tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44833803400182725252024-03-12T17:43:52.865-07:00ZenbeiThe meditative American (aka Zen-Bei) ponders life in Seattle after living in small-town Japan.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-83216517545013026542012-11-20T23:34:00.001-08:002012-11-20T23:34:42.219-08:00AbundanceI expect there shall be an abundance of living and blogging in the near future. After moping around for most of this year, we are buying a house next week. The closing date is a moving target because of the holidays, but we will be closing before the 30th.<br />
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I will have an abundance of tasks. A duplex (yes, duplex!) to renovate, two moves to plan, and many, many tasks to complete before we call it home.<br />
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Am I slightly worried that the "busy-ness" of my new tasks will throw me off track? Yes. I have been overwhelmed by trying to find my passion, but having a house means that I will no longer expend hours on house searches. I will no longer screech at my kids to not jump because they will disturb the downstairs neighbor. I'm sure I will screech about other things, but no one will live below us. Yea!<br />
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I've started another blog about the duplex, but I have yet to add any content. I'm waiting until the official close. Yippee!-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-80108576209404645262012-10-18T09:58:00.001-07:002012-10-18T09:58:07.252-07:00Mid-life spiralBoth my boys are now in elementary school. I'm halfway through the month of October and I'm flailing. I had these great expectations that I would get my life and home in order. Here's what I've accomplished:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Reorganized my kitchen</li>
<li>Took part in a research study at the UW and earned $75</li>
<li>Volunteered at the "balloon drop" and "move-a-thon" events at my boys' school</li>
<li>Continued to update the school's web calendar as part of the web team</li>
<li>Went one time to Louisa's to try and write with the writer's group I used to write with </li>
</ul>
And yet, strangely, I am not happy. I desperately want someone to tell me what to do with my life. Do I go back to school and get a teaching certificate, since I really enjoy teaching? Do I try and take up with my writing again? Do I follow my strange addiction to reading arts and crafts and interior design books? <br />
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And let's not even start on the self-help books. I have OD'ed on them. I have tried to do the quizzes and yet I can't get past the "what did your 10 year-old self enjoy" part. My ten year-old self was as fragmented as my 40-something self is. Let's see, she liked roller skating, being the fire-starter at camp-outs, watching the Muppets, reading, writing bad poetry and imagining herself as a teacher of the blind. (I read the book <u>Follow My Leader</u> by James Garfield and wanted to raise guide dog puppies.) I still would like to raise a guide dog puppy. <br />
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I also don't want to work full-time. While I don't enjoy being the whip-cracker for homework and Japanese workbooks, I realize that I'm the only one who will do it. This means I need to be home at 4:00 p.m. so I can do the snack, homework, reading, feeding, bedtime routine. I am also the homekeeper. I do the laundry, the doctor's and orthodontist visits, the grocery shopping, the toilet cleaning, the cooking and the bill paying. In short, I have become my mother. She also had a college degree which she did not use in a professional setting. Instead, she was an Army officer's wife and kept our lives together through the chaos of constant moves. I admire her sacrifice, but I want to leave more of a mark on the world than that. Talk about cognitive dissonance, I want my kids' to have that same stability, but I don't want to be a stay-at-home mom. <br />
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<br />-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-37666136897335378522012-07-06T00:16:00.003-07:002012-07-06T00:16:18.764-07:00Back in Japan (for the moment)The whole family arrived in Japan last week after a trip involving a Metro bus, light rail, an aging 767 with no in-seat entertainment, three express trains and a local train. It is still the rainy season here. Think Seattle, but in the high 70s and lots of humidity. The shoes in Grandma's entrance hall are starting to mildew. <br />
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Both of my kids are enrolled in school. One in third grade at his old elementary. The other in the Fives class at his old daycare. I have more free time than I know what to do with. I should be writing. Instead, I am eating manju and meeting old friends for lunch. I will guest teach next week at the daycare, but other than that I have no real responsibilities. Grandma cooks and cleans. I eat and nag the kids to pick up the legos. Husband is working remotely for half of the time. He mostly eats and works.<br />
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Are you sensing a pattern?<br />
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I need to start taking long walks on the beach to figure out what my life will be like in September. The rain has meant that I have read 3 books on my Kindle. I love the Seattle Public Library and e-book loans. <br />
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My oldest child arrived home from school about 45 minutes ago. He knows that if he is up here in the condo, I will make him do workbooks. He evaded me for 20 minutes before I tracked him down at a friend's. He is outside playing soccer and being a boy. This is what I missed about Japan. In Seattle, there is no way I would let him outside to play without adult supervision. He is much happier being a free-range kid. <br />
