Little alien man

I started this blog as a practice run. This summer Uta and I will go to Japan. Japan feels more like home than home to me, but I realize my family here fears we've fallen clear off the edge of the earth every time we go. So during this next trip I will keep an old fashioned travelogue and post it here, giving friends and family a tiny window into our home in Japan.

But writing about Uta has done something unexpected, it has helped me to slow down time. In the crazy rush of daily life, this blog has given me the opportunity to savor Uta's childhood, holding it just a little closer and longer in my hand. Who is this strange little alien man living with us? Constantly tripling in size, redecorating our apartment, and eating up all my apples? Uta is more familiar than my own skin but still inspires awe in me on a daily basis. Living with him is like rooming with both a deity and a devil. (Or maybe he would prefer I say a super-hero and a monster.) Want to know yourself? Invite a child into your home, the best and the worst of who you are will quickly rise to the top.

Last night I read to Uta some of what I've written here. Do you like it? I asked. "Yes," he said. "It makes me feel so comfortable."

Where's Uta?

Every time I leave the room Uta scurries to find a place to hide. When I return, he is nowhere to be seen. There is always, however, a trail of unrestrained giggles leading directly to his hideout. Of course immediate discovery is out of the question, instead I must go along with the farce, searching everywhere, calling 911, until at last Uta jumps out to 'surprise' me. The reunion that follows is sometimes tearful, always over the top. Uta never tires of this charade, he could repeat it over and over all day long.  

Legos, legos, legos

The pain of stepping on a lego is like none other. I'm always positive I will find a big invasive piece of glass stuck to the sole of my foot, or maybe a tetanus breeding nail. But then, to look down at the culprit and find a happy colored building block, it feels like betrayal. And the chaos they bring! Lego construction usually produces two things, a new ship and complete ruin. Our apartment always ends up looking like the aftermath of a tornado. But oh well. For Uta, I fear, its true love.

Hello Robot!

Forgive me for boasting, but Uta is a Lego Genius. Now I know all Mama's think their kids are brilliant, and I'm no exception, we have to, otherwise kids couldn't survive very long. But check out this little robot, it's truly over the moon cool.

Patience Pills

Last night at bedtime, a particularly trying time because Uta would prefer to never sleep, ever, Uta gave me a small supply of patience pills. Since I'm not a pill person, believing in lots of water and lemon to be the best elixir for almost every ailment, physical or otherwise, Uta had some convincing to do. The pills are small, he said, and invisible, they taste like tea. I was intrigued, but not convinced. He then forced me to take it, putting one on my tongue and holding my mouth closed like a dog. We then proceeded with our bedtime routine. Teeth, story, massage... and then just before Uta fell asleep he declared, "It worked Mama! You were so nice tonight. Don't worry, I have more pills for when you run out." 

Humph.

Who are you today?

Pikachu

Den-O

Matsui 

Cowboy Uta riding his horse Poppy

Captain Jack

Robin

And that's just a few! Uta has been just about every super hero in the book, Japanese and American. He has a cast of animal characters that pop up quite regularly, including a very shy bat named Peep and a hot tempered lion named Leo. Today he was a ninja warrior, flying through the tops of a bamboo forest, fighting bad guys left and right. And now? He's Clark, you know, Clark Kent of the Daily Planet. 

Martin Luther King, Jr.

On our way home from school yesterday Uta was Martin Luther King, Jr. He told me that he had thrown out all his bad words, especially the word 'hate'. Instead, he said, he wants to use big powerful words like 'love'. And again today it wasn't Uta I picked up from school, but Martin Luther King, Jr. On the N train home this is what Dr. King told me about himself.

"I'm the one who makes everyone happy." 

"I'm the one who makes everyone be friends." 

"I teach bossy people how to be nice." 

"I teach all colors of people to play together."

"People throw confetti because everyone loves me."

"I like to wear a suit everyday."

Playing Hooky

On Monday afternoon we all played hooky to see Martin Puryear's retrospective at Moma. The show was breathtaking. Walking into the first room was like stepping foot into a cathedral; almost immediately upon entering the space everyone is compelled to look up. The sculptures reach beyond the ceiling, piercing through to the stars. With the horizon erased and the sky squished to a minimum, city dwellers tend to keep their eyes on the sidewalk, especially those of us with children constantly doing silly walks at our side. So it felt quite nourishing to lift my gaze up and bask in the beauty of Puryear's sculpture. As ethereal as this work is, it is equally physical. I could practically taste the sawdust from their making on my tongue and feel my feet pushing through wood shavings as I walked through the museum. 

The Red Knight

In the morning before leaving for school Uta always tucks one or two Lego figures into the bottom of his backpack. Toys are not allowed at school but we have chosen to overlook this rule. Last year Uta never left the house without being in full costume. No one was even allowed to call him Uta! So if  a tiny toy hidden in his bag gives him the strength he needs to leave the house it's ok with me. But one day recently, Uta returned home in tears, his precious Legos were missing. We were both baffled. He swore he never took them out of his bag and the only person he told about them was Clayton (his designated partner). As much as I hated to ask the obvious question, I had to. "Could Clayton have taken them?" But there was no doubt in Uta's mind; that was impossible, Clayton is his best buddy. 

But the pattern repeated; Uta took a toy to school, returned without it, and had only confided about his hidden treasure to Clayton. After school the next day we decided to confront Clayton. Five year olds are not good liars. Even though Clayton denied taking anything from Uta, it was painfully clear that he had. Very gently, with lots of hugs and reassurance, I coaxed the truth out. Tears quickly flowed, and Clayton started pulling Lego figures from his pockets. All were returned, but one, the red knight. Clayton had taken the red knight home and had hidden him in his bedroom. He promised to bring him back the following day.

Uta was heartbroken. He walked away in a complete slump, just not understanding why Clayton would lie to him. Then he was pissed. He huff and puffed for approximately two blocks. And then it was done. "I still love Clayton," Uta said, "I just want him to bring back the red knight."  And he meant it. The next time they saw each other I was expecting a little tension at least, but there was none. They played happily as if nothing had happened. Clayton had forgotten to bring back the red knight, but he promised to do so the following day.It took a week and a half, Uta inquiring daily about the knight's whereabouts, but finally Clayton brought him back. Hurray for Clayton! Five year olds are good people. They love by default. They forgive in a flash.

Tufted Titmouse

In loving memory of a tufted titmouse found lying in the snow. Uta buried him beside a wintering hydrangea and then drew this picture.