What does this mean?

Today a snail traversed our kitchen window. Like an alien landing we gawked and shot photos. We live on the second floor... that's a very long way to slither for a snail. Certainly scaling such heights debunks any reputation the poor creature has for being lazy! But what does this strange occurrence symbolize? Such things don't happen every day in Queens. It must be fortuitous. We are searching for meaning... maybe a little too hard. But on the brink of big change, its always nice to have a little harbinger of good luck, even in the form of a snail.

Gundam

I have entered into the tortuous wait which is the final stage before the baby's birth. I am hoping there are only a handful of days left, but realistically it could very well be weeks. (Please, No!) I am impatient, to put it mildly. Everything requiring the use of my body takes tremendous effort, even lying down. There is only one position in which my body feels comfortable and that one position is not comfortable for very long. Going from sitting to standing takes forethought and serious motivation. There are eight stages, at least, of shifting, rocking and propelling myself forward and up. Yes, the beached whale metaphor is never far from mind. To top it all off, I have managed to land a nasty cold.

Uta too has the cold, but it has failed to slow him down. We are like crazy playful kitten meets dying sloth. What to do, what to do!? Luckily Uta is newly hooked on building Gundam models, two of which he received for his birthday. I only have a foggy notion of what Gundam is, and honestly I prefer it that way. This is Papa territory and he can keep his claim to it. All I can say is Gundam is some sort of violent robotic figure thing, usually with massive weapons attached to the arms. The model kits are a little intimidating, with zillions of tiny pieces to be cut from plastic frames, and an instruction book loaded with extremely detailed diagrams of what goes where. Its not something to be accomplished in a day... it might take Uta weeks, which suits us all just fine.

Best of all, this is a cherished hobby straight from Pop's childhood. Uta has been admitted into the weird and wonderful world of a Japanese boy... at least what Pop was like as a boy. And Uta is honored.

Seven!

Love

Have you ever loved a pair of sunglasses? Fallen so hard for them that the very idea of parting with them made you uncertain of how to proceed with your life? Uta has. Uta's penpal Mandy came for a visit and with her brought a pair of sunglasses that instantly melted Uta's heart. The sunglasses were not intended as a gift, they were Mandy's own glasses, she loved them too. They were admittedly not her 'serious' pair, she brought along two. But they were sunglasses she still liked to wear, sunglasses her little sister had given her, sunglasses she intended to return home with.

True love, however, is just not that easy to dismiss just because the thing you love belongs to someone else. Such is one of the many hurdles of childhood that kids must face. Even Uta. As Mandy's departure grew close, Uta realized that along with her, the glasses would go too. He was lost. He sank into utter despair. In a whisper barely audible, more like gasping for breath, Uta told me he just didn't know how to be a super hero without those sunglasses. He mourned for them before they were even gone, passing through all seven stages in the span of an hour. Acceptance did come. And when it came time to say goodbye, Uta was only sad to see Mandy go, there was no mention of the sunglasses.

After Mandy was well on here way home, Uta found a little note on the fridge. It said there was a surprise waiting for him in his helmet. A mad dash, a gasp of disbelief, a squeal of joy, and a very sweet reunion.

Boy's Club

Uncle J, Grandpa T, Uta and a boat. The language of buoys and the mechanics of anchors. Jumping overboard and the taste of salt water. Wake bumping and speed. And for me? The sweet solitude of the bay and a book. Thank you boys.

Little Grandpa

Little Grandpa celebrated his 90th birthday this past weekend. This is Uta's Great Grandfather, and why Uta calls him 'little' is any body's guess. Uta knows nothing really of the man he once was, age has reduced him to a one-dimensional version of his old self. When I asked Uta about him he said he doesn't think he knows who he is because when we visit, little Grandpa just calls him Bozo. Uta said he always bangs his cane at him and makes a sort of monster noise. Maybe he hasn't changed that much since I was a kid.... at that time his classic sound was an airy whistle, like a cuckoo clock. Whenever he saw me he teased me with his own version of the nursery rhyme Georgie Porgie.

Teeny Weenie Pudding and Pie
Kissed the boys and made them cry

The Big Duck

Uta's Great-great Grandmother used to come to this Big Duck to buy eggs and chicken from the local farmer. Now it is filled with commemorative items of itself, mugs and tote bags with a picture of the big duck. But we love it still and always thrill to drive by its massive form.

Circus at Coney Island

The best part of the circus is that its right beyond the boardwalk of Coney Island. And when Uta pleaded for an extremely over priced stuffed white tiger, he was easily pacified with an offer to walk to the waters edge instead. We didn't bring suits so I rolled up Uta's pants and he promised to just go in to his knees. Ha! It was a mere thirty seconds before he was completely soaked. But oh well. What is summer if not a good excuse to throw practicality to the wind. The waves were just perfect for him, high enough to crash around his waist but mild enough to cause no real threat. He was more than a little sandy and damp on the subway ride home, but thoroughly satisfied.

Circus Pics

Uta at the Circus

I have a boy who hoots and hollers and wears a clown nose on top of his head.

Customizing

Here are few of Uta's favorite things...



White Out
Permanent Markers
Sand Paper

and

Lego Mini-figures

The result.....




Customized Star Wars Clones!

Climbing the Walls

Maybe there are benefits to boredom. At least this is what I must tell myself to appease the guilt of having this boy entertaining himself most days. I had high hopes for the summer, field trips and exciting activities, but my aspirations have all but fizzled. I can just barely handle the mundane chores of my normal life. If ever there were two souls on conflicting tracks it is this Mama-son duo... Uta is climbing the walls, and I am fighting constantly the overwhelming urge to crawl back in bed. Boredom has the boy digging deep for inspiration. There was certainly an adjustment period, where for days I heard nothing out of his mouth but "I'm Bored! Bored, bored, BORED!" But to his credit Uta has adapted. And I have not heard the dreaded 'B' word in weeks. He keeps busy, and happy, even settling into precious moments of complete absorption in some self generated project. The quiet is golden. Mostly these projects revolve around legos. Like now, Uta is transforming one of his mini figures into bat-girl, and I have not heard a peep put of him for a solid hour.