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I need to go pick up the little one from daycare in another 20 minutes or so. He has forgotten how to speak Japanese, so every day is a challenge for him. He seems to be doing okay though. The amusing thing is that when I pick him up from daycare, it's like the English language button gets pushed. He starts talking ten miles a minute and telling me who all the bad kids are in his daycare. (If you want to know, it's mostly Kazuki-kun, the same boy who used to be a trouble-maker a year and a half ago.) <br />-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-83870610660933300342012-03-07T19:50:00.002-08:002012-03-07T20:02:20.065-08:00Random thoughts on Seattle driversI saw a woman driving her car today with not one, but two, poodles in her lap. Okay, maybe they were some other fluffy white dog, but still, she was driving while distracted. At least she wasn't on the highway.<br /><br />I was behind a man in a Buick on the highway yesterday. I assumed he was a grandpa driver who was looking through the steering wheel to drive since his head was barely visible from behind. He was going slowly for the interstate. I passed him and realized that he was someone chilling to the rap music with his seat all the way back and extremely reclined. And yes, I could hear the music as I passed.<br /><br />As someone who usually has one or the other child in my microvan, I am paranoid about folks who take driving so casually. I don't want you to be texting, talking, grooming or bonding with your pet when you are driving near me. <br /><br />Having said that, I have built in Bluetooth and it has gotten a work-out in the last few months. I have had multiple phone conversations with our real estate agent whilst driving my children to various activities. I know research shows that hands-free does not equal distraction-free. The ironic thing is that I often make my kids observe radio silence while I am trying to park or navigate some weird lane confluence that the Seattle DOT has come up with. Hypocritical much?<br /><br />And completely unrelated to all this: it was a beautiful winter day in Seattle today.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-78081777375611558362012-03-02T12:57:00.003-08:002012-03-02T13:12:30.307-08:00I don't even want to write...I keep thinking that if I write, I will make progress on something. I need a victory in my life. I need something to pull me out of the slump I am in.<br /><br />I had a birthday earlier this week. It was a non-event. Really. The 8 year-old gave me an eraser. My sister took me out to lunch the next day. I scheduled a raincheck lunch with a friend.<br /><br />Our house purchase was supposed to close the day after. It was an event that did not occur.<br /><br />I am supposed to be organized for a move that should happen any day. I am not.<br /><br />Our interest rate lock for our mortgage expires on Monday. We will owe more money after we close. I am numb to this, but the spouse is angry. <br /><br />I am reading too many parenting books again. I have more on reserve at the library. My husband who does not read parenting books undoes all the parenting I do with his lack of patience. <br /><br />The five year old still needs to be evaluated for speech therapy. I finally got a call about it. I have yet to receive the paperwork to fill out before he can be evaluated.<br /><br />I am still behind in my duties as the treasurer for our co-op preschool. We are in the black, so I am not putting the school at risk. <br /><br />My husband got a bonus and a "good job" gift certificate from work this week. He offered the gift certificate to me. It is not the same. I want someone to appreciate me. Screw enlightenment, I don't want inner peace and fulfillment, I want a Target gift card for doing all the mundane tasks that no one ever thanks me for. <br /><br />I make coffee every morning. I pour myself and DH a cup every morning. Today, DH poured his own cup knowing it was the first cup of the carafe and didn't even bother to think I might want one too. Really? He had the grace to apologize when I asked him if he needed another cup of coffee as I poured my first. I think this incident just served to underline the fact that no one in my family notices me or my needs. <br /><br />I don't even know what my needs are anymore. I've gotten really good at suppressing them. I think I will now drown my petty problems in chocolate.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-56353656006449236302012-02-11T22:33:00.001-08:002012-02-11T22:48:27.313-08:00One year later...It's been a year. A year since I've had a paying job. A year since I got off a plane in rainy Seattle with two tired boys in tow. A year since I walked into Trader Joe's behind our rental condo and was shocked at how tall and white everyone was. <br /><br />And a year later, I miss not working. I volunteer at the YMCA. I work my parent hours for my 5 year old's co-op preschool. But I don't get paid. I hate not being paid. Money gave me validation that "thank-you" and "see you next week" do not.