Christmas: The Aftermath

Forgive the silence, like just about everyone else, the last few days were a hectic mess of getting things done for Christmas. What you may ask? The usual, wrapping presents, taking the boys out to look at Christmas lights in order to give Beloved some wrapping time of her own, and of course baking.

Yup, baking.

It's become a tradition for me to spend a good two or three days in the kitchen baking and cooking for Christmas various treats and dishes (Thankfully for my sanity, the Emperor of Japan himself helps in this. December 23rd is the emperor's birthday and thus a holiday that is usually perfectly placed in order to let me get the bulk of the baking done). The usual range is eggnog (made from eggs, no mix here), gingerbread men, sugar cookie cutouts, snowball cookies, and cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning with a New York style cheesecake for our Christmas cake on Christmas eve. This year I added fudge and clam chowder to the mix as well, though I got to move the cheesecake till after Christmas.



Now, oddly enough, excepting the cinnamon rolls and clam chowder, none of the above figures in how I would celebrate Christmas back home in the States. I would bring home Cinabons for Christmas morning though and in my family, Mom's clam chowder in a sourdough breadbowl is the dinner for Christmas Eve, but in terms of cookie production, it just never happened. Let me hasten to state this isn't due to my mother being a bad cook (And no, I am not just stating that because she reads this blog some times), but more of a problem of single mother and way too much to do around Christmas to spend the day making cookies. That said, I had a number of relatives and friends who do/did the whole Christmas treat overload every Christmas and had no qualms about sharing. We didn't bake them, but we sure did eat them.

Which is more or less why I now spend a two days producing massive amounts of cookies. I simply missed the tastes of home during Christmastime and wanted to replicate them as much as possible. Once Beloved tasted the buggers, she got hooked. Since she likes to share, we now have a horde of family/friends/co-workers (I take a plate into my school) who also have started to look forward to Christmas baking.

But it has become more than being a bit homesick for the holidays, it's become making Christmas traditions for Makoto and Hikaru. As I previously mentioned, Christmas in Japan is not Christmas in the US. I'm sure many parents feel the tug every year of wanting to re-create their childhood Christmases for their own children, to re-capture the magic, to make memories, to... have that family Christmas. I am no different in this, but I am faced with a problem of being in Japan. My family is half way around the globe, the culture is very different, we lack any number of things that I took for granted back at home, but I still want to make Christmas happen for the boys in at least a semi-American sense.

Don't let squirrels happen to YOUR Christmas!

The semi bit is important I think. It would be impossible to recreate Christmas in America over here in Japan and to try... Well, I have no wish to host a real life version of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (The best warning there ever was about going overboard on getting the 'perfect' Christmas). As with many things, I've had to pick and choose want I want to pass on to my sons for them to remember. Baking works, it really does. Christmas was never a massive affair at my house growing up. That is to say, while we enjoyed it and celebrated it, it didn't usually involve massed relatives or going overboard on decorations, etc.

The only relative who was usually involved was my grandmother on my mother's side who lived 45 minutes away, meaning my sister and I would have to wait until she woke up and came to our house before opening presents, a horrible torture for children and one that felt like it lasted somewhere between a lifetime and a day or eternity.

But we did have our traditions from stocking raids to the above mentioned Cinabons and thus why I bake so much. After just 5 Christmases, Makoto has taken it as Gospel that this is how things happen. We have fun baking together, cutting out cookies, and he has fun with the smells of Christmas (Hikaru it should be noted isn't all that interested in baking, he's got the eating thing down though). We have other traditions from, again, looking at Christmas lights in a nearby park (This year, thankfully, there was a lack of Christmas lights shaped to look like bugs) to watching certain Christmas films from the US (A Charlie Brown Christmas for example), to the all important reading of "A Visit from St. Nicholas" before bed on Christmas Eve before setting out the eggnog and cookies for Santa.

According to Beloved's friends, this looks like a storybook

It's not my family's Christmas in the United States, it's nothing like the Christmas I grew up with, but it has become Christmas in Japan and so far it seems to be working in terms of making memories. Makoto and Hikaru both were thrilled with their gifts and the food (Oh boy was Hikaru thrilled with the food, he has been non-stop demanding cookies for days), and Beloved has been enjoying herself by taunting her friends on Facebook where she posts pictures of what looks like a storybook Christmas to her Japanese friends and casually mentioning that she has to do none of it, all the heavy lifting is provided by her husband. It is Christmas in Japan, but not a Japanese Christmas. It isn't an American Christmas either, but it is our Christmas and worth all the extra hassle.

But as for now, the gifts have been unwrapped, our tree is now dark, and Christmas goes back to sleep till next year. After this small taste of America, we're getting ready for an extra-large helping of Japanese, because New Year's is upon us and if I was busy as all heck for Christmas, Beloved has her turn at bat as we head towards Oshogatsu.

Merry Christmas!

This is how you know Christmas was well spent, two happy kids and a BIG mess

The War On Christmas

Yes, there is one.

Oh, I don't mean the silliness the Bill O'Reilly goes off on every year (To be honest, given the mangling that I hear in Japan of "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" I don't care which one I hear just as long as it's actually pronounced right. If I did, I'd probably grab that person and kiss them full on the lips regardless of age, sex, or status. We're talking tongue may be employed here), no I mean a war on, or about, Christmas. For me it's a two front war.

The first front is familiar to anyone with young children, the annual battle in the toy store. As previously mentioned, Christmas in Japan is more for those with young children and young couples. This means that, for the most part, you don't have the insanity that is normal in malls across America during the Christmas shopping season as most people in Japan are not really going bananas buying gifts.

Except parents of course. Japanese children have picked up on this whole Santa thing and by God they expect him in. Those who have out-grown Santa aren't about to take any excuses for lack of presents either. This leads to the familiar battle in the toy store to get THE gift that has been demanded by your beloved children. And yes, it is a war.

You can tell the veterans, the fathers (It's always the fathers. Mothers are usually busy tending to the kids and making dinner so when I do my Christmas shopping for the boys, Toys R Us is filled with a crowd of guys, all of us sharing three things: 1. From our dress we obviously just got off of work. 2. We've been prodded by our beloved partners to go get that whatever instead of heading home to relax. 3. We want to get our present and get out of there as quickly as possible) who have been through this before. We are battle scarred, in our eyes you can see the hard stare of a campaigner who will let nothing and nobody stand between him and the toy that will make his child(ren)s life complete this Christmas. There's an economy of movement, the hard earned knowledge of knowing where this toy is located in Toys R Us, how to get it and get out with the minimum fuss and God help the fool who gets in their way.

You can also tell the new parents, the ones whom this will be their first battle of the toys, they are the ones who have a worried expression on their faces, the ones who waffle in front of the display, hesitating on which toy is the best one for their child. They read all the labels, agonizing over their choices. They also usually have track-marks down their back from where they were run over by a veteran.

This year was no exception, for me. I knew what I wanted, having the foresight to get Makoto to 'draft' his letter to Santa, which I then stole (I mean the draft, Makoto's actual letter got mailed off) which meant I had a pretty nice list to go off of in terms of toys that they wanted and the ones that they actually asked Santa for (So Santa can come through). I knew where those toys where, how to get to them, and was in and out in less than 30 minutes with a shopping cart full of gifts and stocking stuffers.

The only thing that threw me was Beloved's request at the last minute that I get a pair of boots for Hikaru since I had to find the right size and style.

The second front on the War on Christmas is the yearly battle to get my wife to tell me what she wants for Christmas.

