• I moved from Paris to Florida 10 years ago.

• I'm raising my daughter, now 8, in the US.

• I wasn't prepared for how differently people parent here.

I grew up in France, and before moving to Fort Lauderdale 10 years ago, I had no idea how different it was to raise a child in the US. I tried to make some adjustments to fit better into American culture, but there were some French parenting norms I just couldn't let go of.

My daughter learned table manners at age 3

For the French, what we eat is as important as how we eat. When my daughter was 3, I taught her to sit up while eating without resting her elbows on the table, holding her fork in one hand and her knife in the other. Being French, I see it as a way to show respect to others. I also find it more pleasant to be around people who eat nicely.

Every time I go to the restaurant, I notice that American parents have a more casual approach. My daughter doesn't understand why other kids are allowed to eat with their fingers and chew with an open mouth, but she isn't. I stand firm on the matter because I believe she will have better opportunities in life if she has good manners.

I don't give her extra screen time or reward her for chores

My daughter, now 8, has a lot of spare time after school and on the weekends to do what she wants, including screen time. However, I set clear limits. She can only watch 45 minutes of television daily. She doesn't have a phone or a tablet, and she isn't allowed to use mine to access the internet. In the pediatrician's waiting room, she is the one holding a book instead of a phone.

I don't reward her with additional screen time, even for good grades at school, whereas her friends are granted more time on their devices. In fact, I never offer her incentives to do anything, though it seems Americans are more likely to do so.

My daughter told me that her friends receive money for setting the table or putting away the dishes. I prefer to establish clear boundaries. I explained to her that it is her responsibility to help at home and that there is no incentive to do so. She knows that if she doesn't help, I will be disappointed, which she doesn't want. Now, she sets the table without me asking.

At gatherings, I have noticed that some parents regard me with curiosity when they see my daughter sitting quietly next to me, while their kids are racing around the tables. They probably perceive me as too strict.

I avoid over-praising my daughter

I admire the time and energy that my American friends devote to fostering their children's self-esteem. They never miss sports practice to encourage and support them, whereas I just drop my kid off and go do something else.

At the library, I regularly witness young children making ordinary scribbles. Their American moms always compliment them as if they were Picasso: "That's fantastic; you're very talented!"

I don't give overly positive feedback to my child, especially when she rushes through a drawing with minimal effort. When she returns from school with an A, I just say, "Good job on your hard work," while many of her classmates get gifts and lots of praise from their moms.

I want my daughter to be confident, too, but I worry that overconfidence can inhibit self-reflection and improvement. To help her believe in herself, I focus on independence.

Overparenting is not for me; I prefer to rely on independence

Ever since she was very little, I have tried to encourage my daughter's independence and pushed her to do things on her own. I think that builds her confidence, and it also allows me to have more time for myself.

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At six months, she slept alone in her bed without waking us through the night. At 4, she tied her shoelaces and got dressed for school by herself, which gave me more time to get ready. At 8, she manages her homework without my supervision. It teaches her to be responsible for her actions. If she doesn't complete it, she receives a failing grade, something she strongly dislikes.

Now that I live in the US, I realize that helicopter parenting really exists. Many parents here supervise their children rather than let them do things on their own. My friends closely monitor homework, even when it overwhelms them and their kids.

In our competitive society, I understand parents' desire to help, especially with assignments. However, that approach doesn't suit me. I prefer to spend the time I dedicate to my child at the beach, laughing, rather than reciting multiplication tables.

There is no right way to parent, and raising a kid in a country with another culture has not always been straightforward for me. But our family has so far found a balance between French and American parenting that works for us, although my daughter feels a stronger connection to American culture.

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• I realized my college-age daughter never asked me to send her money.

• When I asked her why, she told me she budgets and lives off $100 a week.

• She told me she likes the independence of paying for herself.

My daughter was four months into her freshman year of college when I realized she had never asked me for any money.

I'd paid for Sarina's housing, meal plan, and books, and put $100 on her account for laundry and incidentals at the beginning of the year. But that was it.

It didn't occur to me until another mom posted a joke about how, every time her kid called "just to say I love you," somewhere in the conversation, there would be a shakedown for money.

Lots of fellow parents joked around in the comments about how they were all getting squeezed by their college students, too.

Huh, I thought. My kid has never done that. How?

I asked my daughter about it

My daughter saved up from selling art in high school and lined up a job in dining services before she arrived at college, so I knew she'd have some spending money. But it never occurred to me that she'd think she had to pay for her own necessities.

So I asked her about it: "Hey, how come you don't ever ask me for money? How are you paying for school supplies and snacks and shampoo and stuff?"

"I'm OK!" she said. "I give myself a weekly budget of $100, and I don't really need more than that."

She didn't mind eating at the dining halls all the time and participated in clothing exchanges and thrift store shopping. She mentioned there were plenty of free activities on campus and a library full of books. When she didn't use her full weekly budget, she saved for concert tickets and gifts for friends.