<br /><br />And a year later, my boys are bigger, but are not any less challenging. The 5 year old needs to be evaluated for speech therapy. I just thought he couldn't enunciate clearly because he didn't speak English until last year. But after his pediatrician and his preschool teacher both thought he needed help, I have started making phone calls. In the meantime, he solves his communication problems with his fists and by willful disobedience. I spend my evenings reading more parenting texts. <br /><br />And a year later, we are still in the condo, but hoping to close on a house on 2/28. The builder wants to push the date out, but doing so may cost us not only money, but a chance to get DS2 into the same elementary school as his brother. So we are keeping the pressure on to make that date. <br /><br />And a year later, I still get hormonal and weepy. I hate being a woman if it means my hormones turn me into a sobbing mess. Yesterday was the worst, and yet, I couldn't tell you why it was any different from other days. DS2 and I had been in a pissing match in the morning, which isn't unusual. I dropped him off at preschool, for my 2.5 hours of free time. And I promptly fell apart. I tried chocolate. I tried a nap. I tried music. But all I did was weep and berate myself for my inability to get anything done. It was not a good day, but like a toddler after a temper tantrum, I fell asleep really fast last night. <br /><br />I have more I need to write, but I will save it for a different post.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-14237198710291938402011-12-28T18:09:00.000-08:002011-12-28T18:21:18.984-08:00Word of the YearI'm looking back at 2011 and I realized that I never posted my 2011 word of the year. It was Big. Yup, pretty uninspired, but at the time I was looking at big changes in my life. I was living with my MIL, giving up my jobs and life in Japan and starting again in Seattle. I thought Big would do it for me. I have not really heeded my word this year. I have lived small. And not in a good way.<br /><br />So, 2012 awaits and I'm already thinking about this year's word. Right now it is a toss-up between make-up and re-make. Make-up was the strong leader until about an hour ago when I started washing rice and drinking mimosas. Re-make seemed better when served with orange juice.<br /><br />Here's the logic. With make-up, I was thinking "make-up stories, make-up for lost time, make-up with folks I might be not exactly estranged from, but needing to touch base with." We are moving into a new home in two months and make-up seems we should be "Making things move up." Especially since we can move out of the rental condo and make our new house our home. <br /><br />So why did re-make sneak in there? There is this part of me that doesn't like the fact that make up can also be cosmetics. Let's face it, I'm a minimal or none cosmetic kind of gal. Make up annoys me. <br /><br />So, for that very reason, MAKE-UP is my word of the year. It embodies all the ideas I want to embrace and it also hones in on one of my vulnerabilities, my insecurities about my appearance. If something bugs me that much, I probably need to take a look at it.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-50695712788742708572011-11-16T18:28:00.000-08:002011-11-16T18:44:23.838-08:00Spiced RumI hit <a href="http://www.hmart.com/">H Mart</a> in Lynnwood today to stock up on Asian groceries. I scored gobo and kimchee and even Korean sushi, but I couldn't find any long onions or konnyaku (devil's tongue). I'm making buta jiru on Friday, so I will have to make another trip elsewhere to find those things. At least I don't have to drive 3 hours to get to a foreign food superstore, so I can't complain too much.<br /><br />And what does any of this have to do with spiced rum? Nothing at all. But dinner will be a combination of bi bim bap (from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namul">namul</a> I bought at H Mart) and Korean sushi, so I don't need to be on my game to cook it. <br /><br />DS1's homework is done. (Well, all but Benesse, but I just didn't feel like cracking the whip on that today.) DS2 has had mental stimulation in a non-video format for most of the day. It was happy hour, but I'm out of cheap, decent Chardonnay, so I raided the liquor cabinet and since I only own gin or rum, I googled hot rum drinks. I settled on hot buttered rum. I am slowly imbibing whilst the boys are making books at the dinner table. To give you an idea of how slowly I am imbibing, I had to microwave my drink ten seconds since it was lukewarm buttered rum at one point. Of course, our rental condo is 18 celsius at the moment since I am too cheap to run the electric heaters and too lazy to change the thermometer to Fahrenheit on my pencil<br />stand. <br /><br />And all this talk of rum makes me thinks of pirates and Japanese <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Piece">animated ones</a>.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-3380996182452364052011-11-03T09:36:00.000-07:002011-11-03T09:58:21.381-07:00This Beautiful Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCQWI5tu1TMbdGn6M89eymG1h6oofIeTvGZ-iTyQ65-Kl55sxhft7Zi94z72AQLUS6ptsUKu2LEIOBMGXCz7AJySQSIjBlrQTvSi2YamI1-_9jZaGQtc3e0IDgxTl2kH1vgKoGiCj6aR4/s1600/index.aspx.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCQWI5tu1TMbdGn6M89eymG1h6oofIeTvGZ-iTyQ65-Kl55sxhft7Zi94z72AQLUS6ptsUKu2LEIOBMGXCz7AJySQSIjBlrQTvSi2YamI1-_9jZaGQtc3e0IDgxTl2kH1vgKoGiCj6aR4/s200/index.aspx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670814923667370626" border="0" /></a><br />I just finished reading <u>This Beautiful Life</u> by Helen Schulman last night. I'd had it on reserve at the library since reading about it in some random magazine found in some random doctor's office. I was impressed.<br /><br />I expected it to be high drama and the unraveling of an American family. Yes, there was an event that causes everything to unwind, but Schulman paints a realistic portrait of a family that loves each other, but can't figure out how to pull it together.