And yes, this IS a battle. Every. Single. Year. Every year I ask to get some ideas and every year it's "I don't know, give me more time." and thus I wait and watch as the calendar advances. I beg, I plead, I threaten to unleash her sons with 2,000 yen (About $20) in a store and let them buy her gift (Hope she likes GoBusters!), I threaten to go to Don Quixote (A Japanese version of Spencer's Gifts) and get her a "Happy Evening" gift pack (I'm sure you can fill in just what might be in that yourself). I withhold Christmas cookies and still I get nothing.

Or coffee. Every year, driven to distraction, she finally announces she just wants coffee beans.

Now the problem with this is that a. Coffee is hardly a present, it's something you get at the grocery store. Also, since she has a mother and sister-in-law who also are demanding gift ideas for her, I tell them coffee. We don't need 10 pounds of it, we don't drink THAT much coffee! So around and around  we go with me demanding and Beloved stating coffee till finally she'll come up with something.

These somethings are almost always expensive. This year it was a blu-ray recorder, not a bad idea, except that we need one that is region free for DVDs. They are around $500. No, not in the budget. So how about an electric sweeper? At $300? No. Besides, I'd rather save the money and get a Roomba. So how about a wall heater?

A wall heater you say, as I did?

Yes, she wants a wall heater. Why? To make sure that the laundry room doesn't freeze. Of course, we already have one and it's not for her, it's for the house. so, no.

Finally, three days before Christmas, she finally comes up with an idea. I need to take her to the shoe store to get some half boots. Ah, thinks I, not too bad... Until she zeros in on a pair that, yes are beautiful, yes, look good on her, yes, are what she wants, but are also a bit pricey.

But this is what she wants, this or coffee.

I might have won the battle of the toy store but  think I lost the war.

Happiness is a Warm Gun?

I woke up this morning to the news about Connecticut.

My God, 20 children. 20 children, some of them around Makoto's age. 20. Children. And 6 adults who, as teachers, would be colleagues of mine. When is enough, enough?

Already spinning around the Internet is the usual "It wasn't the guns! Guns don't kill people, people kill people! If only everyone had a gun, this wouldn't have happened (Ignoring that there's a gun for just about every man, woman, and child in the US not to mention guns at school is a terrifying idea from a teacher's standpoint)!"

I don't think it was the guns, it's the culture. There are societies that are armed and do not have this problem. We are an armed society, but no, we are not particularly polite (Something that was brought home to me when I went back home). Societies with strict gun control also don't have this problem. The US however...

We have a culture that loves the gun. It's a nation that has somehow gotten to the point where we can not longer do without, we bind ourselves to it, to having them, judge our worth, build our heroes, and elect our leaders based on their views of firearms. It's... the wild west taken to extreme. We have become addicted to the gun, and like all addicts, we cannot and will not admit that we have a problem, instead we lash out at any attempt to remove that to which we are addicted. We're the drunk who after beating his wife cries that it wasn't the booze's fault, that he'll change, just don't take it away from him!

We're the one who swears that we are fully in control and who gets belligerent when any attempt to limit is spoken of.

And more children die. When will it be enough? When will we say that this isn't working, that more guns won't be the answer, that taking them away wouldn't stop it either? We need to change ourselves.

I know on my blog I rag a bit on Japan, I love it here, but from a humor standpoint, it's something to hold up, see what's odd? What's different?

In Japan, it is almost impossible to own a gun. Japan as a nation has less gun deaths a year than my hometown. There are those who would claim that it was the lack of mental health care that brought today's tragedy  but Japan is far worse than the US when it comes to mental health, and yet there are no school shootings. There are those who would state that a nation where you don't have the right to bear arms is close to tyranny, what is to protect you from the government after all? Perhaps. I don't have the right to own a gun over here, but then again I don't worry when I leave for the day that my sons might be shot. At the end of the day, I might not be able to march on Tokyo with a gun in my hand to force the government to back down, but I can hug my sons close to me tonight, something that 20 families in Connecticut will not be able to do again.

There's that pithy quote from Franklin about security and liberty, which might also be true, but I think we as a nation need to decide just what kind of price we're willing to pay, and pay, and pay for our 'liberty'.

I don't know the answers, except that the first thing to say is enough, this must change!

One of the hardest things I have done as a father was to have to explain to Makoto, who was watching the news tonight that a bad man went into a school and killed 20 children like him and 6 teachers. It was hard to look him in the eyes and tell him that Daddy just doesn't know why it happened, but that people are sad because it has happened. Makoto started to cry because of the kids and the teachers who were killed, and because he was scared.

At least then I had an answer for him, that Mommy and Daddy wouldn't let this happen to him, we have chosen to stay in Japan.

When is enough, enough? How many more times must we see this? How many more times will I have to comfort my sons and assure them that they won't be shot? We need help, not more guns.

Happiness is holding your family tight, not a warm gun.

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Parents

"Anything that can go wrong will go wrong". -Murphy's Law.

Murphy wasn't an optimist, he was a parent! If fatherhood has taught me one thing, it is that plans will never, ever survive engagement with your children. It simply will not happen and it is a fool of a father who things for a moment that it will.

Have I mentioned that I am a fool?

Now admittedly, many times the plan changes are not always the fault of said children, or at least not deliberately done so, but I'm willing to bet you buttons to dollars that at the end of the disaster, you'll find a kid at the bottom grinning up at you while you tear your hair out in frustration.

Take, just for example mark you, my previous weekend.

The Plan: Lacking wood and a snow-storm a coming, we would get up early and go get 200 bundles (Wood, for reasons I'm not too sure of, is sold in the bundle in Japan instead of cords. A bundle is, supposedly, about 3 to 5 cut pieces of wood that adds to the enjoyment of burning during the winter as now you have sharp wires to cut and dispose of before they perforate things you do not wish to be perforated, such as small boys). We would borrow a small pick-up for the occasion and I would tarp the back of our mini-van. The idea would be that we would get the wood at 8:30 am, and hopefully make only two trips and be done with getting it to the house by 10ish.

The reality: Hikaru got sick the night before. Beloved reacted by flat out laying down the law that she would not allow him out of the house on a cold morning (The snow being an overachiever got an early start) and thus I would have to shift all that wood by myself in the little truck. Even worse, the wood was not bundled as advertised, but instead came in a cubic meter, loose. So instead of slinging, I'd have to stack and take four trips while doing so.

Oh, and since it was snowing, I couldn't just dump the wood, I'd have to stack it as soon as I got it home. Which did kind of work as out I discovered that we had far more wood than we had storage meaning I was going to have to build a temporary storage area. In the middle of it all, I had to deal with Makoto and Hikaru fighting as well as Hikaru pitching a fit and a half because Makoto was allowed to ride along for one trip. Final finish time 2:30pm.

The Plan: After finishing getting the wood in and calling back Stateside, we'd head out to DoCoMo to finally change our address, a home store for some shopping, and then to the supermarket for the weekly shopping.

The Reality: After finally getting the damn wood in, both boys had gone to sleep. Beloved of course wouldn't wake them as both of them are unholy terrors when they don't wake on their own (And in Makoto's case, even when he does). This meant we left the house, finally around 5pm and the shopping now included needing to get freaking building supplies for construction of that temporary wood storage. This also meant that we wouldn't be having a home cooked dinner, but would have to stop by Hotto Motto, a Japanese fast food joint that does bento boxes. 

And this caused Beloved to cry. Why you may ask? The reason is familiar to any woman who spends hours each day working in the kitchen to make her family delicious and healthy foods just to hear her darlings state about how much they love McDonald's. Makoto and Hikaru's take: "Hotto Motto! YAY!" Beloved: "I cook for them everyday!"

