Scones!

With a baby everything takes longer. Getting out the door is an orchestration of diaper changes, bag packing, and last minute nursing. Sometimes we don't even make it out the door. Sometimes even going to the corner for milk feels way too ambitious. But most of the time, things just happen slower. My to do list is long and neglected. It gets reshuffled daily, and often the little things, like sending a note of thanks, fall to the bottom.

On Christmas Eve, after a full day of work, and with exhaustion accompanying them at the starting line, Uncle J and Shanta drove six hours through the thick of night (crossing paths with Santa) to be with us on Christmas morning. I don't know why they willingly sacrificed their one day off to be woken up at the crack of dawn by a present crazed kid, but they did, and we were delighted. Though we did next to nothing (lounging all day in our pajamas, cat napping on and off, and playing with Uta), having them with us made it feel like Christmas. What made the day even more special was that Shanta baked. She made an old fashioned coffee cake, cheese cake, and cranberry walnut scones that were so good I am still mourning my last bite (eleven days later) and wondering when, if ever, I will eat a scone that good again.

Thank you! (A little belated but none the less heartfelt.)

New Years Day

From what I gather, Christmas in Japan is no big deal. Its like valentines day. There may be a small gift, perhaps a shared sweet, but none of the customary excess that we have come to love and dread here in America. Papa H will probably never get used to the gobs and gobs of presents that spill forth from beneath the tree on Christmas morning. Isn't one present enough? Yes. But that is besides the point. Its the frenzy of unwrapping, the confetti of ribbon and torn paper, and the complete and utter delirium of having way too much all at once! That's not what Christmas is all about, of course, we all know, but when you are a kid, its a definite perk.

In Japan, the holiday that everyone comes home for is New Year's. Food preparations for this special day are elaborate, to say the least. Countless dishes, exquisitely beautiful and symbolic, are prepared ahead of time and presented in stacked lacquer boxes. The New Year's holiday lasts for three days. Nobody works, nobody cooks, families come together and eat. We are always a little sad on New Year's Day when we can't be in Japan with H's family. This year we did iChat with them, and tried to share, just a little of their New Year's warmth. But it was not the same. Computer screens are flat and cold and lousy substitutes for the real thing, they only accentuate the impossible distance between us.

So we did the next best thing to spending the holidays with family, we spent it with friends. Papa organized a wonderful New Year's celebration with lots of friends and lots a food. Uta was a maniac, a very happy one, the entire time. Luckily there were plenty of people (and space) to diffuse his boundless excitement. Eventually he crashed, but only after everyone else had gone home. He was the last man standing. Except for Papa. Papa had to carry Uta home.

Happy New Year Everyone!

Favorite Things

For Santa and Rudolph

Christmas Spirit

I had hoped to get an earlier start, but by the time we managed to get out the door, in search of our tree, it was already dark and snowing. The sidewalks were covered with a heavy dusting of white and the falling snow sparkled under the glow of street lights. Everything ugly about our neighborhood faded into the shadows. With a fresh cloak of snow the city is simply beautiful. And quiet. Nature is the great equalizer. You don't need money to have the snow fall on your face, fill up your boots, and remind you that this life, the only one we have, is perfect. And so Uta and I (with Kiki tucked in her sling) set out on foot, in the dark of night, in a snowstorm, with a very special quest at hand, to find the perfect tree.

Uta wanted a tree exactly the same size as himself. Papa H was working late and could not help with the hauling. I of course had the baby to hold. So I told Uta he could have any tree he liked, as long as he could carry it home by himself. Backed by a month and a half of karate training, Uta felt powerful and strong, and eagerly accepted my terms.

It was love at first sight, from across the street, in the dark. "That's the one!" Which one? Where? As soon as the crosswalk light changed Uta made a beeline for it, greeting the poor thing in a hug that nearly took down the whole lineup of trees. The lady from the shop came out to help us. She complimented Uta on his fine selection and told me the price.

Uta carted the tree back, five long blocks, on his shoulder, without complaint, stopping now and then to switch sides and catch his breath. He sang christmas carols all the way, mixing up the words and melodies, but belting out a christmas spirit that could stir the hearts of any and all, even the toughest of Scrooges. Even me. At one point Uta turned to me and declared, in all earnestness, "It really is the most wonderful time of the year." At that moment I felt just like the grinch did at the end of the movie when his heart grew three sizes bigger.

"He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more!

I could rant for hours about all that I wish was different in my life. Its a no good 'poor me' soundtrack that is causing worry lines to collect on my brow and muscle aches to dig deep into my shoulders. And yet for my children, the very same life that we share is rich and abundant. How can that be? This home that we share, the one that never measures up for me, is the home that will hold the most magical of memories for them. They don't need a snowstorm to see the perfection, they wake up happy and naturally delight in what comes. Our days are exactly the same and yet our experience is totally different. This is their childhood! And it is a really good one. They are surrounded by love. And though I manage to forget it most of the time, I am too.

Big News

Uta has announced (in all seriousness) that he will be taking an extended break from being a secret agent so that he can better focus his attentions on being a cook. This news is widespread. Several faculty members at Uta's school have come to me to express their udder surprise and dismay. Uta has been a secret agent at school since his early days in pre-k, and apparently its been no secret to anyone. But his watchful eye in the hall will be sorely missed. Uta feels bad about it but he must follow his heart, and his heart is telling him to cook. His specialty at the moment is sauteed carrots. His new secret weapon? Butter.

Rock and Roll

Hurray for snow!!!