Kiki's Curl

Metro North

White belt

Uta is in pursuit of a black belt. He doesn't quite get it though, that there is work to be done to earn it. Its not an effortless path he's stepped onto. When he was given his white belt he was also given a syllabus of what is to be learned in order to be promoted to an orange belt. I've explained this to Uta but its a reality he seems ill equipped to handle. He likes to say, "What if Sensei thinks I'm soo good he just gives me a black belt right away?" Not going to happen. Not ever, never, ever. Even if you are so so soo good. But his eyes glaze over with a veil of make believe and my words don't have a chance of penetrating. 

We signed Uta up for Karate due to a bit of late onset jealousy. About a month after Kizuki was born Uta started having these bouts of pure rage. He would scream at the top of his lungs the most venomous words he could think up and flail about like a feral child. It was frightening and heart breaking to witness. I never imagined such anger possible from him. But there he was, despite my disbelief, punching the wall with all his might and telling me to "GET OUT!" 

I hoped Karate would provide a bit of an outlet for his frustrations, or even just a temporary distraction from it all. If nothing else, it might just be fun for him, and he would get to look really cool in his uniform. Turns out to be all of that and more. Ganbate Uta kun! (You can do it!)

Do over

Yesterday I plum forgot to draw. I did my mark (and a little bit more) religiously for four days. And then somehow the whole commitment vanished from my brain. My day began too soon, after a sleepless night, with an explosive diaper and a bloody nose from my two children respectively. Then a mad dash to get Uta to school on time with Kizuki in tow. This means timing and hopefully spacing all of Kiki's bodily needs to avoid  a baby meltdown on the L train. Oh and then there are Uta's bodily needs, which somehow I manage to overlook more often than not these days, the sad price of being the oldest I guess. 

Once at school, Uta's class performed a poem of Thanksgiving for the whole school. Uta was stellar, in my motherly opinion, and I couldn't help but tear up like the complete (and proud) sap I have become. Kizuki, very respectfully, slept through the entire thing. But almost as soon as Uta had taken his bow, he was by my side in hysterics with another, very profuse, bloody nose. This is about how my day proceeded, with poop, blood, and tears, alternating and often times overlapping until I was so bleary eyed with exhaustion I could think of nothing but sleep. And didn't, until I woke up the next morning, and then remembered about the 108 days. Oops.

Pop said very nonchalantly, "Start again". Oh? I can do that? I thought I had to label my forehead with a big black Sharpie, FAILURE. I thought I had to beat myself up with disappointment for all of eternity. Simply start again, and again and again, if need be. No judgement?! No shame? This is revolutionary! Its not the 108 days that matter, its today. And although I didn't draw yesterday, I can always draw today. Today is all that matters. Today is day one.

Kanji Mobile

Uta made this kanji mobile for Kizuki. She loves it. She will gaze at it for a long time, completely content with her world.  And I get to wash the dishes! A very good mobile indeed.

108 days

There has been so much that I have wanted to write about recently, but so much that I just couldn't bear to put into words. Putting pen to paper instantly causes tears to well up in my eyes. Perhaps its a touch of the baby blues. I hope. But I suspect it goes a bit deeper than postpartum hormones. Sadness is no stranger to me. I'm afraid I have always puzzled over how to be happy. Papa H is one hundred percent certain that the only remedy needed is for me to begin drawing again. Accordingly he has prescribed 108 consecutive days in which I merely make a single mark, or more if I am inclined, just not less. I'm up for the challenge, a single mark I can handle, I hope, otherwise I have good cause indeed to be depressed. I am on day two.

Karate Kid

(Uta far left)

Kiki's First Portrait

by Uta

Loves