<br /><br />The mom in the story resonated with me. She's well educated, but gives that up to stay home with her kids. My favorite line, early in the book on page 11 after she gets her kids off to school is "...Liz took one look at her messy home and was overwhelmed by how much there was to do and how little she wanted to do it. Finding that first step into an amorphous day, a day without bones, was always the hardest."<br /><br />My boneless day started several hours ago and so far I've started laundry, disposed of a rotting pumpkin, emptied the recycling, put futons away and made our bed. I've wanted to do none of that, but since yesterday I nursed my cold and read a book, I felt I owed it to myself and everyone else to try harder today.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-47665060736020113132011-11-02T09:21:00.000-07:002011-11-02T09:45:05.819-07:00Hope<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbFlqMWp-nV0SEaxkV3ZS5uLFH0vY1vU2icHhS-FXKFiOAT6TuAVL4qutxasp03UBIG3pU8e1bhJNXWctA1Q0LsHikL095AAq65cd0a_FKBg70s_dLnTibbek5Xdu6ggc2Jq35L2XC2cZ/s1600/photo%25281%2529.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbFlqMWp-nV0SEaxkV3ZS5uLFH0vY1vU2icHhS-FXKFiOAT6TuAVL4qutxasp03UBIG3pU8e1bhJNXWctA1Q0LsHikL095AAq65cd0a_FKBg70s_dLnTibbek5Xdu6ggc2Jq35L2XC2cZ/s200/photo%25281%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670439249762455618" border="0" /></a><br />One of my favorite movies is The Shawshank Redemption. The tagline for that movie is, "Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free." I haven't been very hopeful lately.<br /><br />I went to a Women's Wellness Weekend on Orcas Island about 10 days ago. I thought it would help me sort some things out. Instead, I did crafts all weekend and rode the giant swing and the zipline. It was good, but it didn't necessarily give me the dramatic prison break that I was hoping for.<br /><br />I did win $5 in camp bucks at bingo. I used them to buy lanyard lace for my boys and a cheaply made bracelet with a "Hope" affirmation on a silver-toned token. I've been wearing it daily and every time I see it, I send out a little karmic energy that we will find a house soon.<br /><br />I know there is a house for us (or a small lot upon which we could build.) I am tired of living in the rental condo. I'm tired of the thumping bass of the person who lives beneath us. I am tired of the students who live across the street and party until all hours of the morning on Saturday night. I am tired of unpacked boxes stacked in our closet, waiting for a "permanent" home. I'm tired of the messy impermanence of it all.<br /><br />I have hope, or at least a hope bracelet. Too bad it's not the Hope Diamond, or I wouldn't be worried about how much money we will have to spend to buy a house. Oh well.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-10756204372630188732011-10-09T22:57:00.000-07:002011-10-09T23:09:18.351-07:00Lick bombJust to prove that I can blog about something other than my own angst, I give you "lick bomb." <br /><br />DS2, who had his 5th birthday last week, also had his check-up on Monday. His pediatrician was a little concerned about his speech and offered to write a referral to a speech and language specialist. I just assumed that my youngest talked like Elmer Fudd since he spoke only Japanese until February. Let's face it, people don't make "lice" and "rice" jokes for no reason.<br /><br />I am working on getting him to say his Rs, but sometimes his speech is just hard to grasp. His preschool teacher has also commented on how hard it is to understand him sometimes. And so we come to "lick bomb."<br /><br />Big brother is having orthodontic treatment to fix his crowded jaw and his underbite. He has a rash from his headgear and I have been trying to use lip balm to keep it under control. Tonight, Elmer wanted some lick bomb like his brother. I had to laugh because his speech gaffe had nothing to do with Rs, and everything to do with not knowing the right words. Of course he knows the word "lick" and since he is a boy, he definitely knows about "bombs." <br /><br />Lick bomb may be my new favorite phrase. But we still will be working on those wascally wabbits.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-28342527693409114552011-09-19T08:45:00.000-07:002011-09-19T09:02:53.083-07:00A Dearth of WordsIt is truly pathetic, that I, who wanted to be a writer has not even managed to blog in 3 months. So here's the bullet list:<br /><ul><li>I survived the constant bickering, fighting, visiting playgrounds, taking swim lessons, and avoiding drug dealers and panhandlers that were our summer.</li><li>My oldest started 2nd grade and is way ahead in math and way behind in English. The English language summer workbook I bought him was barely touched. The Japanese workbooks did get done, but under much duress.<br /></li><li>My youngest started co-op preschool last week. The economy has meant that we are under-enrolled and are scrambling to find kids to keep the program viable. Did I mention I am the treasurer?</li><li>Still no house. We made an offer on an 83 year-old one and backed out when two separate professionals told us to "scrape it off the lot and build a new one." We opted to place an offer on a new house, not in our preferred location, but a nice neighborhood nonetheless. Our offer was lower than another person's and we did not get the house. We are still living in the rental condo. I am still trolling the MLS listings.</li><li>My husband spent most of the summer telecommuting from our condo since he hurt his back and couldn't sit or walk for six weeks. Nothing like having to keep your children out all day so Daddy can work lying down on our bed with his laptop propped up off the floor. <br /></li></ul>Still trying to find the joy in our lives. It is there. In small boy hugs and art projects. In ice cream cones and caprese salads. In skype and on the phone. It just seems like such a small percentage of the hours in a day.