Add in that DoCoMo had an hour wait and the longer shopping time, we didn't get home to dinner till 7:40 and dinner itself wasn't finished until well after 8.

The Plan: Given that the next day we would be at a luncheon where I was supposed to make chili, after returning from the store mid-afternoon, I would prep a bit and then spend the rest of the afternoon, early evening boning up on kanji. Then early to bed.

The Reality: After getting home so damn late, we ended up with a whirlwind of activity of attempting to get medication down Hikaru, both boys fed, cleaned, bathed, and shoved into bed. We finally manged to do so by 9:15, just in time for me to go and start getting ready for the chili by browning 5lbs of meat, soaking the beans, and then getting to kanji (Many of which I failed just because of being so tired). Finally got to bed around 11pm.

The Plan: Wake up around 7ish, enjoy a lazy breakfast and prep the chili. Go to the community center around 9 or so and enjoy cooking, lunch, and helping clean up. Home hopefully around 3pm at which case I would get some badly needed cleaning done, do my kanji, and get to bed early.

The Reality: Get up at 5am, go out into the snow to build temporary wood storage, move food until about 8:15, madly toss together chili and then go out to move more wood while watching two little boys enjoy themselves in the nice, warm, living room while they grin at their father struggling in the cold. Get to the lunch about 2 hours late with the chili and after cooking time, get told wife has been drafted as staff so I would have to watch and feed both children... as well as play Santa when the time comes. Help with the cleanup and watch in horror as an impromptu meeting happens afterwards that drags on to well after 3:30, leaving me again with watching both kids. Get told by Beloved that she would treat me to Starbucks by way of thanks, but realize that there simply was no time for this. Finally get back home at 4:30...

To find that Hikaru was dead to the world, thus no vacuuming for me. But I would need to go out in the snow to get more stakes for the tarp on the temporary wood storage.

Oh, and Beloved was told that she needed to make pickles today, so would I please go to the store and get pickling stuff... And oh, please watch the kids after getting the pickling stuff... oh, and please go back out into the cold as we got way too many veggies for the container so we need a bigger one... and watch the kids some more, brush their teeth, get them ready for bath, dry them off, read a book, and get them into the futon.

Finally get to the goddamn kanji (Which again I missed many) and to bed at 10:00. 

And by the way, wake up call for next morning would be my normal 5 am... and I would wake up to snow.

Now some might note that many of the problems here were not caused by the kids themselves. They didn't set the wood up, or the meeting, or planned the wood storage. They certainly didn't make Beloved make pickles like crazy on Sunday night, and I have to admit, this is true. But I look at it akin to the small pebbles that start an avalanche  It was all down to Hikaru's getting sick and both boys sleeping so much. Those were the monkey wrenches in my plans that caused everything else to go haywire as causality just ripples outwards making each moment a disaster in terms of getting things done at a nice time and without drama.

Like I said, Murphy was a parent, he knew exactly what happens when you attempt to plan around kids.

Toys!

Yes, toys.

I'm not exactly too sure as to where this particular Christmas tradition came from, but every year, right around Christmas time, Makoto fails to pick up his toys.

And yes, this is a problem. As I have related before, I am well aware as to just how bad a room can get when kids don't pick up and so while I might be the world's largest hypocrite in calling for my house to be at least somewhat clean, I do want it clean. In calling for this however, I must face down two very stubborn boys. Hikaru has yet to master this concept of cleaning. In Hikaru's world, cleaning means ignoring Mommy and Daddy until he absolutely cannot, and THEN finally start cleaning... I.e. pick up a single toy, put it into the bin, and then rather cheerfully announce "All done!"

Makoto's habit is more along the lines of saying that, yes, he will clean up and as long as someone is watching him, he will. The key word is watching. If you're not watching, he'll stop cleaning and start playing. And when you do catch him not cleaning, he'll go over and take the toy Hikaru is playing with causing Hikaru to cry and a fight to start.

And then Makoto comes running to say Hikaru won't help and instead hit him.

Thus cleaning becomes something that should take, oh 15 minutes, maybe but instead lasts for well over an hour, during which whatever else I might want to get done, doesn't.

And as always, it ends up with me blowing my stack a bit until the boys get the idea that, no, Daddy is not a happy camper and now is the time to actually start to clean in earnest.

Cleaning, by the way, means grab toys and randomly shove them on the shelves so that the mess is just transferred. Really, I don't want to be an ogre about this, and my own cleaning leaves a lot to be desired (My file system is called "Put it somewhere on the desk, it'll keep"), but it's just a matter of not wanting to get back to what I grew up with. It was my own fault, yes, but that doesn't mean I want to go back to it either.

But getting back to Christmas, eventually though events come to a head where it becomes obvious that the boys simply have way too many toys. Part of this is just growth, the way things are now, Hikaru's toy bin is downstairs and supposed to be full of baby toys. Makoto's is upstairs and full of his toys. The reality is that Hikaru is no longer a baby and spends most of his time playing with Makoto's toys so the toys migrate around the house and of course the general child notion of 'Can't find toy you want? DUMP THEM ALL!' holds well and true for both boys, which just causes even more in terms of toy migration.

Another part of the problem is simply that they keep getting more toys, though that is not any doing of ours. Sure, they get toys for their birthday and Christmas, sometimes they get toys from relatives and once in a great while, just because, but a great deal of them are, well, garbage. Makoto has taken after his aunt, he loves art work so he gathers toy kits. Said kits are usually newspaper ads that he twists, draws, cuts, and tapes into... odd contraptions that require a great deal of imagination in order to see what he says they are. Not a bad thing of course, all children should be encouraged to be creative, but it does leave one heck of a mess in terms of scraps pf paper that liter the house.

Hikaru, being two, isn't into crafting yet, but he's an ace at destruction, especially Makoto's paper toys, which he more or less shreds once Makoto is done with This of course also adds to the mess of paper scraps littering the house.

And it presents a quandary, Makoto made it, thus it's kid art, thus turns parents all gooey and gives a guy one hell of a guilt trip to throw away, but it is a mess.

And Christmas is coming.

More toys. That they can't clean up.

In the middle of this mess cycle is what usually happens, I get annoyed enough that I start taking toys, putting them in boxes or up so that they can't play with them (Before I get called cruel, I take only those still on the floor, they still have heaps of toys and even worse, they never really seem to notice that they are gone). Currently we have three boxes full of toys in the attic that have been thus taken, some haven't been played with for years. For some reason however, Makoto always seems to get to this point right before Christmas and I have yet to figure out if this is some kind of sneaky way of getting his room cleaned out for more toys from Santa or what.

But all of it does beg questions. Some of the toys were indeed gifts, thus I feel hesitant to toss. Some of them are baby toys, which again I feel hesitant to toss right now (You never know if you're gonna need them again, right?). Some where just damned expensive, which also means I'd hate to throw my money away as well. But in the end, I'm having nightmare visions of my attic stuffed full of toys that haven't seen the light of day for over a decade by the time Makoto and Hikaru leave home just trying to keep my house clean!

So, toys... What the hell do I do with them?! 

It would help if I had a place to take them, but lack of second hand stores and both Makoto and Hikaru being in nursery school limits that idea. I can just imagine the problems of taking a toy away, just so that they can play with it at school. Not to mention the fun the teachers would have trying to break up fights between the boys who know the toy is theirs and other students. I'm starting to think that maybe what I should do is write Santa for pick-up service.

Studying With Children

Don't.

As noted before, I'm currently attempting to learn how to read Japanese, or rather, read one of the four writing systems used by the Japanese. The general idea is for me to complete about one lesson per day, say about 20 to 40 kanji or so. So far, weekdays have been generally pretty good. While I'm busy at school, I usually have some downtime that allows me to chew through most of them, although sometimes they follow me home.

