Sayonara

Tomorrow morning Uta and I will embark on a twenty nine hour trip that will bring us from our home in Brooklyn to Itami airport in Osaka, Japan. Wish me luck. 

(This picture was taken by Uncle J atop the Manhattan Bridge. On Friday we walked (well some of us walked, others got generous shoulder rides from their willing Uncle) across the bridge to view the waterfalls. It was a perfect day. I like when Uta spends time with Uncle J, he learns about important things like rivets and barges.)

Willa

This morning everyone in Uta's class read a few sentences they had written about the end of kindergarten. Uta was shockingly at ease when he stood before the classroom full of students and picture snapping parents. He spoke in a loud, clear voice, and shot me a big thumbs up when he finished. 

This is what he wrote. 

I am so happy because I will be a first grader.

I will be smarter.

I will be taller.

I will not miss kindergarten.

But one thing I know he will miss about kindergarten is Willa. They are wonderful friends. After the mini graduation ceremony we took Uta and Willa to the playground to ride the tire swing together in the rain. They delighted in being completely soaked and dizzy, for them a truly perfect celebration. And to top it all off they found a firefly. A first for them both. They gingerly passed their captive from hand to hand until the bug had had enough and took flight. Afterwards Uta and Willa marched in a zigzag through the park singing an impromptu song about being very lucky kids. 

No more pencils, no more books....

School is done. Uta is officially a first grader.

Fever

Uta is sick. His eyes are glazed with fever, his body brewing something too big to handle, he has slept the entire day. It is not a peaceful rest, but more of a struggle, like his body has been hijacked and he is forced to sleep at gun point. Some internal force is pulling him down to do battle. I host a vigil at his side, checking his temperature with my palm, providing sips of juice in the brief moments that he surfaces. 

I wish that I could be sick for him, let whatever has invaded his body run its course through my old weathered system instead. But I can't. And I'm sure its not the last time I will want to absorb some hurt of his into my own calloused self, be it physical or otherwise, disappointments await, heart break, loss. Can you tell I haven't slept? Exhaustion makes me more than a little bit melodramatic. But no one tells you how heartbreaking motherhood is. And sometimes loving someone so deeply is just more than I can bear. 

Up, up, and a loft

Jungle suit

Last week when I emptied Uta's pockets I found a tiny silver spoon. Uta was somewhat resistant to reveal its origins. After a little digging I deduced that it came from the little coffee shop we frequent on the way to school. He found it on the bench outside, no different in his mind than picking up stray bolts and washers from the sidewalk. We returned the spoon the following day. Today when I emptied his pockets I found a heap of uprooted weeds. Immediately Uta says, "Don't be mad." I promised him I would not, so he told me the story. 

It was a team effort. During his recess, Uta and his pal Andre reached under the school yard fence and yanked out as much greenery as possible from the neighboring yard. Uta estimates it was only about half the garden. Another little boy (Clayton, whom you may remember from an earlier post) threatened to tell on them, so Uta stashed all the evidence in his pockets. Why on earth?

They were trying to construct a jungle suit. 

Happy Father's Day!

Robot parts

Uta is building a robot, he is in stage one of robot production, collecting parts. Uta asked me to post the following request on his behalf.

"Please send some robot pieces to me, like heads, arms, legs, and feet. And of course a mouth and body. Thank you from Uta" 

Field Trip

Today Uta's class went on  a field trip to Coney Island. They had a picnic on the beach and then took a ride on the Wonder Wheel.

This is Uta on the boardwalk with one of his best friends, Jesse.

Hello summer

Suddenly I want for nothing but shade. This weekend was devoted to garden hoses, trickling streams and water guns. Hello summer.

Last hurrah

I was already composing my consolation for Uta's pending disappointment. It was the last out of the game, the Yankees were behind by two, most of the stadium had resigned their fate to losing and had cleared out to avoid the unavoidable traffic. Then Alex Rodriguez got a single, and the wind shifted. From that moment on it was a classic underdog victory. Next up Matsui, another single to score Rodriguez and bring the Yankees within one run. The grand finale, Jason Giambi hit a home run and the Yankees won. (Did I just do a play by play?) Cue Frank.

Before today, Giambi was not a player in Uta's regular repertoire. He knew the name, but had no attachments. He did however have a Giambi T-shirt that was given to him by Grandpa Bill. This morning Uta was all set to go to the game wearing his Matsui shirt when he spilled yogurt down the front. I guess I could have rinsed it off, but a quick wardrobe change made much more sense to me and luckily Uta wasn't opposed. So at the very last minute he changed into his Giambi shirt. Lucky duck. At the end of the game complete strangers were congratulating Uta like he had some real role in the game's outcome. Uta lapped it up.

When I put Uta to sleep tonight I foolishly said, Goodnight Uta.

I'm not Uta.

Who are you?

Giambi.

Goodnight Giambi.

Thanks to Grandpa Tom for giving us one last hurrah with Yankee Stadium. (Oh and for the peanuts, and pop corn, and lemon ice too.)

City kid

Central Park

To celebrate Uta's graduation we went to Central Park to explore, running free being the only real treat for the boy. I always forget what a wonder Central Park is. Spending time there makes me think that just maybe its OK to be raising Uta in the city. Childhood and nature are so intrinsically linked in my mind, its hard for me to overcome the feeling that I am doing Uta a great injustice by living in Brooklyn. But if you look for it, there is lots of magic to fuel a kid here too.

Watching the sailboats.

Chatting with a police horse.

Meditating on the rocks.

After we were all tuckered out from romping around the park, we took a pedi-cab to midtown for Japanese curry. Tourists in our own city, what a joy.

Closing Ceremony

Sunday was the closing ceremony for Uta's Japanese class. This is a three hour event that includes the awarding of certificates, student presentations, and in true Japanese fashion, a painstakingly long acknowledgement of everyone (everyone!) directly and remotely involved in the Japanese program. For Uta's presentation he was required to give a speech in which he described a drawing. I was a nervous wreck, but Uta swore he wasn't scared in the least. At the moment of truth his body said otherwise, his knees knocked fiercely and his voice was barely audible. There were a few hecklers (well meaning parents?) who yelled from the audience encouraging him to speak directly into the mic. I wanted to single handedly strangle them on the spot, but I was too busy choking back tears of pride. For Uta, his performance was a stellar success. He didn't forget a single word! At five, I was still hiding behind my Mother's legs, and here he was standing on stage in front a good sized crowd giving a speech. Hats off to him!

Uta receiving his certificate.

Waiting on stage to give his speech.

Sweet success.