Fuji Kids: Part 1

I have decided to change the title of the blog to "I wish I wrote more, but..."

Ha. Just kidding. That title would be so appropriate, but alas, it is a trifle unwieldy. I do love a good ellipsis though "..." but for now, we'll keep the title as it is.

I feel like the fates are against me ever blogging again, because even as I write this, the screen is literally jumping up and down and right and left with no warning. It's like my blog is having a seizure. