A Fish Out of Water

Flower Boy

Last month saw Shuma's first hanami, but that wasn't his first time admiring flowers. He's been doing so since January, starting with roubai (wintersweet).

OK, so perhaps he's not admiring the flowers so much as tolerating them, but him being four months old and this being his first time seeing blossoms I wasn't expecting much.

He did better a month and a half later with mansaku (witch hazel), actually looking at the long petals for a few seconds before losing interest.

In March we had a surprise snowfall and I took Shuma out to have the local park nearly to ourselves.

He stayed asleep in his stroller though, so missed out on the spectacle of spring flowers topped with snow. Here we have more mansaku, followed by ume (Japanese apricot).

By the time the mansaku were in full bloom he was much more receptive, enjoying the sights of the blossoms, the feel of the petals on his cheeks, and, maybe this was just my imagination, savouring their fragrance.

The sakura (cherry blossoms) came just in time for a greatly improved sense of sight and touch. He was delighted by the blooms and would grasp fistfuls of them if brought up close enough.

Next up in the calendar of flowers is mokuren (magnolia), another blossom whose perfume he enjoyed.

A few others were enjoyed without cameras present. He loved azaleas and went wild for lilacs in particular (and I was delighted to see them for the first time ever in Japan, hiding out at my local park). And most recently we have karumiya (mountain laurel), whose flowers tend to be a bit sticky. I tried my best to prevent him from grabbing them, but when we got home I kept finding little mountain laurel blossoms stuck to his clothes, his carrier, my back, and even my hair.

And now that we're in southern Ontario, which is roughly a month behind Tokyo's growing season, we get to experience an extra-long season of spring flowers. He can't wait for our lilacs to bloom.

Preppy

Check out Mr. Preppy in his pastel striped polo suit! The matching mittens are a nice touch, I think. He wears them every night and sometimes during the day when he's extra itchy, so he doesn't cause any damage when he scratches himself.

I'm very curious to see what his eczema will be like in Canada. His dad's eczema usually gets a bit better when visiting (and almost disappears in drier places like LA), so I'm hoping Shuma will be the same. I'm also hoping he's NOT allergic to cats, like his mom.

Off to Grandma's

Here's another Costco outfit, this time featuring a dinosaur on a bicycle. Where is he riding to, you ask? Let's take a closer look:

Why what a coincidence, so are we! Shuma and I will be in Canada for the next six weeks (poor Hideaki has to stay home). If only it were a pleasant bike ride away, rather than a twelve-hour flight...

A Year of Wildlife

On our walk yesterday Shuma and I saw tonnes of birds, including two snowy egrets, lots of ducks, and exactly twenty-four ducklings. One mommy duck had twelve babies! Is it even possible for a duck to lay and successfully hatch a dozen eggs at once? Or was she babysitting? I don't know, but they were adorable.

It seems to be a tradition to have neat animal sightings the day before a big trip. Last year, the day prior to a visit back home, I witnessed one of the most incredible wildlife episodes ever. It could have been on Animal Planet or National Geographic except that it involved two rather mundane creatures: a crow and a rat. Oh, but what happened was anything but mundane.

Hideaki and I were just walking out of the local convenience store when I saw a minor commotion in front of us: a rat scampering down the sidewalk and a crow hopping along the road beside it. Crows are numerous in Tokyo, so much so that they are considered pests, but rats are a rare sight (they're there of course, you just don't usually see them). So I stopped to watch what was going on, figuring they were fleeing from one of the neighborhood stray cats.

But when the rat scooted under a parked car and the crow started hopping around the car and trying to get under it, I started to wonder who was fleeing from who. And when the rat darted into some bushes and the crow flew in pursuit it became clear that the crow was after the rat. Now Japanese crows (a variety called jungle crows) are huge beasts, and I know they are omnivorous, but I thought their hunting was limited to bugs and worms and the like. This rat was fully half its size, and I assume as wily and vicious as any wild rat. This was either a very hungry or very badass crow.