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-39411936965276607142011-06-27T23:08:00.000-07:002011-06-28T10:45:56.927-07:00Radio silenceEnd of June. I want to say everything is better. It is, and it isn't. My oldest is out for the summer and I enrolled both boys in swim lessons every morning for the next two weeks, at least.<br /><br />The groove I had gotten into has been wrecked. I was working out two mornings a week and volunteering one morning a week at the local Y. Now I'm schlepping the boys and getting less toned by the moment. (Is that even possible?)<br /><br />I'm still browbeating my oldest into doing Japanese workbooks almost every day. I still have an exchange student coming once a week to work with both of them. I'm still putting way too many books on reserve at the library, like some kind of bibliophile junky. I know I won't read them, but like a piece of bread given to a starving orphan for nighttime reassurance, I keep a pile of books nearby.<br /><br />I'm out of dinner ideas. I've cooked all of the dishes I missed while living in Japan. I'm still waiting for a house so I can buy a grill.<br /><br />And the house, if it's a buyer's market, I sure haven't noticed. I looked at a craftsman that was used as a boarding house in our desired neighborhood. It needed lots of work and was still 479K. It sold that night. I spend my free time trolling the MLS listings and ignoring my cluttered and crappy rental condo.<br /><br />And I'm reading books on happiness. I'm working on that too.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-64480468787303476552011-04-01T11:13:00.001-07:002011-04-01T11:28:11.358-07:00AprilI have another 30 minutes before I go to pick DS2 up from the one morning away from me he has during the week. It is my sole child-free time on a weekday. I came home and picked up and started laundry and vacuumed and avoided doing my taxes. <br /><br />I read an article online about parents at an elementary school in Ishinomaki who lost their children. Only 24 of the students at that school survived the tsunami. I cried. Not really a productive use of my time. I'm not even sure it will make me be a more patient mother with my own two boys. But I needed to know someone's problems are way more tragic than my petty ones.<br /><br />It is April and I'm still floundering. I'm looking at teaching certificate programs online. I'm bickering with my husband about finding a house. I'm enrolling my child in a preschool 80 blocks north of here from September, because that's as good as it's going to get. I'm avoiding <a href="http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/">Script Frenzy </a>since I know I will not be writing anything.<br /><br />And yet, I know at some point, I will need to start celebrating the things I am doing. I got DS2's hernia surgery taken care of. I finally went to the doctor's office. I signed up for the Y so that DS2 and I can have a place to play and work out in the mornings. I emailed a friend with a University connection to try and get an exchange student to come over once a week and tutor my boys in Japanese in return for English lessons from me.<br /><br />And I'm resenting not having an income. I don't like to be beholden to my husband. He would never begrudge me something I truly want. We consult each other on all the big things. But I miss not having mad cash that allowed me to pay for weekend trips to the noodle shop or the ice cream stand. I liked having a rainy day fund. Most of which we used to pay for expenses when DH was out of work for 5 months. <br /><br />I will get there eventually. And I will start my taxes some other time, but before the 15th.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-1289546721355847272011-03-04T23:30:00.002-08:002011-03-04T23:47:51.671-08:00A beginning, really?A month later and I really don't feel like I've begun anything. Okay, I did get DS1 enrolled in school which I am now agonizing over, since it seems way too easy. I did get DS2 to the doctor to look at the hernia which I've been ignoring for the past four months. Surgery is scheduled for March 22nd. But the rest of my life seems like just so much crap.<br /><br />I can't get DS2 enrolled in any kind of regular preschool and he's acting out. It's the f--king fours, redux. I took him to a home-run Japanese preschool class today and he tried to escape for the first 30 minutes of it. I'll enroll him in it, but four Friday mornings a month costs me almost one third of what I was paying for full-time daycare in Japan and that included lunch. And the sad thing is, he wants to go. He keeps asking me when he'll start hoikuen again. All of the trips to the library and the supermarket don't replace being with your peers and having lots of fun activities to do. I suck at the whole home-schooling thing.<br /><br />I'm hating the gurgling toilet in our over-priced rental condo. I'm hating the rain, the endless horrible rain. I'm hating the too tight parking space that makes me fear taking off the side mirror on a concrete column. I'm hating the moving boxes that are still stacked in the hall. I'm hating the chick on Craigslist who sold us an Ikea bunk bed that is missing the clamps to hold the ladder in place, and no, I couldn't get them from Ikea, I tried. She won't return my emails or calls. <br /><br />I hate all of this right now. I knew this would happen, but no matter how much I try to blow sunshine, I really just want to bury my head in my hands and cry. I had a life. A flawed life, but a life. And now I have to go through the work to put a life together again. Yes, I didn't have to get a driver's license or open a bank account. We still had those things. Yes, I have a sister who listens to me and invites me over for wine. Yes, I have a partial life. It's a life and I need to live this life and stop being pissed off that I don't have the other one anymore. I'm working on that too.