250 days

So I have made lunch boxes for Alex for nearly 250days.
I have definitely gotten better with the help of gadgets and books.

Here is one.
This was in January.
Alex wanted me to make a spider web rice ball so I did.
Note the amount of veggies he eats.

Then another.

This is April.
I have started to cut corners and buy prepared food (veggie stir fry), pre-cut Nori (the birds on rice) and frozen mini burgers (with ketchup face).
Still, it looks sensible.

And then this.

This is May.
When I calculated how many more days of my life I would be committing myself to make these things.
another 2000 days at least.
I don't want my teenage son eating fries at the cafeteria, so 2000 days it is.
So the novelty totally wore off.
Everything except the strawberries and Nori are frozen now.
Did I hear someone talk about frozen strawberries?

A new puppy

I've always wanted a pet.
A cat or a dog, it didn't matter which.
But my mom was allergic to animals so no pets for me.
I thought of getting one when I got married but the it turned out I was allergic to felines and canines.
But these days I am thinking to hell with allergies.
What's the worst that could happen? Watery eyes? Itchy arms?
Alex begs for a pet all the time as well.
Guess what dear. You are allergic to cats and dogs too!
Still a puppy would be great for this household.
We already have a goldfish and I've managed to keep it alive for months.
I think I can do a puppy too.

One sunny Sunday I hear scratching behind the door.
I open and see - him.
Small with dark hair, all bright eyes, wet nose and excited heavy breathing.
He is bouncy and lively and surely would be wagging his tail 24/7 if he had one.

I give him water and decide to take him for a walk.
He runs in front of me, hiding in the bushes, smelling flowers and other stuff.
I come to a park bench, sit down and open a bag of biscuits.
I take one out and hold it in my hand wondering if he would eat one.
I decide no, but he's already next to me licking the biscuit.
Ewww, now I can't eat it!
Here, it's yours.

After a few biscuits he's off and finds someone's dog to play with.
They are rolling in the grass and having a grand time.
Some other dogs join in and it's visibly becoming dusty.

He comes back for water panting, drinking from the spout of the bottle, all dusty with grass in his hair.
I am thinking what a nightmare it will be to wash him down.
He's still energetic and goes back to the group of dogs.

They eventually disperse, with their owners pulling their dogs away and he decides to come back to me.
I walk home while he runs excitedly around me.

While I am fumbling for my keys in front of the door, he walks between my legs, rubbing his neck, head and shoulder against me.
Is he itchy or something?
Is he trying to transfer some bugs onto me?
Then he looks right at me with the cute innocent looking puppy eyes and wet nose and I decide to deal with the bugs.

We are inside and he runs to the bathroom leaving a trail of dirty footprints all over the carpet.
Now that annoys me.
Who's going to clean this mess up?

Ken showers him down and now he is all fresh and clean.
His puppy eyes and wet nose are still the same but he looks somewhat like a human being now.
"Okay, Alex. Lets clean your dirty footprints and let's wipe your nose cos' it's all sweaty".

I guess I don't need a puppy.
One human puppy is enough.

How to talk to kids so kids will listen and listen so kids will talk

After we kissed Alex goodnight, he came out to the living room and planted himself next to Ken on the sofa. Alex explained that he wanted to sleep in our bed. Ken and I kept telling him that he needed to sleep in his own bed because of A,B, and C.

Then Alex said, “No, I’ll go to my bed when mommy and daddy go to bed”

I don’t think it’s a good idea to wake you and move you to your bed.

“That’s not what I am saying”

So you are staying up until then? I don’t think that is a good idea.

“no mommy, you don’t understand”.

I do, sweetie. You want to sleep in our bed, right?

“No, I’ll go to my bed when mommy and daddy go to bed”

Well what are you going to do until then? Stay awake? You need to sleep dear. You need to grow!

Alex shouts “You don’t understand!” then ran past Ken and rushed to his room.

Ken was satisfied. “Look, he says he doesn’t want to do something, but he does. He went to his room and in his bed. He understands. He has very good comprehension”.

But as I heard Alex’s muffled cry, something told me that this wasn’t right.

So after pondering for a few minutes, I went to his room.

I sit next to Alex wondering what to say.

He talks first.

“mommy, you don’t understand what I’m saying”

I think I do. You are saying you want to stay up until mommy and daddy go to sleep.

“No”

Okay, then I think you are saying that you want to sleep in mommy and daddy bed until we go to sleep.

“No mommy, no. I’m saying I will go to sleep in my bed when mommy and daddy go to bed”

Okay, so you are going to sleep in your room when mommy and daddy go to bed, right?