Weekends however... Oh boy. Try 5 minute interruptions from the boys, usually alternating. The first one will almost always be Hikaru who comes tearing into my office in tears. Why, you may ask, is my youngest in tears? Because big brother did something, usually attempt to take a toy. So, comfort toddler, yell at 5 year-old, kick both out of office, go back to kanji.

5 minutes later and Makoto is coming through the door, this time to complain that Hikaru won't do what he, Makoto, told him to do and since last time I yelled at him for hitting Hikaru, he wants me to get the toy this time. Tell Makoto he needs to share, tell Hikaru to share with Makoto, kick both out of office, go back to kanji.

Again Hikaru shows up, this time because Makoto, trying to color, kicked him out of the room so he decides to bring the toy that makes noise into Daddy's office to play. Physically remove toddler from office, yell at small boy to let his brother play in the room, go back to office, close the door, go back to kanji.

Makoto opens the door to tell me Hikaru pushed him and now he hit his arm on something. Comfort 5-year-old, yell at two-year-old, kick both out of office, go back to kanji... what kanji was I on again? I don't know! Too bad it's not annoyance, because I'm sure I'd remember that!

Makoto and Hikaru this time demanding things to color. Growl at my beloved children, print out something, threaten to ship them both to Timbuktu in a cheese crate, go back to kanji.

Finally towards evening, having gotten through half of what I needed to do, Beloved calls me downstairs. It seems that Makoto is falling asleep so she wants me to play with him so he doesn't nap right before dinner (Once Makoto is asleep, it's impossible to wake him up without having a temper tantrum). "But," says she, "Only if you're done with your kanji, but I'd really like it if you could."

*sigh* "Of course."

"Are you done?" says Beloved.

"No"

"But, you had so much time!"

Resolved, remove the baby-gate from Beloved's hidy hole where she retreats to get away from her children and install it in my office, making sure to ducktape the latch so that Makoto can't open it.

Post Election 2012

The great thing about being in Japan is that even though I am from a swing state (Nevada), I get to miss out on most of the insanity. When I wanted to partake I had to go online to get it and when I was done with it, I could disconnect and go back to Japan where, while the election was important, is a bit more concerned about the silly people in Tokyo than the silly people in Washington DC.

Still, as a father of two tiny Americans, I did want to talk to my sons a bit about the election and it was very important for me to start to impress upon them that they must vote when they are of age. While, technically, they will have two short years in which to vote in two different countries (The voting age in Japan is 20), I want them to be thinking of voting as something that isn't just a right, it's a duty.

It's also an obligation in my family. See, my family believes that political arguments makes for great dinner theater and every four years sees at least a few people shouting across the dinner table at Thanksgiving about the previous election. Actually, we shout across the table regardless of when the election was. Then we get into the ice cube and whipped cream war, but that's another story.

Still, there is one cardinal rule that my family follows, which is thus: if you are of age to vote, and you didn't, you are not allowed to argue or complain about politics as you didn't use your chance to change things.

It's this, plus a sense of duty, that was impressed upon me as a child. I remember going to the polls a few times with my mother to watch her vote so that my sister and I could see that there was nothing to it. When I turned 18, my mother drove me down to the city clerk to register and took me to the polling place that year so I could cast my first vote. I've voted in ever general election since, even after coming to Japan.

So it was with that in mind that I showed my sons my absentee ballot and told them what I was doing. Hikaru of course wasn't too impressed once he found out that Daddy wasn't going to let him color on it in crayon. Makoto however was a bit more interested.

Said he, "You need to pick Obama, Daddy!"

Me: "And why is that?"

Makoto: "Um.... you know... he's from America and you're from America so..."

Me: "Romney's from America too, Sweetheart."

Makoto: "Oh." Much thought. "Um, who likes Go-Busters! more?"

Which is probably not a bad basis for deciding on whom to vote for, all thing considered.

As for the Japan side, we haven't had a general election yet, but one should be coming up soon. The last time however Beloved took Makoto to the polls with her to see her vote and he got the prize that all children love on Election Day, the I Voted sticker.

In Japanese of course.

I'm assuming that she will take at least one of them with her when she goes again. Hopefully though she'll remember to get Hikaru to leave the crayons at home. I doubt that the Japanese government accepts ballots in crayons any more than the US one does.

Mommy Fall Down and Go Boom!

So Sunday was supposed to be my day of drunken debauchery. Kinda, actually what I did have was a day long drill with the firefighters where there was two separate drinking parties scheduled. Usually these parties after a day long event see us at a local snack or hostess club. For those who don't know, the idea is a place to go and drink overly expensive and watered drinks while singing karaoke, munching on snack foods, and flirting outrageously with the girls who are there to make guys happy.

Now before this raises eyebrows, let me clarify, no, we're not talking about THAT kind of happiness (At least not at the ones we normally go to), instead, ala Teahouse of the August Moon, these are girls who normally pour drinks, light cigarettes, sing, and fluff our egos to rather silly heights via flirting and putting up with us in general.

Or in my case, I go to drink, get drunk enough to inflict my singing on people, and listen while the girls tell me my Japanese is sooooo great because I said yes to them and then proclaim their ignorance of English and either attempt to get a free English lesson off of me or find ways of avoiding me because the concept of having to speak English scares them. This is probably why Beloved has no fears that I would ever run away with a bar hostess.

Any case, to pay the piper however, we DID have a drill and one that required me to get to the firehouse on Sunday at 7:30 in the morning with temps hovering just above freezing. So I did get up early, dressed in my uniform, and was just heading downstairs to sneak out of the house when I found Beloved and the kids up at 10 till 7. A bit odd, but then I had forgotten Thomas. Still, not a bad thing, right? I mean, Daddy gets to say goodbye because he probably won't be home till late.

That's when I noticed Beloved had this... interesting expression on her face. Pain, lots of it. It seems she had managed to pull a muscle in her neck. Enough that even twisting slightly caused enough agony to start her crying.

That's actually how I knew she wasn't faking it. Beloved doesn't normally cry. It takes a lot to get her going, but seeing actual tears...

So what's a husband to do but call off his day with the boys and spend the day with his boys?

Which is what I did of course. Instead of drill and drinking, it was coloring pictures with my sons and watching a Scooby-Doo movie while dealing with the household chores to keep Beloved from straining her neck too much.

Of course, the odd thing was that her neck was well enough to go out winter clothes shopping for herself and the boys while I took care of them either at the store or at the house. Maybe I should check for a bottle of fake tears?

Makoto and Vampires, and Nekkied Boobs! Oh Myyyy!

Makoto wanted a vampire movie.

I really don't know why. I mean, the kid was playing with the flashcards that I was using for my Halloween lessons and it does have a vampire in it, but just from that one cartoony image, he decides that he needs a scary vampire movie.

What we ended up doing was heading over to the local video store (Yes, they still have them in Japan, but this rents movies, CDs, games, and sells books too) to look for some Halloween films that would be scary enough for a 5-year-old without getting into both-children-are-now-permanently-attached-to-Daddy's-leg kind of scary. Obviously this would take some fine line walking and for the light of me, I couldn't remember a single vampire film that didn't either get way too scary (Fright Night or Lost Boys), too emo (Interview with the Vampire) or just wander into no... just no territory (Twilight). What I thought was just skipping the whole vampire bit and going for Disney's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Now I might be a bit odd, but that cartoon scared the dickens out of me when I was a little boy and I remember any number of nightmares about being chased by the headless horseman.