After a few minutes of hiding in the bushes the rat made a run for it, heading across the sidewalk and past us (a little too close for comfort) and into the convenience store parking lot. Which was walled on two sides and open to a street and the sidewalk on the other sides. The crow flew right behind it and the rat headed straight to the walled-in corner where it was, of course, trapped. It dashed back and forth and tried frantically to jump up the wall- holy cow could it ever jump high! Not high enough though, and in a desperate last-ditch effort to escape it ran out into the street. Where the crow finally swooped in and grabbed it, catching it with such ease that I couldn't help thinking that it could have ended the chase long before then and had just been toying with the rat.

So the crow flew awkwardly away, the squirming rat squirming in its claws. And we both stood there with our mouths hanging open, asking each other "Did you see that?". I wasn't sure how to feel, like in a documentary where there's a cheetah chasing a gazelle and you want to root for the gazelle but you know the cheetah has to catch it to survive so you're also rooting for the cheetah and you just wish the cheetah would come across some already dead animal (that had died peacefully of old age of course) and let the gazelle go and they'd all live happily ever after. Except this was the exact opposite of that and I was kind of hoping the crow and the rat would somehow both get eaten.

I've kept a close eye on the crows since then. There are several times of year when they're especially numerous and active: they love eating wild cherries in early summer and persimmons in the autumn, and they really like a kind beetle that comes out in June and the tent caterpillars that come after that. And they go absolutely apeshit over the cicada pupas that crawl out of the ground in July and August. But the biggest prey I've seen them stalk so far is a squeeze bottle of Kewpie mayonnaise.

Soon after the crow incident I was in Canada facing even greater perils: fire ants. They have invaded my hometown, apparently because our winters are no longer cold enough to keep them down south in America where they belong. So I was unable to go to the local park for berry-picking or walks with my Dad (which always involve lots of standing around while he looks for some special bush or something he saw last year) without either wearing shoes and socks or suffering the painful consequences. And I hate wearing shoes and socks in the summer almost as much as I hate pain. It was awful.

There was also supposed to be an invasion of deadly hogweed, which according to the Toronto papers would either blind or kill all who come across it. We never saw any though (but the fire ant-covered plant above was a suspect for a while), and after a couple of days of weedy hysteria I never heard about it again. Toronto folks: whatever happened with the hogweed?

Also while I was back home, I kept a brief journal and this is an entry from the first week:

"Woke up at 6, hiccups. Nobody up yet, nothing to do, nothing open. Looking out window to backyard saw 3 squirrels, cardinal, sparrows, blackbirds, turtle dove, grackle, starlings, budgie, mouse."

And now I remember it. The hiccups refer to the baby in my tummy, who used to hiccup at least once a day (and he kept it up until he was about three months old- now I really miss it). My dad has several birdhouses and feeders set up in the backyard, which mostly attract squirrels but also bring in the occasional bird. Cardinals are always a treat to see. We used to get more blue jays- I think the West Nile virus wiped most of them out. And last year for a few weeks a budgie was a regular at our bird feeders. We were planning to try to catch it and then put up signs looking for its owner, but one day it just stopped coming around. We figure either it found its way home or a cat ate it. Or maybe a crow got it.

(Off topic, but the journal's entry for the day before is "Mango run. Man behind me at checkout asked what they were.". I love how my dad and I went crazy for mangoes last year, I love how a stranger asked me about my produce (would never happen in Japan), I love how there are people who don't know what mangoes are, and I love that I wrote it down because I would have forgotten it otherwise.)

Back in Japan last year, while walking at our local park, I did a double take when I passed what appeared to be a chicken. It was a chicken, pecking away at the grass like it belonged there. Now this is Wako Jurin Koen, a fairly large and verdant park in Wakoshi, Saitama. It's not central Tokyo, but it's not farm country either and you certainly don't expect to see livestock while out for a stroll. So that evening I mentioned it to Hideaki and he said "Oh, you saw the chicken?". All casual-like, no big deal, as if I'd mentioned seeing the neighbors roses in bloom or the Big Dipper or something.

So apparently he'd seen the chicken a few times before and had not found it remarkable enough to mention. Which proves that he really doesn't know anything about me, because that's just the kind of news that would make my day. Hell, it would probably make my month.