“yes”

But what are you going to do until then?

“No, mommy, I am saying I will go to my own bed when you go to bed”

Yes, I understand that part. You are going to bed when I go to bed. But what are you doing until------ no, um, what is a better word --- before, that? Before mommy and daddy go to bed? We go to bed very late.

“Oh. Um… Okay, mommy and daddy work and I will read a book next to you”

So that was it. The culprit was the word “until”.

He didn’t know what it meant, so didn’t understand what I was saying.

He also didn’t have the concept of time before mommy and daddy went to sleep.

He was all worked up and fixated on the notion of going to bed only when his parents went to bed.

I explain to him that he needs to sleep so he can grow and that as grown-ups, mommy and daddy are pretty much done with growing.

“but mommy, mommy and daddy need to grow until 100”

Alex had the concept of growing and getting old mixed up as well.

I explain that when I say “grow”, I mean getting taller and stronger and smarter, while getting to be 100 means getting old.

“Oh…. Okay, I know what you are saying mommy. You’re a grown up so you only need to grow little, but I need to grow big because I’m still small”

That’s right.

“But how about 100?”

I hope we all get to be 100.

Alex is all bright eyes and smiling now.

“I want the living room to be next to my room and the bathroom next to my room to be where the living room is. And the kitchen can be next to the bathroom”

I see, so it’s like our apartment in New York, right? The living room close to your room.

“Yeah, and mommy’s room is my room and my room is mommy’s room. And Katie and Mark’s rooms are upstairs. You need to use the stairs. ”

Wow, so we have stairs in our apartment?

“Yeah, I’m mixing up the rooms and wish all the rooms were my way”

It sure is one big interesting apartment.

“Yeah, it’s big and fun. …Mommy, you can go now”

I am startled. I realize then and there that this situation is exactly like those explained in the book ”How to talk to kids so kids will listen and listen so kids will talk”. It took a good 10 minutes, but he completely recovered.

“Oh mommy, I have an idea. You can bring your computer for work to your bedroom next to my room. Daddy can stay and work in the living room”

Oh Alex, that’s a good idea. But unfortunately, I have lots of cables and things connected to the cables.

“That’s all right. You can bring all of it to your room so you can work there all the time.”

Well I will certainly consider it, okay?

“Okay, and daddy can help you”

Thanks for the advice. I love you. Good night.

“Good night”

So just like that.

I sat there, listened to my son, agreed with him, repeated what he said, and he came up with a suggestion all by himself. JUST AS THE BOOK PREDICTED. This is scary stuff.

I bought this book at the suggestion of some friends but it was left on the shelf untouched for 3 years. And then, I decided to read it simply because I ran out of things to read. The case studies all sounded too good to be

true. I was very skeptical thinking, yeah, well MY child will not react like that! But then when I unwittingly did what the book tells parents to do, simply because I was lost, a completely new situation opened up.

Now I have to remember to show my appreciation for Alex trying so hard to communicate with me, tomorrow morning.

Run run run!

People in NY generally don't run unless they just mugged someone or are at Macy's thanksgiving sale.

Here in Tokyo, it seems to be mandatory.
You never know who's going to come out of the corner running so you need to be vigilant.
These people are not joggers.
They run in their normal attire.
Age, gender, profession nor shoe style matter.

Most common reason for running seems to be "to catch the train".
This coming from a country where trains run in 3 minutes interval ON TIME.

When Alex and I first started commuting to preschool, he kept asking "why are they running?"
It was such a different sight compared to where he was from.
Now he seems to enjoy the show and counts how many are running (too many!).
He has been knocked over a few times because he got too close to a running Tokyonite.

Thought to snap some pictures of them running, but they are too fast!

Japanese Potty

"mommy, there are no potties!"
"Yes there is, this is a toilet. See the blue man and pink woman on that board? That means there are potties here"
"I don't like pink woman room. I want to go to blue"
"Well daddy's not here today so you are in here with me"
"but mommy, pink doesn't have my potty!"
So I go into the offending stall and find this.  

I go in the next stall and find the same thing.
This is Tokyo, one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world, at a fairly upscale department store to boot.
Why am I facing this?

Japanese potties are basically a hole in the floor with half a dome to cover 1/6 of the oval hole.
I refuse to understand how to use it and instruct Alex to do so as well.
I completely forgot about their existence until Alex came running out of the stall.
"mommy, can I go to blue man room?"
He's 4.
Should I send him off to a public toilet on his own?
The only "western style" stall is out of order.
He is near tears with the hole potty.