Yes, THIS gave me nightmares, THIS!

Oddly enough, the bad part of the dreams wasn't the idea that he would cut off my head, but that he would show me what was down his neck.

Alas, even for a country that loves Disney, we couldn't find it. We also couldn't find the original Dracula or Frankenstein (But we could find Young Frankenstein, which for some reason was in the horror section). We did get Nightmare Before Christmas, but Makoto was hankering for a scary movie and kept 'suggesting' various titles (I.e. picking them out at random). It was a constant stream of "How about this?" (Child's Play) "No." "This?" (Friday the 13th Part I) "No." "This one?" (Paranormal Activity) "Oh heck no!" Meanwhile of course Hikaru, having wandered over to the SF section was pointing out the movie he recognized. "Superman! Superman! Superman! Superman!" and trying to fly like the hero.

THIS was his choice

Finally, time growing short, Makoto handed me "Vampires: The Turning" and I didn't know anything about it. So of course we grabbed it, and Superman II and went home. The plan was, ok, I'll check the movie online before showing it too Makoto just in case it was too scary or had anything that wouldn't go over well.

What I read on IMDb wasn't exactly recommending the film as something a 5-year-old would be wise to see. For one thing, it was supposed to be the third film in John Carpenter's Vampires series. I had seen the first film, even read the original book. I liked the first film a lot, it was a good vampire flick, scary, action packed, and very enjoyable... for a college guy. For a young boy... Uh... Well, not only was it a really scary movie, but well... the language leaves a lot to be desired, especially in terms of little boys who mimic everything they hear (Yeah, having Hikaru say "cocksucker" would go over really well with Beloved), and of course I did remember that just about every single female in that movie ends up extremely naked. Sometimes it seems like it you were a woman in that film, your clothes would spontaneously combust just so we could see your bust.

This wasn't something that was looking good.

But hark! Apparently this was the bastard red-headed step-child of the Vampires series and one that John Carpenter had nothing to do with. One it was set in Thailand and featured a different take on things, and two it was mostly a martial arts film. The problem I did have was twofold. One, Makoto was demanding to be allowed to see his scary vampire movie and two, there was this entry in the IMDb:

There is a scene where the Stephanie Chao "a good vampire" bites a willing person that wants to be temporarily turned to save his girlfriend and then has sex with him.
They fall in love and she bites and kisses his neck at the same time repeatedly.
Next scene seconds later: Stephanie Chao is having sex on the man nude (Breasts and nipples) are seen and she is riding him while he is turning into a vampire. Sex, nudity, and graphic sexuality seen.

 This put me in a bit of a bind. Beloved and I have talked about the day that will eventually come when we've got to explain to our sons about the birds and bees. I, personally, plan to take a page from my mother and I'm waiting for them to either ask me where babies come from, or around age 10ish or so, whichever comes first. In the mean time however, what I don't want to do is suggest to either of my sons that their bodies are somehow shameful or dirty. I really dislike that bit about various cultures that we tell children that they need to hide this part of them. It's one thing to explain that it's what we do as it's socially required, but... well... It just doesn't seem right to tell a boy that his penis is dirty so he shouldn't touch it. Or that sex itself is somehow shameful or disgusting and needs to be hidden.

I'm not trying to say I want my sons to be exhibitionists or to go out scoring chicks (Or guys, depending) every night. Indeed, when the time comes my rules are going to be very firm: I would like you to wait until marriage or at least in a long term relationship. Even if you choose not to follow my wishes, you WILL use protection even if I have to buy it for you myself. And if you DO happen to impregnate a girl, you will support her and respect her wishes or else you will learn the truth of the phrase 'I brought you into the world and I can damn well take you out of it'. What I am trying to say however is that I want my sons to have a healthy attitude about sex, their bodies, and their sexuality because I feel that not being ashamed or scared of it makes them far more likely to be knowledgeable and to talk to me about it instead of listening to the grapevine and assuming that, really, if the girl jumps up and down really hard afterwards she won't get pregnant.

That said, at age 5, this isn't the talk we need to have right this minute and I don't plan to get a subscription to some of the more interesting magazines in Japan to provoke that talk.

Which came back to the problem... This movie had a sex scene, with naked boobies. And Makoto wanted to watch it. I didn't want to just say no because I didn't want him to take away the lesson of shame, etc. But on the other hand... I didn't want to start this up right now. And there was the violence factor as well, I don't want him exposed to too much of it (Something that finally dawned on me while watching The Dark Knight on TV one night. After the Joker's 'magic trick' it occurred to me that my sons really shouldn't be watching this yet).

There was one compromise I could see to allow Makoto to see his scary vampire film and to make sure things didn't get into areas either violent or sexual that I didn't want him to deal with yet. I would watch the movie with him, remote in hand. I figured it if started getting a bit too much... we'll skip.

Besides, as I said to Beloved, if he does get a boobie shot, at least it's an Asian boob and nothing he hasn't seen before... which prompted Beloved to smack me.

So we settled down, got ready to watch the third instillation of the Vampires series... Makoto's scary vampire movie picked out of the horror section at the video store next to such thrillers as Paranormal Activity and Ring.

It.

Was.

So.

Bad.

We're talking Mystery Science Theater fodder here. We're saying beyond b-grade. We're saying a lead actor whose acting range was pretty much a constant expression of "fierce determination" (Or possible constipation  it's hard to say which). We're talking about a plot that makes less than no sense, actions that make even less sense than that, and vampires that mostly just wander around to smile and show off their teeth and contacts.

CHEEESE!

Yeah... I very quickly forgot worrying about Makoto being frightened about the vampires or the so-called martial arts or dirt bike chases and instead just proceeded to make fun of how gut achingly bad this movie was. Even Makoto could sense that something was off and was giggling through most of it.

And yes, when we did get to the sex scene, it too was so bad that I don't think Makoto even noticed, especially on fast forward. Beloved even wandered over to toss me a look that said plainly "This was what we were worried about?!"

So, I protected my sons against the dangers of violence and sexuality until they are old enough to handle them better... I think though that at least Makoto can handle bad movies, especially if Daddy is near by to help with the MST'ing.

There's just one thing to say to that:

Push the button, Frank!

Feeling My Age

So tomorrow I turn 34. Oyaji-hood (Oyaji being Japanese for old man with old fart feel) comes closer with each year. And, admittedly  I feel my years more as I spend time trying to case down two hyperactive boys who seemingly are powered by micro-perpetual motion machines.

Seriously, how can a two year old run that fast for that long? Shouldn't he stop sometime? And the 5 year old? He never stops, even when he's asleep!

But, yes, I know it's not quite mid-thirties, but it's close enough. And after next year? Well then I'll be closer to reaching my next decade than starting it. A middle age, out of it, uncool, over weight, uninteresting dad am I.

If I may borrow a phrase from some dear friends, screw that, sideways, with the rotating cactus.

I think, if anything, the lesson I can take from my grandparents was that one really is as old as you act. This isn't to say that my grandfather was a childish man, far from it, but until shortly before his death, he just never stopped going out and doing things. And yeah, I admit that chasing after young boys is tiring, that I look forward to the notion of taking a breather more than before, but it's also... new. If being 34 means that I've seen the world around me (My area of it at least) many times, having two boys who are in the exploring stage means I get to experience it all again for the first time. I've been camping up the ying-yang, it's new for the boys and their excitement is now mine. I already know about the solar system, they don't and they are excited to learn about it (Well, Makoto is. I'm not too sure Hikaru has actually noticed the heavens yet).