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-27389087562640268312011-02-04T04:28:00.002-08:002011-02-04T04:45:57.229-08:00iyo iyo saigo...The end is here at last... (That's what the title means.) Today, DS1 said good-bye to his first grade classmates and I picked him up from school. His teacher gave him a kanji dictionary and I gave her a pound cake and cookies from the local pastry shop. <br /><br />DS2 had his last real day of daycare. His teacher gave him minicars, a Pokemon DVD and stickers. I gave her gift certificates. I gave all the staff and teachers at his daycare rice crackers and cookies. I'm getting pretty good at obligatory gifts. <br /><br />Tomorrow is happyokai, or performing arts assembly. My last one. Funny how three years ago, I dreaded it. Two years ago, DS1 was sick and I rejoiced at not having to be packed like a sardine into a tiny room to hear 5 year olds sing and watch them dance. Last year, I was nostalgic. DS1 was in his last year of hoikuen and danced and drummed and sang. DS2 danced with other three year olds. This year, I am weepy. Of all this is coming to an end. <br /><br />I have been out to lunch or dinner multiple times this week. I am tired, strung out, and ready to burst into tears every time someone says good-bye to me. I'm still getting rid of stuff, packing bags and wondering how everything will play out on Monday. <br /><br />It is the end and I'm sad. And telling me I should be happy that I'm going back to my home country doesn't actually make me less sad. And platitudes about "one door closing and another one opening" don't actually help with the sadness either. <br /><br />I'll blog from the other side when it's "iyo iyo hajimaru." (At last, it begins.)-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-84376342567785973192011-01-10T04:37:00.003-08:002011-01-10T04:55:06.760-08:00Three weeks later, four to go...So, it's three weeks after the movers came and four weeks before we get on a plane to Seattle. I'm sitting on my futon in the middle of my mother-in-law's living room. These past three weeks have been tiring. I did Christmas. I did New Year's. I've had two sick kids on my hands, one week apart. I still have boxes of stuff that I'm getting rid of.<br /><br />The oldest finally goes back to school tomorrow after winter break. I start work again tomorrow and for the next 3 weeks. I have one foot in two worlds. My husband google chats us everyday after work. He is lonely and not enjoying being single in the condo we have rented in Seattle. I want to be there with him, but I don't want to give up my job and life here. But right now I have half-a-life. I don't have my own kitchen, or computer, or even a room.<br /><br />I'm stuck in grass-greener mode. My own space and life in Seattle seem greener, but I know I will be hating my return to full-time SAHM status. I will want my life in Japan back. I will suffer from reverse culture shock. I will struggle to find my voice and purpose again. And I will blog about it all, but very infrequently.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-12454915077718333872010-12-20T03:04:00.003-08:002010-12-20T03:15:03.308-08:00two beers later.Can we say "Day from hell?" I was up before 6, which is unusual for me. The movers got here at 9 a.m. They were actually here at 8:50, but being the polite Japanese that they are, they waited until exactly 9 a.m. before ringing the bell.<br /><br />A friend helped me from 9 to 12. She deserves a steak dinner, but that's another story. We finished sorting out all the crap near my desk and putting away the stuff that the movers weren't taking care of.<br /><br />The biggest shock was that the movers wanted to finish in one day. I really didn't want to shut down my computer and say good-bye to my desk. I felt weepy when I put my iMac into its fashion forward industrial design box. The movers swooped in with 5 folks (6 later) and proceeded to pack our lives into 127 boxes. If this sounds like a lot, remember that 6 of those were chairs, 2 of those were desk and parts, and only a measly 7 were boxes of books.<br /><br />They finished at 6:15 and left me with homework: 127 box descriptions to assign a yen value to. I promptly drank a beer and then I had another one, since this was a two beer kind of day. I will finish this blog and Grandma will bathe the kids and I will get them to bed. After that, I will ignore the remaining mess in my condo and finish the evil paperwork. And then, I will figure out where the hell I'm sleeping since my boys have bunk beds at Grandma's, but I have nothing.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-56398882737054229252010-12-16T05:13:00.002-08:002010-12-16T05:24:48.033-08:00The opposite of white space...My word of the year has been white space. Yes, I know that's two words. <br /><br />I am currently living in the opposite of white space. If I was motivated, I would take a picture of the pit of despair that is my home. The movers come next Monday. This week, I have helped remove from my condo: a washing machine, a bookshelf, an oven, a sofa, bunk beds, a home theater system, boxes of books, dishes, clothes and toys. And yet, strangely, my home still has waaaaaay too much crap in it. <br /><br />I am plugging away at it, but honestly, I think the packers are going to come on Monday and take a look at my condo and do a lot of teeth sucking. They are going to blink and in that polite, indirect Japanese way ask me if there is someplace that they can work. <br /><br />The ironic thing in all this is that 3 years ago yesterday, we moved into this place. And shortly thereafter, got our big shipment of stuff out of storage. I feel like someone hit the rewind switch and instead of unpacking, my life is going in reverse and I'm walking backwards and putting the stuff back in the boxes. <br /><br />Which might also explain the lack of brain cells going on. This week alone, I have managed to forget my child's backpack, leave my purse in the car overnight, and walk off without teaching materials on several occasions. Obviously, my cranial rewind is causing data loss. <br /><br />White space, black hole. Yin and yang?