Come to think of it he is becoming pretty rigid about trying out new things.
He didn't want to try out the new mango orange muffin that cost me $5 this morning.
Maybe this is a good opportunity to instill the idea of overcoming challenges.
So I drag him in the stall, and have him squat over the hole.
I am not sure if we are even facing the right way, but he aims inside the dome, assuming it's a splash guard.

MISSed!
He pees ON the dome.
The liquid trickles down the dome onto the floor running towards his shoes.
I lift Alex to avoid any contact but Alex was not done yet so the pee was now showering the wall.
Ooops.
Disaster in progress.

The stall is so small that there is no other choice but to put Alex down in the puddle and let him finish his thing.
He understands the situation and now he is peeing and crying at the same time.
"I want to go to blue room!!"

This toilet has been the de facto standard for many years.
At the same time the Japanese have been known for their longevity.
One needs to squat to do her job in this toilet but I cannot imagine an 80 year old being able to do that.
There is a janitor's closet within the ladies room so I clean Alex's shoe there.
He's still sobbing at the ordeal and not happy about the fact that he has to wear the shoe I hosed down.
Mercifully there are no people waiting to use the toilets so I throw a bucket of water in the stall we trashed to wash things down.
The rest has to be dealt by the janitor.

During all of this, not a single person came in.
It's 1:30pm, when the toilets are usually crowded with people who finished lunch at one of the restaurants.
Alex and I leave the Restaurant floor to go down to the Luxury Brand floor.
There is a long line of people coming out of a corridor.
It leads to the ladies room.
We cut the line and go in, pretending to just wash our hands, and find out that all the stalls have regular toilet bowls.
Aha! So even Japanese, young and old like the "western style" toilets.

An anniversary we fail to notice

There was an article about anniversaries people celebrate.

It asked which anniversary the readers most look forward to.
To me, I guess it's my kid's birthday.

And so my answer was the same as a million other readers.

But that wasn't the point of the article.
The author pointed out that our firstborn's birthday is not just the kid's birthday but also the day "parents" were born. Before that we were just husbands and wives (majority of Japan is still a hetrosexual partnership). Hence the birthdays of Mommy and Daddy.
We have a right to celebrate for ourselves too! Who knew?
Makes sense.

But who's going to get me presents?

creep

I don't know the appropriate translation for the word "creep".
So after much contemplation, I just say "creep" in English.
I'm talking in Japanese pretty well and suddenly I turn into English.
The group of women I was talking to blink.
And then they lose interest as if it was a boring story after all.

The problem with Japanese people is that they assume you are Japanese if you look East Asian.
There are no "Asian-Americans" in their world.
If you look Asian, you are expected to speak Japanese flawlessly and understand it perfectly well. You are expected to follow the culture of bowing, saying "sorry" all the time, running to the trains, etc, mindlessly.
Especially with the "patriotic fad" going on, there is this strange sense of superiority among people and a friend told me she felt she was treated like a second-rate citizen when people found out she couldn't speak the language.

So I am having trouble with the word "creep".
Alex and I were sitting on a train and out of nowhere comes this 20-something, sitting right next to Alex. I didn't notice him until he interrupted our conversation. I thought a pretty woman was sitting there. Where did she go?
"He's very cute. How old is he?"
I'm dumbstruck. This is Japan, the land of harmless looking psychos with knives.
"I'm Four!" Alex is so happy that he was finally asked something that he could answer in Japanese.
"You speak very good Japanese. Where are you from?" Damn it! Why is he carrying on a conversation? I just stare. He asks again, this time loudly.
I still stare.
"Are you from Thailand?"
I finally cave and say "New York".
"Oh, that must be far away. How long is it by plane?"
Why is he asking this? Creep. His eyes scream "pedophile".
I am thinking what to do. I don't want to move suddenly and have him running after us with a knife. It's still a while until the next station.
And then I freeze.

He takes Alex's right hand and strokes it, repeatedly.
I mentally calculate how long it takes me to take a pen out of my bag and stab his hand.
Can I get away with it?
Then I hear the announcement for the next station. I have never been grateful for this boring announcement in my life.
I grab Alex's right arm and say "okay, we are getting off".
"Why? this isn't our station yet". Why does Alex have to argue with me right now out of all the time in the world?
"I don't like strangers touching you".

The creep then stands up and walks away.
He go sits next to a woman with a stroller.
Wow, he is a pedophile looking for prey.
We get off the train.

