To My Children, My Magnum Opus

I really don't need Mother's Day. I don't need a card or carnations, I don't need chocolates and a brunch at an outdoor cafe. Why would I need a special holiday to celebrate my everyday status? There is no disregard in my days that warrants a Hallmark intervention. My children love me, they love me more than I deserve. I may do 100% for them everyday but they give me double that in an hour. I don't want to be exalted and crowned with a paper tiara. I just want to keep working on the debt that I owe my children, even though I know I will never be able to repay it in full.

Thank you, Sebastian. Thank you, Nicolai. Thank you, Colette. Thank you, Luca.
Thank you for making me your mother.

Mistakes are really discoveries

Nico's really into making things with paper. Origami, paper cuts, boxes, birds, you name it and it will be in paper form in a matter of minutes. (As I type this Jason is trying to convince Nico to delay the tape-box he's making for me until after dinner. It's like water off a stone with our determined boy.)

A few weeks ago, I taught Nico how to make snowflakes. A thousand snowflakes later and I am prepared to declare him an addict. Now and then though, he makes a mistake. I say mistake only because that is how he perceives them. I am not sure if his idea of perfection is rooted in nature or nurture but I do know that I want him to relinquish the negativity he associates with mistakes and see them for what they really are: learning opportunities. Thomas Edison said regarding his failed lightbulbs "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work".

Mistakes can also be a source of discovery, as Nico found out today. 

A broken snowflake is really just a pair of wings.


And once one person has a pair of wings...



Colette was happy to be a choucho (butterfly) and immediately jumped off the couch with great hopes. Landing with a thud, she said あれ (Japanese for 'huh?'). I love that she believed she could fly.


I also love that when Sebastian return from playing with friends, Nico asked him if he wanted a pair of wings too. 

 I love that Sebastian said of course.

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I cannot blog and have a cold, it turns out. I am just not that talented. I can't bear to write about tissues and red eyes yet there was nothing else on my mind for the last week. I'm on the mend now so all is well.

I am also in the homestretch of time until my maternity leave starts (3/6!!). I'm dreadfully excited about it since it means more time with the kids and near constant access to the bathroom (I am pregnant, people). With Colette I had about four months of maternity leave which was great but since we were also in the process of moving cross-country and I was working on my MATESOL, it didn't leave much room for anything else.

So this coming YEAR of maternity seems absolutely rich with opportunities for working on all the things I never have time for as a full-time teacher. January has been my month for paring down the massive to-do list that I compulsively add to even when I say I want to keep it simple. I promised myself at the turn of the new year that I would focus my attention on just two core pursuits. Japanese had/has to be one of them since it goes along nicely with my promise that I would have a decent comprehension of the language by the time we renew our three year visas, which happens to be next year. So that leaves a slot for just one other thing. Writing? Drawing? Sewing? I have been struggling with this. I tried to make room for all three of them, but it made me tired and I ended up with a runny nose and a sore throat. I crossed out sewing, or at least sewing for a new shop. Meaning I crossed out a new shop too. I packed away my fabric and notions with a sad 'see you later'. They'll keep. And in March I will do some sewing for the new baby as well as back-to-school gear and some sundresses for Colette. So it isn't a complete farewell but it does clear my head.

Now to decide between drawing and writing. Writing is the likely winner but drawing for a year is very tempting. Writing is something I can do, given the time and a quiet space. Drawing is something I want to do. I want to write too but drawing is much easier to work on when surrounded by littles (see requirement above for writing). Unfortunately, it turns out that my clock only allows for 24 hours in each day and, like it or not, I need a fair amount of sleep. So I must choose wisely.

Of course, taking care of four kids is included in my calculations but at this point, mothering is like breathing or laughing. Very natural and I don't premeditate it (that much). Actively and consciously being creative is more challenging, so that is why I devote so much time and space here to consider how to do it properly.

So I will continue to consider the best course, doing both until the answer comes to me. Though, not trying to be impatient, I am hoping the answer isn't delayed as I really look forward to getting started on this gift that my little Luca has given me.

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Today Sebastian and I made a run to the 100 yen shop for some supplies to make his winter holiday homework craft (a creature made of paper cups and rubber bands that jumps). Since I rarely get that much solo time with my oldest, I asked him the usual checking questions about his friends and studies, about his life in general. He told me that his favorite part of the school day was arts and crafts (second was P.E.). Later on the train, I gave him my notebook so he could occupy himself. He drew a very intricate preying mantis, the final result was something he was proud enough to show his dad when we returned. Then he drew a race car and was not satisfied with his efforts. I said something about not judging his work, about how enjoying the process is what really matters. He nodded and said, "Yes, I understand that. When I am drawing I am not thinking about anything else. I am just drawing and happy. So you know, I want to work on my drawing every day so I can get better and better. I want to be able to draw everything."

The funny thing is that besides for the joyful flutterings of my heart at his words, I also felt a shadow of concern darken my mind. Was he developing a love for drawing trying to please me, as when I am home and not doing chores I am most likely drawing? I want his passions and pursuits to be his own, uninfluenced by me. Of course, I must wonder if this is even possible or even necessary. Maybe it is just part of Sebastian's fate, good or bad, to be born into a family where there are always plenty of drawing pads and charcoal around so that he can develop into who he is meant to be.

Looking at my budding artist as he copied the dragon poster hanging from the train car's ceiling, I immediately put to bed those worries. He was utterly absorbed in his work and had no concern for me, even when I told him it was our station. It is his joy, his passion even if he was introduced to it by someone else. I am glad that I can give him what he needs, including the patience to wait for him on the cold sidewalk as he broke in his new drawing pad with a picture of a neighbor's sports car. Looking up from the page, he said 'I'm going come out here again tomorrow and see what it looks like in the daytime.'. That is all Sebastian right there.