We wondered how it could survive in the park, a place where there's always lots of people walking their dogs, and a small population of stray cats, and in the summer a few homeless men, who surely must get hungry. And those crows! It's a total mystery. But while Hideaki continued to spot it occasionally, I didn't see it for months. I was starting to get worried, and then one day in the fall while out walking with my little newborn Shuma I saw it. That's him above, isn't he a beauty? It seemed totally unafraid and I was able to get close, but not too close- see those murderous claws? I had a baby to protect.

There was a man nearby who looked like he knew the chicken, so I asked him what the deal was. And I am able to report to you all that I still don't have a clue, because I couldn't understand a god-damn thing he said. A combination of the muffling effect of the face mask, some kind of weird provincial accent, and just the generally unintelligible way old Japanese men talk caused his long, and no doubt very helpful and interesing, explanation to be completely lost on me. But my guess is that it's his pet and he brings it to the park on nice days to eat bugs and stuff. To fatten it up, I suppose. Come to think of it, I haven't seen the chicken in months.

First Date, Family Date

Last month Hideaki and I went on our first date, just the two of us, in seven months. That's a long time to wait by North American standards and totally normal, if not early, by Japanese standards. It wasn't how I planned it- if I had my way we'd have been having a weekly date night since Shuma was born. But it turns out that Shuma is rather unbabysittable, as he doesn't know how to use a bottle and can only be fed by me.

But when Shuma was born our city gave us vouchers for free babysitting, and we finally realized we'd be crazy not to use them. So we dropped Shuma off at the government-approved babysitter around the corner and went out for lunch (for some reason the babysitters are only allowed to work until 5:00). We were tempted to just head back and spend our allotted two hours at home (nudge nudge, wink wink) but figured since we'd gotten all dressed up we might as well go out.

We originally wanted to eat at a newish Italian place nearby but couldn't get a reservation, so we went to Sakai, another Italian place a bit farther away. It's been around forever but is the kind of slightly intimidating old neighborhood restaurant that seems to stay in business due to the loyalty of its regulars, and we'd avoided it. Turns out it's a great family-run business, with an old-school Japanese-Italian menu, and although the interior is old and faded, the service a bit gruff, and the presentation a little sloppy, the cooking is great. That's my lunch above: spinach linguine with seafood in tomato sauce, and it was delicious. While we were there it seemed like everyone who came in was indeed a regular, and we wouldn't mine becoming regulars ourselves.

Predictably we spent most of the lunch talking about Shuma. We weren't exactly worried but were intensely curious about what he was doing and figured he was probably bawling his eyes out and driving the babysitter crazy. But when we picked him up after two hours she came to the door with our son, who was yawning and looking perfectly content. And then when he turned around and saw us he turned right back around and started crying! Ouch, that hurt.

He tried to cling to her as she handed him back. "So he's been crying the whole time?" we asked, but she said this was the first time he'd cried and that he'd been great. "We played for a while, then he got sleepy and I put him down for a nap. He's only crying because he just woke up." This is the same baby who has been completely unable to nap by himself (as in he has to be in my lap, on Hideaki's shoulder or in a carrier) since he outgrew his swing chair at three and a half months. I would think she was lying if not for the fact that Shuma had also napped the month before when we were in Osaka and my mother-in-law looked after him while I went to the doctor (his only other experience being babysat).

While I'm tempted to think these ladies are just having me on, it probably means that veteran baby experts know secret napping techniques, and that I am doing it all wrong. So although it was really nice to spend some time alone with my husband, it was also a bit of a blow to my ego.

Please, will someone share those secret napping techniques?

We eat out as a family a few times a month, and surprisingly the places we go to are not terribly different from before- the places we can afford tend to be family-friendly already. One Sunday we had lunch at Butcher's Table, a local burger shop. We started with some excellent onion rings that could have been a meal by themselves, and were made all the better with delicious home-made ketchup.

Next we had burgers. That's my avocado cheeseburger above, with fries that weren't quite as good as the onion rings but thanks to the ketchup were totally acceptable. The burgers were good but Hideaki found them a bit overpriced (I don't eat hamburgers often enough to know what their going rate is, but for what it's worth my burger and fries were 1050 yen). We sat on their tiny patio which was kind of nice but kind of not as it was right up against a narrow and fairly busy sidewalk and everone who passed by checked out either our food or Shuma.

