Seriously?

This is how my six year old spends her free time, designing shoes. Sometimes they are cute, like this:

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Other times, I get a bit worried:

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Seriously, where would she even wear those?

Real Bentos of Yokohama

Well, it’s official. Tomorrow, preschool goes to mornings only until the last day on Friday. So I am OFF daily bento duty. For the next three years, until Me First needs to take his lunch to junior high. I’m planning to let him make that himself, but I guess we shall see.

There will still be occasional bento for field trips, sports days, etc., but it won’t be a daily grind thing anymore.

Anyway, I took pictures of the last few days’ worth to share with you all what a real, everyday bento looks like. I know lots of people (including me,) tend to only share when they’ve done something special. But these are in chronological order, some better than others.

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So, this day I overslept. Oops. Me Too got some chahan(fried rice,) and whatever else I could find in the fridge.

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This day was a little better.

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Me Too was supposed to go one field trip this day, so she asked for a sandwich. The trip got cancelled due to rain, but at least she finished her lunch.

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I’m not one who is really into the whole cutesy bento thing, though it seems like lots of people are, but this one was for Girls Day. It was a surprise, and she said she enjoyed it.

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Girls Day leftovers (nothing raw in this chirashi zushi, don’t worry!) And the chicken nuggets that we can’t seem to get through.

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The black seaweed stuff is from the frozen section. One of Me Too’s favorites. I made the rabbit bunnies using a cookie cutter type thing for…making sausage bunnies. The rice is mixed with salmon flakes and spinach. Squeezing in veggies when I can!

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Last but not least, heart shaped rice balls, more of those damn chicken nuggets, and some veg. The “candy cheese” is great for filling in those awkward corners.

Sea?

A couple of weeks ago, Me First had a random day off school. I’d planned to let Sister play hookie and take the kids to Tokyo Disneyland, but Me Too got the flu so we weren’t able to go.

She’s been nagging me about it ever since.

HRH had to work on Sunday, so I grudgingly agreed to take her then.

I’m not exactly sure why I prefer to go solo. Maybe it’s because HRH is a big planner and has a timetable he wants to adhere to, and I find that stressful. I just kind of like to go where the wind takes us. If we only ride a few things and miss some shows, I don’t care.

Some people may find that to be a personality flaw, I suppose.

But I think it’s interesting, what catches the children’s eye, and I just kind of go with it.

Of course I can do that because we only live a couple of hours away and HRH can get discounted tickets from work.

This time, we ended up at Disney Sea. This is much more grown up oriented than Disneyland, but that was what they chose. It was gonna be a long day of carrying around more stuff than a pack horse in a wagon train and constantly trying to keep the kids from going in different directions, where inevitably they would get lost in the Disney abyss and never be heard from again. Less to get through was probably better, according to my calculations.

We spent an unusual amount of time exploding the medieval fortress filled with replicas of Leonardo inventions. (Note that this is not actually an attraction that you line up for.) We also spent awhile in the Mermaid Lagoon, though we only rode one thing there so I don’t entirely understand how that happened.

By the afternoon, we were totally pooped. We got the 4:30 bus back to Yokohama and were home in time for Sazae-san.

Me Too walked all day without once complaining that her feet hurt, though my dogs were certainly barking to me! But man, Japanese kids can walk. Inaka (country) children walk miles to school, and city children log a lot of miles just being city kids. They put me to shame!

My feet still have yet to recover, and Me Too is already pining to go to Disneyland. Maybe in the fall, hon.

The Devil

Maybe it’s shameful to admit, but I don’t function well with a blank slate. Put too much on my plate, and I descend into a blithering fog, but I do seem to need some pressure or things just don’t move at all.

I have had a lot to do today. But in spite of that, I’ve managed to get more done around the house than yesterday. I think I spent the whole day sitting in front of the heater. I suspect the heater might actually be some kind of handmaiden of Beelzebub who draws me in with her soft, warm breath, catches me in her grasp, then digs her nails in, making escape impossible.

Or it could be that I’m just lazy.

Either way, this month’s gas bill is gonna be the devil.

Mt. Awful

Have I blogged this sign yet? Wrestling the iPad away from the sick child to check is just SO not worth it… Y’all can read this again.

Yesterday was just the pinnacle of awfulness, the Mount of Olympus of it. Awful like the southern accent-three-syllable-kind. Today, thus far, has yet to be awful. Me Too and I are ex effing zausted. She isn’t throwing up. I haven’t tried to feed her anything she hasn’t asked for.

I need to pause and give thanks to iHerb.com for delivering (cheap!)to Japan all of the canned foods, instant oatmeal (not to mention German cardboard bread) that I have been subsisting on.

