Over the next few weeks we will be introducing you to some of our newest Mommyblogger contributing authors. First up, we have Caroline of First Paris Then Rome.

My name is Caroline and I am a 38-year old mom of one little girl, aged three. I was born and raised in Canada and spent my early adult years there as well. I am now living in Europe with my partner (who happens to be French) and our daughter, a "third culture kid" whom I hope will grow up to be both French and Canadian.

Until last year, we were living in Paris, France, where I worked as a lawyer. Then in September 2006, when we moved to Rome, Italy. Since our big move, I have resisted returning to the legal field and instead have taken to freelance writing and recording my thoughts about being a North American parent in continental Europe on my blog, First Paris Then Rome.

We hope you will make her feel welcome. Below is her first contribution to our site. Thank you, Caroline, for joining our ranks. We are happy to have you.

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Since I am going to be writing regularly for Mommy Bloggers, I thought that I would first tell you all a little bit more about myself.

There are two important things that you should know about me. First, I am Canadian. I suppose that makes me kind of like an American with Swedish political tendencies. If you have ever been anywhere in English-speaking Canada, you know what I mean. We can only purchase alcohol at special stores that are owned and operated by the state. We have universal public health insurance (perish the thought of having those dreadful HMOs invade our country). And we don't care much about women baring their breasts. (In fact, in Canada, it is perfectly legal for a woman to go topless in the street or wherever she pleases. But in true Canadian fashion, we never do take off our shirts. We're too shy (and anyway, it's too cold).

But the second thing about me is that I do not live in Canada. I live in Europe, currently in Rome, Italy, with my French partner (the Frenchman) and our three-year old daughter (the Bambina. Before moving to Rome last year, we lived in Paris, France.

Even after seven years in Europe, I definitely stick out here, not just because I don't speak flawless Italian or French, but because I don't wear stiletto heals when I take my daughter out for a walk in her stroller, or a business suit and silk scarf for grocery shopping, or gold hoop earrings and high heels on the beach. I wear jeans quite often and people usually assume that I am foreign. Women from the European continent like to make sure that they look elegant and feminine at all times. As a Canadian, I settle for looking like a scruffy North American tourist for the sake of comfort.

And it is not just how women dress that differentiates Europe from North American. You learn how cultural parenting really is when you move to another country and see how it is done there. When I was pregnant in France with the Bambina, I submitted a birth plan to the hospital where I was to give birth. The doctors and midwives had never seen one before and didn't think much of it. They treated my request to be able to move around during labour as "serious". My next discovery was that the French attitude towards breastfeeding is that breasts are first and foremost for the enjoyment of men not the nourishment of children and certainly not for infants over the age of four months (this attitude is changing, thankfully). And of course, good Anglo-Saxon, bourgeois mommy that I am, I keep up-to-date on every opinion, development, and trend concerning infants and children. So of course, the Bambina didn't get her first pair of real shoes until the ripe age of fifteen months. Meanwhile, her little French friends were wearing shoes at ten months to "help them learn to walk".

Basically, I find the Europeans about ten to fifteen (and maybe even twenty, in Italy) behind on issues relating to childcare and child development, kind of like they are with smoking laws and access for disabled person (Canada's English speaking provinces passed its no smoking laws something like twenty years ago. France will ban smoking in restaurants as of next year).

On the other hand, when I visit North America, I feel ill after one week. Please excuse me when I say that the North American diet is terrible. And it is not just I who have this view. Every other North American whom I have met who has lived in Europe agrees with me on this one. Even the fresh vegetables in North America look somehow processed (is it the wax?) and the choices, especially for fresh fruits and vegetables, are limited. And too much comes from a box or package. And people drink too much milk.

Most importantly, North Americans have forgotten how to eat. They skip meals and/or eat on the run. And when they do eat at the table, the meal often lacks variety. The Bambina has been getting proper, four-course lunches at her various daycares (fully public daycare in Paris, private in Italy) since the age of one, usually consisting of (1) bread (in France) or pasta (in Italy), (2) meat, (3) vegetable, (4) dairy (cheese), (5) fruit. I cannot imagine any daycare in North America going through this kind of trouble for meals for one-year olds. And my American and Canadian friends seem to think that a plate of pasta constitutes a proper "meal" for a child.