) and it is really cute. Might PEKIP be for you? If this is not your first baby, your German isn’t that good, and you don’t like being incorporated as one of the instructor’s learning props, then I suggest you just play with your baby at home. He has a whole life ahead of him for songs and games, and can keep his clothes on, too.
posted by J&F at 5:14 AM
2 comments