I mean, sure, I long since passed the obsession I had with trains... until I had boys who are now interested in them and while I may grumble a bit about it, I don't mind going to watch them with them and experience the joys of rail watching again. I might get tired, but I end up feeling young.

But it's more than that. Yeah, I'm approaching the mid-point of my life and while it seems that I should be frustrated with the dreams that haven't happen and will never happen, those roads not taken as Robert Frost labeled them, I'm not. Instead... I want to see what happens next with my sons, my wife, my family. This could be, perhaps, because I didn't have my own father growing up so I have no real pattern to follow or to see in regards to fatherhood from toddlerhood to teenage years, but I don't think so. Instead, well, let me relate an essay in the book I Should Have Seen it Coming When the Rabbit Died by Teresa Bloomingdale.

I'm fairly sure the book was given to my mother as a babyshower gift and as was my wont, I read it a few times when growing up (This isn't unusual, for me. I read everything, including the backs of cereal boxes). It was pretty much a forerunner of this blog, a humorous take on parenthood (Motherhood in her case). Any case, the final chapter was called "Growing Old Along With Me, the Best is Yet to Be". In a bit of a change from the humor, the author related that while she was growing up at each milestone of her life when she proclaimed that this, THIS, was the peak of her life, her father would always reply "Just wait, it gets better". She related how she graduated from college, how proud she was and yet her father said wait, it gets better. She fell in love and got married, but just wait. She had the joy of being a new mother, holding her first son in her arms, but again her father said that it would get better.

The final bit was her at the wedding of her eldest son, watching this man whom she bore grow from a child to a man strong and proud who found a wonderful woman and who was now going to marry. She said silently to her departed father, if I recall correctly, "Oh Dad, you were right. This truly is the best. And I swear I heard him answer from up above, "That's what you think sweetheart!" Amazing, all this and heaven too!"

I am not at that point yet, but every day something new happens and while I might not always remember to appreciate it, I do. Tomorrow I turn 34, and in those 34 years I have lost my father, grown, graduated from college with a MA, moved halfway around the world, met the most wonderful woman on the planet, become a teacher, built a house, and have two beautiful little boys who are now on life's journeys of their own.

I ain't slowing down and getting old, I's just starting!

The best is yet to be and I can't wait to see what it will be.

Excuses, Excuses

I'm always rather amazed at the excuses that Makoto comes up with as to why he didn't do something that he was told to do. I don't mean the silly stuff like the Dalek ate my worksheet or things like that (Though he does come up with them from time to time), but I mean the more logical ones. Makoto is a rather logical little kid and his excuses are somewhat plausible... for a given value of plausible. After all, we are talking about a 5-year-old here so you have to accept a few things regarding his worldview. But to give you an example, take yesterday and the Battle over the Legos.

Yesterday was a busy day for me as Saturday I didn't manage to clean as we went hat hunting for Daddy's birthday (We didn't find one), snack hunting for the Halloween party (We found that), and our usual weekend shopping trip. That left Sunday for the weekly run of the vacuum cleaner as well as my planned assault on the bathroom.

It being October, it's soon going to be way too cold to think about scrubbing it down, rinsing with cold water, and then having the window open to let it dry.

During vacuuming though, the boys are not allowed to play with toys, the issue being that Daddy wants to get this done and not have to pick up yet another mess that was made while waiting. I admit, it's a trial for two small boys as for about a half an hour they can't play either upstairs or downstairs with their toys until I clear the room. So it was after the vacuum was finally put away that Makoto came to me to ask if I would PLEASE make him another Lego car.

No, said I. Daddy must clean the bathroom. Besides, here's the book, you can follow the directions.

Then came logical excuse number 1.

"But I can't find the parts, Daddy."

Then, said I, dump out the bucket to find them. BUT! If you do, you have to clean them up again, ok? I am not going to clean them up again, ok?

See, previous Lego cars have been a begging child who claims that he can't follow the directions (Which he can, he's proven that with the Duplo set), followed by promises that if Daddy builds it he would indeed clean up the Legos, and have always ended up with me sitting on the floor scooping Legos back into the bucket while Makoto is downstairs watching TV. No, this time I would not do so.

Promise made, Legos dumped and I attacked the bathroom with the power of Scrubbing Bubbles! Or was in the middle of it when, "Daddy! I can't find..."

Yup, Makoto was back. To make a long story short, I ended up, yet again, on the floor building another Lego car for him because he couldn't find the pieces (Though amazingly, once I told him what to look for, he had no problem finding them quickly). I admit that I shouldn't have given into him, but... well... as Beloved notes, I tend to turn back into a 10-year-old boy myself when allowed to play with Legos so...

But then the problem was the cleanup. Makoto swore that, yes, he WOULD clean up, but first Mommy was calling for the boys to come down for lunch.

And then he wanted to take a nap.

And then, well, Daddy had to leave for drill with the firefighters, but he promised, he promised that he would have them cleaned up by the time I came home. Thus when I left the after-party I called Beloved to find out that, no, the Legos hadn't been touched at all and instead all 20,000 of them were still scattered over the floor in his room. This called for a fatherly ultimatum, i.e. "Tell Makoto that if the Legos are not picked up by the time Daddy gets home, Daddy is going to take every Lego he can find and Makoto won't see them again till he's 22!"

Now it normally takes me a half an hour to walk from the firehouse to my house, depending on traffic, train, and how drunk I am. This time I decided to be slightly nice and dawdle a bit. That and I wanted to practice marching as I was getting teased about how big gaijin take big steps. But in any case, it took me closer to 40 minutes to finally arrive at the house to a hysterical 5-year-old in tears and snot.

No, the Legos were not picked up.

Sending Makoto upstairs to await his doom Beloved told me, trying to stop laughing, that Makoto had been coming up with excuse after excuse trying to get her on his side. His hands were too small to clean up all the Legos. Hikaru wasn't helping him (By which he meant that Hikaru hadn't done all of the work himself). He couldn't finish cleaning because Hikaru had taken some of the Legos.

All of which I admit were pretty good, logical, and somewhat plausible excuses. Going upstairs, still in uniform, I find Makoto still crying, a Lego bucket almost 3/4 full, and a pile of Legos still on the floor. Now this is a difficult moment as a father. On one hand, I want to impress on Makoto that he should have started this earlier. He had 6 hours to get them cleaned up, 6 hours that he did nothing. On the other, I don't want to scare him and he did get most of them up. On the gripping hand though... I admit that I was trying really hard not to laugh at him standing there dribbling snot and tears and choking out one excuse after another about why they hadn't been picked up and could Daddy please help him. It probably means I'm a terrible father, but... Yes, I admit he looked hilarious.

And, finally, I admit that I didn't really have the heart to deny my sons what was one of my favorite toys growing up. I still have fond memories of building Lego robots with my best friend and until the day we moved out of the house when I was in my mid-teens, we were still finding Legos that had been lost.

So I ended up telling Makoto that I was going downstairs to change out of my uniform and that he needed to get everything up as best he could until I returned. And they were, mostly, and I helped him with the last few handfuls of the small stuff. He did come up with one really good excuse about the whole mess, because apparently the reason why he didn't get them cleaned up was because he was trying to figure out how to build another one for Hikaru so they wouldn't fight. A sigh from Beloved told me that, no, he and Hikaru had been fighting non-stop, but I have to admit, that was a pretty good excuse.

Explaining When the Towers, and the Bombs, Fell

So last month was the 11th anniversary of the September 11th attacks. It passed without much notice by my students. To be fair of course, it did happen in another country and happened when they were two. Like my sons, they have no memory of anytime when the towers were up.

