Boys will be boys?

These days everything Uta touches somehow morphs itself into a weapon.  A half eaten piece of toast is not just a half eaten piece of toast, it's a gun. Nothing is off limits. Baby monitors, glue sticks, water bottles, vacuum cleaners; all guns. Is this a typical case of 'boys will be boys'? Or are these the early warning signs of some grave trouble to come? I'm concerned. Truly.

The Perfect Hat

Kizuki has already outgrown all of her newborn hats. She has several others that are slightly too big and make her squawk out in protest when they slip down over her eyes. The hat that fits her just right, and never elicits any complaints, is the one handmade and given to her by her Great Grandmother. (Little Grandma, as Uta is fond of calling her.) It is no small success to find the perfect hat for one's baby when facing months of cold ahead. Leave it to Grandma to keep this child warm! Thanks Grandma. The only problem is that Uta likes it too! One more, please.

Update #3 (Papa)

This is long overdue. But never the less, we are very proud of Pop for making his Chelsea debut. The art world is a better place because of it. And this is only the beginning. What's happening in his studio now makes me giddy with happiness, its that good!. Congratulations Papa H.

Update #2 (Uta)

Uta's belief in Santa is devout. He doesn't believe in God, he says, because he never received any letters from him. But Santa always leaves a thank you note for the cookies he gives him and because of that he hasn't a single doubt in his existence. When asked what else he believes in, Uta responds, "Cooks, of course, those I've seen." 

There was no fooling anyone with the Santa at the Karate Dojo's holiday party, he was skinny as a rail and had a mustache that went up over the top of his nose. The kids didn't care, or even seem to notice, they were having way too much fun. Uta is still loving karate, but even more so he is loving his new found community. 

I'm afraid our days of magical thinking are numbered. Every day Uta looks less like the little boy I know so well and more like a teenager. Yikes! But Uta promises he'll be a nice teenager. He says he won't wear his pants so low that his undies show and he won't curse on the subway. Well, thats a little comfort. I guess.

Update #1 (Kizuki)

Kizuki is three months old today! She is as chubby and happy and content as any baby could hope to be. Every day she reveals to us a little more of who she is and we are all totally smitten, even Uta. Uta's friends, who have little sisters, have been warning him that sisters are big trouble. Uta, as a result, has been reserving judgement on our girl. She has responded to his suspicions with complete adoration. There is no one she loves looking at more than Uta, her gaze tracks him everywhere he goes. Uta counted 14 and a half smiles that she gave to him within the first three minutes of waking this morning. Uta told me now he is sure she loves him. (He had been wondering about this since the day she was born. How can you tell when someone can't talk?) On the inside of the birthday card Uta gave to Kiki, it says, "I am lucky I have a good sister." 

Belly Boing

Uta says I currently look like 'Belly Boing' from the Japanese show Deko Boko Friends. Belly Boing is pictured above in the front row on the far right. Not a very nice thing to say, but a little bit true. Belly Boing has a big belly and his shirts are always a bit too short to cover it. (Me too.) Belly Boing is always hungry and likes to eat sweet things most of all. (Me too!) My belly, however, does not sound like a drum when you hit it, no matter how many times you try.

Night Duty

I'm going on three months now without decent sleep, more if you count those prenatal big belly nights of insomnia. I'm pretty tired. Some days, try as I might, I just can't blink the fog from my eyes. Last night Kizuki slept from nine to two, which, according to baby books, constitutes sleeping through the night. That doesn't exactly feel like a full night of sleep to me, but certainly preferable to the nights when she wakes up hourly. Last night Uta was feverish and coughing and needed his own night time parenting. Navigating through the house in the dark is effortless, my eyes easily translate the shadows. I refill the vaporizer, change a diaper, take Uta's temperature, get him some juice, resettle the baby, resettle myself, and sleep (a little). Shuffle and repeat until the sun rises and Kiki's eyes are wide and bright and smiling. The nights aren't bad, its the mornings that pose a challenge. 

Kiki's Curl