Last week Hideaki had a day off right when Shuma's new passport was ready to be picked up in Ikebukuro. This is his Japanese passport (he won't be able to apply for a Canadian one until we get his proof of citizenship papers in a few months) and applying for it a few weeks before that was my easiest and most pleasant experience with Japanese officialdom ever. If only immigration and city hall were that nice to deal with. So anyway for the next five years Shuma will be using a passport with a picture of him at three months old, looking extremely grumpy. Yes, the pictures are nearly five months old: I meant to get the passport before Christmas last year but things got a little busy. Same goes for his Canadian citizenship, which I applied for recently after filling out the forms way back in December. He's changed since then, and going over the paperwork last week I had to cross out "Grey" in the box about eye colour and fill in "Brown". It actually brought a few tears to my eye, thinking about how much he's already grown.

After we got the passport we had lunch at Joe's Shanghai, way up on the 59th floor of Ikebukuro's Sunshine City. We got a little room to ourselves in the corner, with what would have been an amazing view if not for the clouds. A few minutes after I took this picture the cloud cover was complete and all we saw was white. Oh well.

Shuma charmed the pants off of our waiter, who kept coming to visit and make funny faces, and on our way out held him for so long that we wondered if he'd ever give us our baby back. That's not a complaint, by the way- we love it when strangers fuss over Shuma, because Shuma loves it.

Joe's Shanghai is known for its shourampo (xiaolongbao, or soup dumplings), and we had them filled with pork and with crab. Very very good, especially the crab, which was rich with tomalley.

On our way home we realized we should have taken a picture of the waiter with Shuma, because they both looked so happy, and also should have asked him to take a picture of us. We only have a few pictures of us all together, and there we were all dressed up. And those pesky clouds made a wonderful natural light source. I guess we'll just have to go back.

Cars and Stripes

Here we have leg warmers with little cars spewing out cute little clouds of exhaust, a striped onesie and a striped romper.

The romper features a whale blowing a fountain of water flanked by a dog and a hamster, each wearing little hats. Cute, right? It is made by Miki House, one of the biggest children's clothing companies in Japan. Miki House is a bit pricey so I've never shopped there (this is a hand-me-down) but has really cute baby clothes, as well as nice toys, books, and such. It's a good shop for browsing and buying presents for other babies.

I really don't like their children's clothes, however, and if you check out the link above you might see why. Currently it shows two collections, one featuring kids wearing what look like over-sized baby clothes, the other with kids wearing miniature adult clothes, complete with trendy adult hairdos that appear to have taken hours or time and globs of hair products to achieve. There don't appear to be any actual kid's clothes. I despise the current trend of children wearing adult fashions, and kids wearing overly cutesy baby clothes are little better. I think kids should look like kids. You know, overalls and pigtails, shorts and a t-shirt and a bowl cut. No leather biker jackets, cowboy hats and boots, fancy up-dos, high-heels, or skull patterns, please!

The Sands of Time

Through the sands of time...

Come dinosaurs!

This is an on-location Fashion Show episode, and I admit it's more about the place than the clothes. Which of course are awesome (anything with dinosaurs are automatically awesome).

Because this was Shuma's Sandbox Debut: his very first time playing in the sand at our local playground, and also the very first time having any kind of fun at all at said playground (having been underwhelmed on previous visits).

He loved sitting in the sand, he loved running his hands through the sand, and, as most of you have already predicted, he loved eating the sand.

Mother's Day

On Mother's Day Hideaki's family had a lunch in honour of Ah-chan, his maternal grandmother. In attendance were his mother, who flew in from Osaka just for the event, his aunt, his sister Atsuko and her husband, daughter Marya and baby Yuuki.

We met at a restaurant called Tsukiji no Uemura in Mizonokuchi, Kanagawa (near Ah-chan's nursing home) and had a feast. It was tasty, and Shuma had rice in non-okayu (rice porridge) form for the first time and ended up eating nearly half my bowl. But we didn't much pay attention to the food, as this both Ah-chan and my aunt's first time to meet Shuma and Yuuki.