-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-31191777839461488462010-12-05T01:44:00.002-08:002010-12-05T02:04:34.190-08:00GratitudeI am not feeling grateful these days. No, indeed. My husband moved to the U.S. last week and I am facing an international move with a 4yo and a 7yo.<br /><br />So in an effort to not turn this into a rambling, hate-my-life blog entry, I offer up the following things I am grateful for:<br /><br />1) Being invited to the end of year party for the teachers at my son's daycare. I teach English there once a month and when I told them we are moving in February, the head of the school invited me. It was lovely going out, drinking and getting a beautiful frame with photos of me and my boys' time at the daycare. <br /><br />2) Receiving multiple offers of help from the moms I know. One mom is coming over to help me sort out my kitchen and bedrooms before the international movers get here on 12/20. She even offered to take all my give-aways and trash so I wouldn't have to deal with it.<br /><br />3) Living next door to my MIL. Today I was sleep deprived and in a foul mood. She offered to take both boys so I could take a nap. She also made dinner tonight. We will be living with her from 12/20 until we get on a plane in February. I am grateful for that.<br /><br />4) Finding a buyer for our condo. This one I have a harder time with. We lost a lot on the sale of our condo. We are upside down on our mortgage and will have to pay out of pocket on 12/24 when we sell our place. But I am grateful that we have savings in the U.S. and my husband has a new job. It is only money. (Repeat, until I believe.)<br /><br />5) Having a sister in Seattle. She is letting my husband live in their basement until he gets an apartment figured out sometime this week. She also picked him at the airport. Him, and his enormous duffel and bicycle box.<br /><br />6) Having a husband with a job. I may have not been ready to leave Japan, but ultimately, my husband needed to move to somewhere with decent IT jobs. He starts his new job on Monday and is excited to be back in the world of software development.<br /><br />7) Having a husband who has deal with all the relocation crap on that end, even if I'm stuck with the crap on this end. He has been apartment hunting, car hunting and is still jet-lagged. <br /><br />I have much to be grateful for. I just need someone to keep telling me this. The soundtrack of my brain keeps playing the wrong tune. I need a new anthem.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-6899322979740085952010-10-09T05:28:00.002-07:002010-10-09T05:41:04.815-07:00Zero to Angry in 10 seconds.This is one of those self-flagellation blog entries. The husband is off to America to look for work. He is eating pizza, shopping at the Apple store and Nordstrom Rack, and going out to lunch with former co-workers. I am happy for, and envious of, him.<br /><br />Today was the start of a 3 day weekend. I had visions of baking cookies, going to a festival, and doing some beach-combing. Instead, my boys and I went to the video store, the grocery store and Mister Donuts. Sometimes I really dislike being a mom to boys. I tried to get them interested in making cookies, but instead they decided to beat each other up with plastic bats.<br /><br />I made a conscious effort to let them have some sensory fun. I have an old container of stale coffee beans that I was going to throw out. I let them play with it on the dining room floor, with the only rules being that they contain the beans to the dining room and help clean up the mess afterward. Forty minutes later, I'm yelling at them because they are crushing beans into a fine powder, taking "showers" with the beans and getting them under the couch, in the tatami room, and under the floorcloth in the dining room. Much nagging later, the beans were picked up and the room vacuumed, but I felt like a failure in the "spontaneous fun" mothering contest.<br /><br />As the day progressed, more whining and fighting ensued. My 4yo is going through some phase where everything ends in tears. We only watched one video, "Wahhhh!" Big brother touched his balloon, "Wahhhhhhhhh." I didn't get milk with dinner, "Wahhhhhhh!" I'm seriously tempted to wear headphones to drown out the constant noise of his disappointment. <br /><br />By the time the boys went to bed, I had already threatened, yelled, ranted, steamed and pouted at both of them, multiple times. Not an effective style of parenting. I know the stress of my own life is manifesting itself this way, but I can't seem to stop. Hence, zero to angry in 10 seconds.<br /><br />Now I'm going to watch a mindless movie and ignore the dishes in my sink.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-325361707564744872010-09-30T04:28:00.002-07:002010-09-30T04:35:33.402-07:00Perfect protest<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeeVAFVa5sacGJ59nWguDy8hE8CDVrf6-RO_TtCwbUkI6junm-e228IMDVVLhG7J0DwJps_qioq3Dv5lFbHYo6pRsDmG_4x70nFQVWH4vGYtBpU5xFyLlhtBIwpqX_hywaQYBy4ns29gN/s1600/Photo+on+2010-09-30+at+07.47.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeeVAFVa5sacGJ59nWguDy8hE8CDVrf6-RO_TtCwbUkI6junm-e228IMDVVLhG7J0DwJps_qioq3Dv5lFbHYo6pRsDmG_4x70nFQVWH4vGYtBpU5xFyLlhtBIwpqX_hywaQYBy4ns29gN/s200/Photo+on+2010-09-30+at+07.47.