In NYC even 10 year olds have chaperons take them to and from school.
But in Japan, once you are in elementary school, kids are suppose to commute by themselves. A lot of schools think that this is what constitutes children's "independence".
I see 6, 7 , 8 year olds, light as a feather, brave the commuter train every morning. These kids are small, most of them wearing uniforms that identify their schools (and location, obviously) and sometimes even have their nametags hanging out.

I am explaining all of this to a group of Japanese women as they pass out tea and I get stuck at the word "creep".
I am still angry and worked up about it and I am stressing that there is no way in hell I am going to let Alex go to school by himself.
"That creep. Creep, creep!!!".

"Relax, here it is".
What is here? What is she talking about?
"Your cream. Creap. Well this is real cream, not cheap creap that's powdered.
This is what you want in your tea, right?"

I'll be damned.

Japanese Packed lunch

Happy New Year everyone.

Alex started school last week and I was so glad because he was driving me bonkers by asking me when he could go back to school, 20 times a day (nearly every 30 minutes), for 3 weeks.

It has been 3 months since I have officially started packing lunch for Alex.
It was great at first.
Lots of frozen bite size lunch food in Tokyo in the freezer section; all you have to do is nuke 'em and pack 'em. They even have frozen blanched spinach nicely tucked in a 1 x 1 plastic nukable container.

All you have to do is take the package out of the freezer, cut one container off (about 8 containers connected loosely in 1 package), add some salt or soy sauce and throw it in the microwave.

They sell cute lunch boxes too (Alex has "Thomas" and "Cars", of course) and all I have to do is figure out how to configure these various containers with various prepared food in them in the box so they fit, and throw in a rice ball or two (easier to make than sandwiches, actually).
Alex was just so excited getting food in a box that he was content with it for 2 months.

Then he started comparing his lunch to his classmates'.
He noticed that others were far more elaborate than his:

• He noticed that sausages weren't merely boiled, they were somehow morphed into octopuses or flowers.
• Rice balls weren't just rice flavored with a sprinkle of salt carelessly squashed together in the box. They were Elmos, cookie monsters, soccer balls and bunnies.
• There were smiling eggs and Pokemon cheese.
• Koala meatballs and star sandwiches.

Packing lunch is a competitive sports here.

By the second year of packing, most moms (and I stress moms here, since in this society, these things HAVE to be made by moms, no one else) make it into an art form and the respective children open their lunch boxes proudly in the hopes of attaining the highly coveted "best lunch box owner" status.

You see the idea is, the better the lunch box content, the more that child is cherished and loved by his/her mom.
Under this guideline, Alex was literally an orphan.

And so, to keep within the spirit of his classmates and their ever so creative moms, Alex started to demand "spider webs", "froggies", "backyardigans" on his lunch and I started to oblige.

I don't want him to grow up and think 20 years later that he has some obscure issues because I didn't pack him good looking lunch.

I have spent well over $30 investing in silly lunch making gadgets like Nori punchers (punches a face into a nori), animal rice shapers (shapes the riceballs into elephants, fish and bears), swordfish toothpick (a tiny blue plastic swordfish in which it's "sword" part acts as a toothpick - I line up edamame on this; alex thinks it's hilarious), Ariel partitions (wax paper partitions with Ariel printed on it - he's in love with her right now), Winnie the Pooh Nori (Nori pre-cut into Pooh) etc and these stuff are taking up an entire cupboard.

Think I'm losing my mind?
This is what I am up against.

and this

and this

and these are just the tip of the iceberg.

I thought I didn't have to deal with this crap if I had Alex in an American school.
Apparently, blond kids at his school get a pass even if their lunch is just a jelly sandwich and a banana (low status) that comes directly out of a bag (even lower status).

However, there are different expectations for kids with Asian moms and an American style laissez-faire packed lunch may ostracize the child from classroom society.

"Mommy, I was the only one who didn't have a face for lunch (meaning a face somehow designed on a rice ball or sandwich or boiled egg or whatever). Everybody was talking about their faces and playing with them!! I didn't have a face....nobody played with me"

I am having such a hard time taking this seriously.

One of our neighbors, who has 3 school aged kids besides her preschooler told me she wakes up at 5am every weekday to pack lunch. She also packs snacks, makes breakfast, checks the kids' belongings and drives the kids to 2 different schools before having to comeback home.
However if she didn't have to pack lunch, she could get away with waking up at 6:30.
She's been doing this for 12 years. She has an MBA from an Ivy League. You'd think she'd have all the logistics figure out by now to maximize efficiency and shorten labor time. Nope, even she - who did operational management - cannot escape the mundane labor intensive work of packing a Japanese lunch.

I can't live like this!