This week my third year students also finished a unit entitled "A Mother's Lullaby", which takes place in Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. Given that I was silly enough to open my mouth and suggest a challenge to my teaching partner, I ended up presenting the American takes on the bombings to a class full of Japanese junior high school kids, in English.

Awkward it was, yes, but I want to think it was an important lesson. In my speech I noted that my family is both the beginning, and ending, of World War II. My step-grandfather was at Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941. The sub he was on was damaged and he was trapped on board for three days before he was rescued. On the other end, Beloved's grandfather was a survivor of Hiroshima. He had taken his family, including Jiji, to shelter in a cave outside of the city. While they were protected from the bombing, he went into it afterwards to help and find out information. There he was caught in the Black Rain.

Like most Americans, my family fought in WWII, and like most Japanese, Beloved's family was also involved. All of this history did make it a bit delicate when Beloved and I started to date. I remember her telling me just how scared she was when I brought her to my grandparents' house for the first time as my grandfather was a WWII Navy vet (Just for the record, my grandfather adored her, thought she was a wonderful woman, a great addition to the family, and (probably why he liked her so much) just so much fun to tease the hell out of). I, on the other hand, was more than a bit nervous to meet her family given the above.

That was before I found out that her family not only had no qualms about having an American son-in-law, but proceeded to do their level best to make sure this happened.

But all of it does mean that my sons have it, in a way, both coming and going and one day we will have to explain to them the stories of their family, both sides. It's something that I have been thinking about since I went ahead and conducted a lesson about Hiroshima for my students.

How do I approach this? What can I say to them to help them understand when the times comes? And when is that time?

I think that last part is gonna be the really tricky one. Beloved took me to the Peace Museum at Hiroshima once. Once, and she has made it clear that due to the memories that it invokes, she will not be taking me back a second time. If my family comes over, I get to play tour guide, she'll wait for us on Miyajima while snacking on oysters. In Beloved's opinion, there will be just one final trip to the Peace Park and Ground Zero, and that is when we take our children to it so she can explain about their great-grandfather and what happened to him and how this is a part of their history.

I feel that we should also, in the same year, make the trip to Hawai'i and Pearl Harbor to explain about their set-grandfather's father and about both their blood great-grandfathers and why their father's country dropped the bomb on their mother's. Hopefully we can impress upon them that their very existence shows that hatred can be overcome and nations can be at peace.

Maybe.

Maybe I can also come up with a way to explain 9/11 to them and why there is still hate in the world.

And, maybe, I can also state that there will never be another Hiroshima, or Pearl Harbor, or 9/11.

Why Doesn't This Kid Sleep?! A Timeline of a Father With a Singing Toddler

To fully understand the events of which I am about to report, it is necessary to know that Monday was a. a holiday in Japan and thus one where I didn't have school and neither did my sons. And b. a park day, given that the random twitching and threats of defenestration towards our sons from Beloved had reached dangerous levels, suggesting that a day off for her was desperately needed. The result was of course two dead kids. Hikaru barely made it out of the park gate before conking out and Makoto went 15 minutes before Lord Morpheus claimed him as well. The both of them slept for no more than 45 minutes (That's the great thing about the park, the drive home is long enough to get in a nice nap), and after waking, they spent a good chunk of the evening chasing each other around like loons.

Beloved and I felt that, yes, they had a busy, eventful day full of play and an evening full of the same. Their napping time was limited, much shorter than the hour and a half that Hikaru normally takes, and thus both children should go to sleep pretty quickly this night.

Yeah, right...

8:40 pm: The chime rings summoning me from my office to fish two wet kids out of the tub. Both kids come racing out the door trailing water to jump on their PJ-clad father, soaking him and demanding hugs, repeatedly. After a quick drying off the nightly books were read (Trick or Treat for Makoto and 10 Fat Turkeys for Hikaru, who would launch into a round of giggling every time he heard "Gobble Gobble Wibble Wobble"), the water gotten, the blanket taken, and both boys deposited into their respective futons. Ni-night, sleep well, love you and a kiss good night...

9:00 pm: Beloved comes in from the end of her bath, kisses the boys good night and the lights are off except for my reading light. While Beloved rolls over, I go back to Middle Earth, the pass of Cirith Ungol, and the choice of Master Samwise. I expect to hear the nightly noises of snoring from both sons shortly.

9:10 pm: Hikaru launches the night by jumping over Beloved onto his brother while yelling "Gobble gobble!" Both boys break out into a bad case of the giggles while I curse those ten fat turkeys and mutter threats of revenge involving stuffing. Beloved grabs Hikaru, shoves him back into the futon, I hook Makoto into his, and try again to get them to sleep.

9:15 pm: Makoto rolls over and starts to 'read' his book. "Trick or treat? Trick or treat! Give me something good to eat!" which prompts more "Gobble! Gobble!" from Hikaru, who wanders around to Makoto, trailing his blanket. Beloved grabs Hikaru, mummy wraps him in the blanket and puts him back on the futon. Makoto finds Daddy growling at him, gives up and starts to bury himself into his blanket, off to the Land of Nod. The battle is over.

9:20 pm: The battle is NOT over as a series of thumps announces Hikaru has worked his way free of his blanket and wanders over to Daddy's futon to try and read over his shoulder about how Pippin, Gandalf, and Shadowfax ride to Minas Tirith. Daddy yells at him to GO TO BED! Hikaru goes back to his futon, managing to hit the wall on his way.

9:30 pm: Hikaru starts singing "Engine Roll Call" from Thomas the Tank Engine (Not that he's actually singing mark you, it's more him going "Na na na na" with engine names). Beloved rolls onto her side, determined to ignore the toddler in the hopes that he will go to sleep out of boredom if nothing else.

9:45 pm: The impact of a small body traveling at high speed jolts me awake from where I was nodding over Pipping swearing his service to the Lord Steward Denethor. Hikaru grins at me from where he has wedged himself in between the wall and my body and giggles as I tell him to go to sleep.

10:00 pm. Thinking that, at last, he is asleep, I raise my head up from my book just to see Hikaru grinning at me. "Gobble gobble!" he says.

10:05 pm: Hikaru has taken to walking back and forth at the feet of the futons while his brother snores and his mother is still busy ignoring him. Daddy tries to do the same, going back to Lord of the Rings. When that doesn't work, he tells him to go to sleep. More giggles.

10:10 pm: Being ignored, Hikaru switches to going back to his futon and kicking the walls. The thumps sound rather like taiko drums. Obviously this kid has talents we had not previously discovered, all well and good except at 10 o'clock at night!

10:15 pm: Back to singing. I look at Makoto, who is sound asleep and snoring, and at Beloved who is also asleep, or at least pretending to be so as to not have to acknowledge the toddler as being her son. I wish I could join her.

10:20: Now Hikaru has gone from singing to singing and drumming his feet on the bedroom wall. I start wondering what possessed me to bring him back from the park. I mean, I could have left him there, I'm sure some kind family would have adopted him (Being so cute after all), or... failing that, a tribe of monkeys! Yes, he'd fit in well with a monkey tribe.

10:25 pm: Five minutes of silence, dare I hope? "Gobble!"

I dared, I hoped, it was dashed.

10:30 pm: Daddy is about ready to just give up and shut off the light in the hopes that the still singing toddler will take the bloody hint. But hark! What was that? A yawn?! Yes! Yes it was! With one final "Gobble!" Hikaru  grabs his blanket, turns over with a thump into the wall, and starts to finally settle down.

10:32 pm: The snores, the very loud snores, signal that Hikaru has finally gone to sleep. Beloved rouses herself up long enough to make sure he's on his futon and is covered with his blanket. "Well," I say to her, "At least we know that a 45 minute nap will fully recharge him."