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522668591338634130" border="0" /></a><br />Brene Brown's <a href="http://www.ordinarycourage.com/my-blog/2010/9/26/the-perfect-protest.html">blog</a> this week is about protesting perfectionism. I'm posting a photo of myself, something which I hate to do. The photo is of me at 7:47 this morning with a hastily made poster written in crayon-pastels. The image is reversed because I took it with photo booth and I'm too much of an imperfectionist to reverse the image.<br /><br />Long live imperfectionism. (And if you can't read my poster, it says "Perfect is the enemy of good.")-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-9714156303508876142010-09-24T04:29:00.003-07:002010-09-26T23:10:21.628-07:00The sound of silenceThis is a quick post because I realized I haven't posted anything in over a month. My life and problems are both tiny and immense. I wish both to splash them across the blogosphere and hide them simultaneously.<br /><br />The husband quit his job (see profile about "karoshi") and now we are living on our savings. I am shockingly not panicking about this. We've been without his income since July and my income doesn't even come close to paying our monthly expenses. We will be completely broke on this side of the pond by December.<br /><br />So, DH is off to the U.S. to line up job interviews and a job. Our lives are in limbo. We're talking to a real estate agent about selling our condo, at a big loss, oh well. I'm trying to figure out the timing on all of this. Which is laughable since everything hinges on my husband getting a job. <br /><br />Shanti, shanti, shanti. Peace, peace, peace. (As my former yoga teacher used to say.)-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-78303698426663472022010-07-31T20:12:00.002-07:002010-07-31T20:25:39.400-07:00Nothing in particular.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAb-c46xE2NyaPd9zbJu8qOG9U8fqfxdqorS0W28lgl9zmsNqcuJV2DwdI8eE3eYrXMIqYgydj3OJtWSZjkYzWcTIhP_MBDJf6wI8TZx82iilnGVed7Khh6I-alyhZDjnzJxim44CUwPwp/s1600/fireworks.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAb-c46xE2NyaPd9zbJu8qOG9U8fqfxdqorS0W28lgl9zmsNqcuJV2DwdI8eE3eYrXMIqYgydj3OJtWSZjkYzWcTIhP_MBDJf6wI8TZx82iilnGVed7Khh6I-alyhZDjnzJxim44CUwPwp/s200/fireworks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500277368636207554" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday was DS1's 7th birthday. We barbecued some steaks and chicken. I made chicken ramen coleslaw. Dessert was an overpriced <a href="http://www.31ice.co.jp/contents/product/icecreamcake/ic017.html">ice cream cake</a> from Baskin Robbins (aka "Thirty-One" if you live in Japan.)<br /><br />It also was the annual day for the Hikari Fireworks display. This year it was a week early. We shoveled down our cake and went out on our 5th floor balcony to watch the show. The birthday boy got bored early and went inside with Daddy to play Wii Party, his birthday present from Grandma and the great aunts. DS2 soon followed. I was left with Grandma and her sisters out on the balcony. We oo'ed and aahed and sweated in the heat and humidity.<br /><br />Not bad for a Saturday in July.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4483380340018272525.post-41629894941288211112010-07-16T19:36:00.005-07:002010-07-16T20:05:17.804-07:00Almost summer vacationDS1 came home from school yesterday with his usual <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randoseru">randoseru</a> (randsel or school backpack) filled with papers and crap. It was the second-to-last day before summer vacation and so lots of it was regarding the summer break. Here's a laundry list of what I found:<br /><br />1. An envelope with all of the required assignments during the 5 week break, including: <ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Summer 16, a 32 page workbook with Japanese and math exercises.</li><li>Diary sheets for 3 days worth of "what I did on my summer vacation" (hmmm, maybe a boatload of homework?)</li><li>Two 200 character writing sheets for essays about books or science projects he does.</li><li>A "free research" project. During the "long" vacation he has to make something to display.</li><li>Take care of his morning glory plant that we forgot to bring home this week. Oops.</li><li>Do his "normal review" tasks including mandatory reading, writing, addition and subtraction flashcards.</li></ul>2. A paper titled "Fun Summer Vacation" which lists everything he SHOULDN'T do. It also tells him to get up early, help out around the house and do his homework promptly.<br /><br />3. Pool schedule for the elementary school. Parent or guardian must watch their child, since no lifeguard is on duty.<br /><br />4. Contest list. Since you already have to write essays and do projects, why not enter them in one of 8 contests available to elementary school children? My personal favorite is the "internationalization" one. Maybe he should write an essay about how American kids go to camp and goof off all summer.<br /><br />5. And my personal favorite, the <a href="http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nn20090722i1.html">"radio exercise"</a> card. He's supposed to go the community center everyday at 6:30 a.m. to exercise for 15 minutes. He gets a stamp on his card. Bwa ha ha ha! That ain't gonna happen. <br /><br />Secretly, my geeky side likes all the homework he has to do. I really want him to enter all the contests even if he has to write 4 essays and draw 4 posters. Besides, DS2 is in daycare all day, so he'll have lots of free time to do them. Ooh. Now I think I'm turning Japanese, except for the waking up early and exercising part.-alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11705878140423848160noreply@blogger.com0