Me Too is clingy at the best of times. When she’s sick, she has to have one hand on me at all times. Serious tears when I cleaned the toilet yesterday. Boys, you got to get this pee-into-the-bowl thing together already. If you dribble, wipe it up! Take it from the other half of the human race that wiping after you pee is not that big a nuisance, ‘kay?

Really. Instead of telling people not to smoke all over the toilet, we should be admonishing them not to pee all over it.

But I digress. Iherb-big love. Till I get my credit card bill anyway.

And cool print yoga pants. Pain in the sit bones to get them here, BUT. They make me happy.

Om, y’all.

All over

Wow, been a long time and it’s not like I’ve been doing anything.

Last week, Me Too had her school play. HRH came (first one evah) so I promptly put him on video duty. But he screwed up. As in took pictures instead of video, then blamed it on the camera.

Now that excuse may fly if, like me, you are only partially literate in the country in which you live and are thus constantly effing up electronic stuff, but for him?

Eh, well, he needs a reminder every now and then that he isn’t perfect. Actually, he is constantly forgetting that, so prime example of imperfection.

That afternoon, I went to the doctor for myself because I have had a numb index finger for about a week. Doesn’t hurt really, just that I kind of prefer to have some sort of feeling in my extremities. Which is extravagant of me, I know. I was expecting the usual x-ray, rest, and stretch number, and in all fairness, did get the x-ray. Always fun when the “professionals” run out of the room and duck for cover when they turn the big guns on.

But then I got a bunch of stuff I wasn’t expecting about carpal tunnels and nerve damage and surgery.

So.

That wasn’t fun. I’ve got two weeks of meds to turn my stomach reduce inflammation, and then we’ll see, I guess.

I really should have asked the doctor to put my arm in a cast or something, though, because

No one understands me, man.

(Oh wait, go back and read that again, but sound like Marlin Brando in your head. Cause that’s how it sounds in my head, but there’s not a font for that.)

HRH is trying, sort of, in his own generally unhelpful way, to help around the house so I can rest my hand, but he hasn’t actually read any of the literature I brought back with me. So he like,put away the futons, which sounds strenuous, but it is actually the hanging up laundry and constant cooking and cleaning up and nose wiping and brushing everyone’s teeth (I have dreams where I’m a dentist, but not a creepy dentist like Jennifer Aniston in that weird movie whose name I have totally blocked out,) that are difficult and make the numbness worse. And I admit that my hand hurts occasionally, though usually it is when I have something to do I would rather avoid or when I think about some doctor who MAY be as creepy as Jennifer Aniston, DDS, cutting my hand open so it might be in my head.

But all of that jazz was completely forgotten by Monday morning because Me Too has the flu.

She was just feverish and coughy and phlegmy and gross the past few days, but today she started throwing up.

And then right on cue, Brother started being an ass. Usually on Wednesdays, I take him to Jusco where he can do one game at the game center while Sister is in dance class. Today, Sis has 103F fever. Jusco ain’t happening. No amount of crying or locking oneself in our only commode or calling one’s mother a promise-breaker is gonna change it. And, dude, I totally told you this morning that we wouldn’t be able to go, so get over it!

Meanwhile, DD pukes on our new rug (turns out it fits in the washer, though admittedly that could have been an unsuccessful experiment,) and while I’m cleaning this mess up Brother goes and eats that snack she’s left on the table.

Left so she could go puke in the living room. Cause that’s what you do? I don’t know.

Okay, this post is all over the place, so I’m gonna stop now. I’m not supposed to be driving or using heavy machinery while I’m on this medicine, perhaps I should avoid the Internet as well.

Circus Acts

When someone mentions planning to work once their child enters Japanese preschool, I’m tempted to warn them that being a preschool mom here is a part-time job in and of itself. I guess different schools are different, and I suspect that Yokohama is worse than other places, where moms who work less than full time have about the same chance of getting into daycare that Frosty has surviving the weekend in Hades. But I digress.

Even without having a PTA role, for the past month (and the upcoming one,)I’ve spent three hours every Thursday and at least that much besides working on this graduation party bs.

Lord preserve us, it’s neverending.

At least I convinced them not to make the goddamn balloon arch. Though I may have taken substantial pleasure holding it for ransom for various reasons in the future.

Thus far the only good thing to come of this brouhaha is that I’ve made friends with a mom of triplets. Gotta give her some respect cause that must be a hard row to hoe.

Me Too has her school play Friday afternoon. The funky timing works out such that I have to miss my yoga class and put Me First into after care.

Constant juggling act. Maybe I can get a gig at the circus.

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