Dream Come True

According to Amazon.com, today is the official publication date of Love You to Pieces.  Reason enough to celebrate, right?

But get this:  Lilia has learned to say “Mama”!

We’ve worked on this for awhile.  For a long time, when she wanted my attention, she called out “Ahhhhhhh.”  And then, after she got her cochlear implant, she called me “baba”.  She could hear the difference, but the “m” sound is really hard for her.  I had her touch my nose while I said “mama” so she could feel the vibrations, and sometimes she could do it, but when she tried too hard, it always came out “baba.”  The other day, she commanded my attention and pronounced “mama”.  She was very proud that she could say it without touching her nose.  I’ve been waiting years for this moment.  No one could have given me a better Mother’s Day gift.

DIY Girl

There are many things that Lilia is capable of, but she can be also be very dependent and lazy and spoiled.  The Japanese have a word for this: amaeru.  In theory and practice, Lilia can crawl to the toilet, grab onto the bar on the wall, and do her business, but she almost always relies on me for transportation.

Yesterday morning she woke up very early.  I heard her calling for me, but I decided to stay put and see what would happen.  I heard her clamber out of bed, crawl to the toilet, and then crawl back to her room.  Then there was some thumping and banging, and then we heard her going downstairs.  Yoshi went to see what she was doing, and then he called me to come look.  She had changed her clothes and was standing against the sink, washing her face!  We were so proud of her.  I wanted to give her a trophy or something.  Sometimes I worry that Lilia will never be able to live independently, but on occasions like this one, I start to believe that it will happen. 

 

Golden Week Report

We are now on the last day of that string of holidays known as Golden Week.  This is the time of year when the highways are clogged with traffic, and every public space is mobbed.  Also, most families have plans to visit relatives or do something fun.  I have been trying to get us through this period without driving too far (gas just went up 25 yen per liter) and without spending too much money.  My husband has had baseball games every day, so we’ve been on our own.

Yesterday, Jio talked me into going to a park an hour from our house.  He told me that the third graders in his class had arranged this outing.  They actually conpsired the week before to get their parents to take them to a science park near here.  We spent six hours in the great outdoors, playing kick ball (also very well organized by the third graders - oh, how smoothly they sorted themselves into teams) and running around, after which I was too exhausted to make dinner. 

Yesterday morning, although it was cloudy, I made sandwiches, loaded all of our gear into the car, and we set out for the park the kids had agreed upon.  Turns out, no one else was there.  It’s a big park, and it was a holiday, but all we saw was a high school kid running laps, and an elderly man on some sort of power walk.  Jio immediately said that he wanted to go home.

I made him play for about two hours.  He skated on his rollerblades, and we hit some balls, and had a picnic, and then we went home.  In the evening, one of the parents called and said that today everyone is going to another park, and that yesterday’s event had been organized by the children without parental approval.

Meanwhile, my mother-in-law believes that someone has stolen her keys. 

 

 

 

 

The End of Innocence

I don’t know what your PTA meetings are like, but mine are so bor-i-n-g.  Yesterday, at the all-day Deaf School PTA extravaganza, the parents were given a twelve page hand-out of budget expenditures, and schedules for this year and last, and then a teacher proceeded to read every last word.  Transparency is great, but do we really need to have all this stuff read to us?

Later, there was a meeting of parents (well, mothers) of just the elementary school students.  One of the key points mentioned was the problem of fushinsha (creepy men).  Apparently, there have been some incidences in the news lately, so we were advised not to let our daughters wear provocative clothing.  Okay, there is one nine-year-old girl who wears short skirts, and on occasion my eight-year old has worn tank tops.  Is that provocative?  Shall we just throw chadors over them right now?

We Are All Fine Here

In case you were wondering, my mother-in-law is all better now and back to hanging out my laundry as if nothing ever happened!

How to Raise a Japanese Hip Hop Star

I recently interviewed Barbara Uemura, motivational speaker and mother of hip hop singer Ai Uemura for the magazine J-Select.  The full interview will appear in the July issue, but here is a little taste:

Ai did not do well academically in Japan.   “But she had so many other wonderful qualities,” her mother enthuses.  “I would encourage and compliment her other qualities, so that she would not have a complex about not doing well in school.  I was strict about saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and to smile and look in a person’s eyes when you greet.  Also, [I encouraged her] to look for good in everyone and get along with anyone, no matter what culture or color they were.  

“When she was 14 years old, she told me she wanted to be a professional singer and my
answer was ‘anything  is possible.  You can do it! But you must work hard at it, focus yourself, believe in yourself and practice every day!’  She said she would, so we bought her a karaoke set for her room.  She really practiced all the time!  I took her to many concerts, night clubs and had her meet  professional singers to give her advice.  She also had many chances to sing and dance in my charity Shows.  She couldn’t get into a high school in Japan, so we sent her to school in Los Angeles.  I surrounded her with positive and talented people. She joined the gospel choir and entered the L.A.  Performing Arts High School.  All the students had goals and dreams and that was a great influence for her.”

 

Woman on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown

That would be me.

The day before yesterday, my mother-in-law handed my husband a letter along with an extensive list of things that she believes I have stolen from her.  The list included various handbags and pieces of clothing, a diamond necklace, an umbrella, and her late husband’s pajamas.  I may have a few pieces of her Tupperware in my kitchen that I forgot to give back, but after seeing the movie “Blood Diamond,” I’d be more inclined to go for cubic zirconica.  And what in the world would I do with my father-in-law’s pajamas?!

I’m inclined to believe that she is suffering from dementia, but her daughter, my sister-in-law says that “it’s her character.”  When I agreed to move in with her three years ago (imagine a gun to my head), I thought she would probably harp about my housekeeping skills, or lack thereof, and the way I raise my children.  I really had no idea it would come to this.

Mark Your Calendar

A couple of weeks ago, I hopped out of bed at 3:30AM so that I could talk on the radio with Andrew Tonkovich, host of Bibliocracy on KFPK about my brand new anthology, Love You to Pieces: Creative Writers on Raising a Child with Special Needs.  Contributors Vicki Forman, who has been my cheerleader for the past three years, and who has just won the Bakeless Prize for Nonfiction, and Michael Berube, author of Life as We Know It, and numerous other important books, are on the show, too.  You can listen live on Monday, April 28, or download the show later at your convenience.   

A Moment to Treasure

The other day, we were watching TV en famille.  There was a scene of Britney Spears getting a tattoo.  I said to Jio, “Don’t you ever get a tattoo.” 

He looked at me as if I were crazy and said, “I won’t.” 

Then I said, “And don’t drive too fast, and don’t go out and get drunk and don’t bring home skanky girls.”

His father added, “And don’t get your ears - or other body parts - pierced.”

Jio said, “I won’t.”

The Ones that are Thrown Out

In honor of National Poetry Month (in the States, at least),  here is a poem that I find myself thinking about quite often, especially recently, after reading Road Map to Holland:

 

The Ones That Are Thrown Out

 

One has flippers.  This one is like a seal.

One has gills.  This one is like a fish.

One has webbed hands, is like a duck.

One has a little tail, is like a pig.

One is like a frog

with no dome at all above the eyes.

 

They call them bad babies.

 

They didn’t mean to be bad

but who does.

 

- Miller Williams, from Distractions, Louisiana University Press, 1979