The kids were happy to see each other, and Marya proudly showed off her missing teeth (the picture sadly didn't turn out). I can't believe she's losing her baby teeth already, it seems like she was just born (yes, I realize I'll soon be saying this kind of thing about Shuma, and yes, it totally blows my mind). The babies spent most of the time engaged in hand-to-hand combat.

And Ah-chan was very happy to meet the babies. They loved her right back, and were generally charming and remarkably well-behaved. Ah-chan 94 (I think) and it was pretty incredible to have four generations together, with nearly a century between the eldest and youngest. I hope all four generations can meet up for many more years.

Naughty Boy

To all appearances this seems to be just another cute picture of a very happy baby.

Well, it wouldn't be so cute IF YOU KNEW WHERE HIS HANDS WERE.

Diaper changes have become more challenging.

Best Friends

Here's a cute little outfit featuring two bears. Bears that happen to be best friends.

Lucky bears! I wonder who Shuma's first best friend will be (other than mommy and daddy)?

Mr. Handsome

Today, I will let my t-shirt do the talking. Here, have a closer look:

Just in case you didn't know.

Modesty? I have no idea what that looks like.

Kodomo no Hi

 May 5th was Kodomo no Hi (Children's Day, pronounced "koe-doe-moe no hee"), which is the official name for what really is Boys' Day. Also known as Tango no Sekku and celebrated throughout East Asia, it is an ancient celebration that involves, not surprisingly, decorations and tasty treats. Kodomo no Hi is a national holiday (in contrast with the March 3rd Girls' Day for which there is no day off- make of that what you will) that falls during Golden Week, the string of holidays in late April and Early May.

In the weeks before Kodomo no Hi you'll see koinobori (carp streamers) popping up in farm fields, in front of houses and on apartment balconies. These beautiful wind-catchers were originally flown in battlefields, as carp symbolize strength and courage, and as those were desirable traits for sons to possess they became associated with Tango no Sekku. The basic pattern is a colourful windsock on top, then a large black or dark blue carp representing the father, a smaller red or pink carp representing the mother, and a smaller blue or green carp representing the chonan (first-born son). Any further sons are represented by progressively smaller smaller blue, green and purple carp.

The best koinobori are lovingly hand-painted, metres long, and will put you back hundreds of dollars, but you can also just get a cheap set at the 100 Yen Shop, like I did. Obviously this was the first year I've bought and displayed koinobori, and I would have loved to get a really nice set, but it's not quite in the budget.

Actually what I'd really like to do is send a huge set of koinobori to my family in Canada, as it would surely delight both my father and brother. My dad loves windsocks, flags, wind-catchers, and any kind of doodad that can be hung in our backyard to flap in the wind or sparkle in the sun. Which annoys the hell out of my brother, who in recent years has taken over much of the gardening and outdoor work and also spends a great deal of time in the backyard drinking beer and grilling things. He can't stand any kind of decoration or unnatural presence in the backyard (other than his extensive collection of barbeque equipment, of course) and is constantly taking down my dad's decorations. But if I were to send some really handsome koinobori my dad would be able to indulge his love of colourful outdoor ornaments, and my brother would also be pleased because koinobori are only meant to be hung up for a limited time: week or so after Kodomo no Hi and the carp come down. So I'm saving up for next year.

Here is the little Kodomo no Hi display in our living room, on the shelf above the TV (the most auspicious location in a Japanese home). On the wall is a plaque, below it are two decorations we made at our playgroup (koinobori and a pink kabuto, or helmet), and below that is a collection of snacks sent by my mother-in-law.

Here is a better look at the snacks. Inside the blue koinobori is a pack of arare (rice cracker balls, pronounced "ah-rah-ray"), and inside one pack of snacks are little koinobori-shaped crackers.

An even closer look. On the left is ramune flavoured candy in various wrappings, top right is the arare, and in the middle is what's inside the mini koinobori: a long senbei (rice cracker) and a round senbei with a roasted soybean inside. All yummy and sure to delight any boy, but this year they're for adults only.

Here is a closer look at the plaque. It was made by my mother-in-law, whose hobby is enamel work. Isn't it beautiful? It shows a kabuto, which is the helmet that was worn with Japanese armour. Nowadays kabuto are associated with Boys' Day as they symbolize parents' hope that their boys will grow up to be murderous and bloodthirsty warriors. Or maybe these days it's more about strength, health, courage, etc, but I'm not crazy about the association with war so am a bit relieved that we can't afford to display kabuto.