In his sleep, Hikaru is still saying "Gobble, gobble" and giggling. I'm gonna shoot those damn turkeys.

These Colors Don't Run

I'm afraid that it's a short post today, everyone's caught a minor cold.

Well, everyone but me has caught I minor cold; I feel like I've been smashed by a giant hammer.

Any case, Makoto, since his Sports Day has taken to coloring flags. The kids at his school had colored all the flags of the world for the event and Makoto liked it so much, this has been his new evening project.

First we did the big one, the Stars and Stripes. Excepting having a minor difficulty with the concept of alternating red and white stripes, he didn't do too badly.

Next we jumped the Atlantic to color the flag of the United Kingdom. The Union Jack proved a wee bit tricky, but in the end it was well done and sure to make my fellow teacher, who's from London, smile when he sees it.

The next bit however was a bit tricky. Originally Makoto asked me for help coloring the flag of South Korea (By help I mean Daddy is the one to find the coloring pages online and print them out and also tell Makoto what is what color), which lead to the following exchange yesterday in Japanese:

Makoto: Mommy, what colors are the Korean flag?

Beloved: Blue, white, red, and black.

Makoto: I can't find my black crayon... What flag is red, white, and blue like America's?

Beloved: France

Makoto: (In English) Daddy, I want to color the France flag tomorrow, ok?!

Tomorrow, since he still has some red crayon left, we're tackling the flag of Japan.

Hikaru

If Makoto came into the world curious about what it held, Hikaru came in hungry.

He's still hungry.

The second pregnancy was, in my respects, better than the first. we were far more confident in what was going on inside Beloved's body having been through it before. While the first time around we read the pregnancy books as if they were the Bible, the second time we glanced at them from time to time.

Hikaru didn't really have that big of a drama to go with his birth. I got the call while at school, hurried home, took Beloved into the hospital at around 4 and Hikaru showed up just short of 7 pm that day. He was a big baby, but if anything he was, he was hungry.

Makoto ignored his mother's breast when offered, Hikaru not only latched on but started sucking and nursed for a good 15 minutes or so before he finally decided he had enough for the day and went to sleep. It was long enough for me to go back to the house and pick up my mother-in-law and Makoto to meet our newest family member and long enough to call back to the US to inform my parents that they had another grandson, and that his name came from Beloved's grandfather's and that his middle would be Richard, after my step-father.

Today is his second birthday.

Hikaru has proved himself to be a fighter, Makoto was passive when he was smaller, letting other kids take his toys, Hikaru's the one who is taking the toys. Maybe it is the way with brothers, but Hikaru's a scraper and more stubborn by far than his brother.

Oddly enough however, I don't really have that great of difficulty in dealing with Hikaru. I have a harder time with Makoto whereas Hikaru drives Beloved up a wall quite regularly. Sometimes I wonder if my difficulties with Makoto are not related to how close he is to me in terms of personality... Of course, if true that would mean that Beloved's problems with Hikaru stem from...

I think I'll stop that thought there, Beloved does read this from time to time.

It is hard,  think for Hikaru because even on his day, he gets compared to his brother. I usually describe them as Makoto is one of the most beautiful little boys that I have known. Hikaru is very cute, but he isn't beautiful like his brother. Or to put it another way, when Makoto smiles, your reaction is to think how beautiful. When Hikaru grins, you want to grin in return. This isn't to say that Hikaru is ugly, just... he feels so much like a naturally good-humored kid. You just want to laugh when he is around, not at him, but just because that is how he makes you feel.

Two years isn't a very long time in terms of how he will develop or where he will go, but on his birthday I can state that I wouldn't have traded in these last two years for anything. He might drive his parents nuts, he may stand in the kitchen loudly demanding more and more food, and of course he will constantly fight with his brother, but then he's also the one who will be cheerfully grinning at you in the morning.

In fact, should he ever get married and I am asked to state my favorite memory of him, I think it will be thus: Hikaru, toddling out of the bedroom, trailing his blanket, with a wide, energetic grin that doesn't belong on anyone's face at 6 am in the morning, coming over to the table saying "Daddy!" and pointing at my yogurt as he steals my breakfast yet again. That is Hikaru, a kid who knows what he wants and will get it, but will make it all seem right anyway because you just have to laugh with someone enjoying life this much.

It's Festival Time, Again?!

First it was the Fall Festival at the local shrine, then it was the Culture Festival at the school that I teach at, and today... Well, today was Sports Festival at Makoto's pre-school.

In Japanese, this is known as undokai and is a serious event that happens throughout a Japanese life. It starts in pre-school, picks up steam in elementary, comes to age in junior high and high school, and can still be found in both college and adult life. This Japan Times article goes into great detail about undokai for elementary school, but we're talking Makoto.

Makoto, who has been practicing his song and dance for the last three weeks, often at the top of his lungs and in the bath.

Race time

But this was Makoto's day to shine. His class had a number of events to participate in: a school song, a race, a ninja obstacle course, giving gifts to younger children, and finally, the parent dance. The first two are pretty self explanatory, the only downer was that Makoto came in 3 of 3, and this was after worrying that he was going to toss a shoe like he had been doing in practice, but even though he came in last for his heat, he was all grins.

The last three however needs some explanation. Makoto's class's theme was ninja, for some reason and their costumes were supposedly ninja.

Apparently even the Japanese are starting to believe the lies of Naruto given that the kids had gold headbands on.

But the whole thing was cute, first the kids raced on their homemade can walkers, then they hopped between two tables, climbed over an inverted L pipe, and then attacked the crow...

Ninja the tengu!

Er... I think. I'm still not too sure as to what that was, but they all picked a fruit (A water balloon) from a 'tree' and then tossed it into the basket being held by a tengu, a crow goblin from Japanese mythology. I'm not exactly sure as to why they did this, or what ninja skill this was supposed to be, but Makoto was Makoto. The poor tengu had spilled his basket of balloons right before Makoto showed up so instead of tossing it into the basket, Makoto very politely went over and placed his balloon carefully into the basket.

This is my son in action. ^_^

The next activity involved Makoto's class giving gifts to the younger children in his school as well as every other young child, i.e. the younger brothers and sisters of the kids in the school. Yes, it was very cute, this dad has no problem stating that the awwww factor was high here, especially as the first time around there was a slight miscount and Makoto didn't get to give his gift, which led to him and his partner poking at it to try and determine just what went wrong.

FINALLY got it!

The best part was Hikaru however as he was supposed to get a gift too. And boy did he try, every time the whistle blew, he'd take off like a bat out of hell just to be caught by Beloved. When his time finally came... He proceeded to run... right to Makoto because he thought big brother was going to be giving him something.

Again folks, awww....

The final event was the all school parents dance. Beloved backed out of this one and I, clad in a suit minus the tie and jacket because I had to head back to school to finish my school's festival, joined the crowd to dance with my son. Of course, I didn't know the dance, couldn't understand the Japanese, and couldn't see the teachers demonstrating the dance, but it didn't matter. I got to dance with my son two times around with the song, smacking thumbs, bumping rears, and then high fives. Silly, yes, but the smiles were worth it.

Finally, undokai came to a close and the school principal, again keeping with the Olympic theme, awarded everyone the gold.

Bringing home the gold

Silly, perhaps, but for the kids who had been practicing for weeks, it was was all worth it. Next year will be Makoto's last so he'll be doing the longer, more physically challenging events to prepare him for undokai at elementary school.

Hopefully by then we can figure out a way to keep Hikaru from trying to sneak onto the field, steal food from other people, or kidnap someone else's daddy to take him on the slides.