I Venmoed her $50, just for kicks, and she sent back $20 of it. "That's too much!" she wrote.

I felt bad and wanted to fulfill my parental role to support my teenager

It had been a goal of mine as a single mom to provide for her through college so she'd never have that added stress.

That's when Sarina said something that helped me see things differently: "I like paying for my own stuff. It makes me feel like a responsible adult, you know?"

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Actually, I did know — and I'd forgotten that feeling. When I went to college, my parents didn't want me to get a job or join clubs in the first year because they wanted me to focus only on my studies. But once I proved my grades were solid, they backed off, and by my senior year, I was working two jobs. It did feel good to earn my own money.

I took a more trusting approach with my daughter; I didn't set rules about how she should spend her time, but I asked her to keep a light work schedule until she settled in and could see what her college workload would be like.

Sarina was able to piece together a schedule that worked out fine, though, combining work and play in proportions that made her happy. She handled time management like a boss and ended the year with straight As.

This year, she's working in the mailroom during the week and as a local chocolate tour guide on weekends.

Every now and then, I still send her money

I know full well she'll often return part of it or limit what I'm "allowed" to send. I was allowed to pay for her train ticket home, for instance, but not for the Lyft ride to the station.

When I tried to pay her $90 for shoveling our driveway over break (the rate my usual company would have charged), she wouldn't take more than $50. It's a dance, both of us wanting to feel good about our contributions. Both of us gather some of our self-worth by our ability to work for what we want and need in life.

There is joy in self-reliance, in that burgeoning confidence you get when you realize you're capable of making your way in the world.

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• German parents were shocked that I waited until third grade to let my son walk alone.

• Watching local kids commute independently pushed me to rethink my parenting fears.

• My son became more responsible almost immediately after gaining more independence.

The first time my 8-year-old walked to school alone, I watched him turn the corner and disappear. I kept picturing the busy street he had to cross — at just over four feet tall, would drivers see him?

But he made it to school that day, confirmed by a quick message from his smartwatch. And when he returned that afternoon on his own, he was glowing with pride.

We'd been thinking about when to let our oldest walk on his own for years. In first grade, it wasn't even an option. His school was a 3.5-mile bike ride or a 30-minute subway and bus trip. Then we moved within walking distance of campus, and suddenly, his question, "When can I walk by myself?" was harder to dodge.

We finally settled on third grade.

In Germany, kids walking alone is normal

By local standards, he should have been walking to school alone for at least a year. When I told a German friend he was walking to school alone, her response was: "Why so late?"

In our Berlin neighborhood, the streets fill with kids heading to school on their own each morning. In September, younger children walk with their parents. A few months in, many of those same kids are on their own. On the subway in the morning or mid-afternoon, I'll see someone barely four feet tall, backpack on, navigating their commute as confidently as an adult.

When I ask my German friends when they first let their kids go alone, the answers are consistently earlier than I expect. But German parents are also consciously training their children to be ready for this step, something we did too. Leading up to the big day, I'd had him lead the way over and over, making sure he wouldn't get lost. We also talked exhaustively about the crosswalk, and I quizzed him on how he knew it was safe to cross.

But as an American parent in Germany, not knowing exactly where my child was — even for a 15-minute walk — made me anxious.

What changed when he started walking alone

Within weeks of that first walk, his independence grew.

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Instead of having to remind him to pack his snack and get dressed, he gets himself out the door on time. I'll come into the kitchen and find him already eating granola and yogurt. He finishes, puts his dishes in the dishwasher, and then packs his own snack. He hands me homework or tests that require a parent's signature, and then says goodbye.

At school, he sometimes makes plans with friends and lets me know if he'll be home later than normal. Sometimes I get a quick message: "I'm going to the playground." I've been surprised by how much I love hearing that.

Wearing the smartwatch and keeping it in good condition are conditions for his ability to go places independently. Watching him care for it, and sometimes misplace it, gives me a glimpse of what life will be like when he gets a cellphone — which I hope is still years down the road.

It changed our mornings, too

There was a shift for us as parents, too.

His school starts at 8:30 a.m.; his siblings' preschool (in the same building) starts at 9 a.m. Getting three kids out the door in time for the earlier start used to be a mad scramble.

Now, I can move at a slower pace with the younger two. Our daily routine includes reading a book as they get their shoes and jackets on, something we didn't have time for before.

And it makes logistics for juggling three kids' schedules easier too. After school activities have become easier to manage, as I'm just thinking about how to get two kids home instead of three.

I still worry

He's been walking on his own now for a year and a half. I still think about that crosswalk. But he comes home on time, full of stories, and with a confidence he's earned by doing things on his own.

And I've come to see that he's more capable than I gave him credit for.

His independence doesn't go unnoticed by his younger siblings; my six-year-old longs for the day he can stay at home alone, or run an errand to the grocery store for us, or walk to school without his parents. We're not there yet.

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