Kabuto for Boys' Day are child-sized (although not really meant to be worn) and normally displayed together with their storage box, a gold screen, and often such extras as miniature arrows, swords, and even full child-sized suits of armour. Here are some examples. A good set costs thousands of dollars and I have to admit are very cool looking, but it's just not the kind of thing I want my boy celebrating. So I was really happy to receive the enamel plaque above- it is pretty, lovingly made, doesn't take up half the living room to display, and really shows the kabuto as a symbol and nothing more. I also think my mother-in-law is really talented and am glad to have a piece of her art.

There are a few kinds of wagashi (Japanese sweets) that are eaten on Kodomo no Hi, but I was unable to find them (maybe I shopped too late and they were sold out?) so this year I got some treats for us grown-ups at a local cake shop. Strawberry cake for Hideaki, mango mousse for me, and also a little "charity cookie" (lots of shops are doing this: you get a yummy cookie if you give a small donation to the earthquake victims). Next year, when Shuma is old enough for sweets, I will make sure to buy the proper chimaki.

Happy Boys' Day!

Something Fishy

Shuma is ready to have a whale of a time in this fintastic ocean-theamed romper.

Here is a bonus shot, for no particular porpoise other than to let you sea how flexible Shuma is. This is in shark contrast to his mother, who hasn't been able to touch her toes in Ageas.

The Amazing Takemoto Piano Commercial

I want to share my favourite commercial as a special treat to you, my cherished readers. You know, to give something back. It's not a particularly clever commercial, has no amazing visuals or handsome actors or deep message. On the first viewing it's mildly amusing, in that quirky Japanese way, and then it gets old and reveals itself as one of the crappiest, lowest-budget, most annoying commercials even seen on Japanese TV. But it is also the most magical.

That magic has earned the commercial a cult following. It has a certain effect on its younger viewers, you see. Here, let Shuma demonstrate:

That was an example of the effect the commercial has on babies. It can stop a baby crying in seconds flat, and keep him happy for as long as the commercial plays. Sometimes one playing is enough to snap Shuma out of it and permanently stop the crying, but more often it needs to be played a few times, or continuously. It works about 95% of the time, usually quite dramatically, but I don't have the heart to let him get into a crying frenzy purposely so I can capture an amazing reaction to the commercial on camera. So these two mediocre videos will have to do. But trust me, this commercial is magic.

It helps to let the baby watch the commercial, but it's mostly the sound that does it, so I have a playlist on my iPhone that consists of nothing but this commercial. I put it on loop and let it play over and over and over. It will keep the crying at bay for as long as it plays, at least so far- I always tire of it before Shuma does. It seems to work at any age. When Shuma was a newborn various sounds could soothe him (the vacuum cleaner was a favourite), but he outgrew that at around three months. But the Takemoto Piano commercial still works. There are all sorts of videos on YouTube of parents playing certain songs or noises to make their babies cry, but most of them seem to work only for that particular baby. The Takemoto Piano commercial is the only one that works for all babies.

If you live in Kansai (a region in western Japan including Osaka, Kobe and Kyoto) you are probably already familiar with the commercial, as it plays there often. Here in Tokyo we only see it a few times a year, so if you live here and don't watch much TV you might have never seen it. But it shows up once in a while on variety shows, since its effect on babies is so well-known.

Takemoto Piano is a used piano company, and this commercial implores people to sell it their pianos. I have no idea how long it's been running but I first saw it a very long time ago, maybe a decade. And they've never changed it. On purpse, I suspect, since it's so popular with parents of babies. The song, which includes a mnemonic of the company's phone number, is permanently etched into my brain, so if I ever had a piano I wanted to sell I'd know exactly what to do.

So without further ado, here is the commercial:

Note: it should go without saying, but let me point out that this is only meant to stop a baby from crying because he/she is generally grumpy, and only after it has been ascertained that the crying is not due to hunger, a soiled diaper, discomfort, pain, sleepiness, an urgent need for a hug, gas, a bee in the bonnet, or any other fixable reason.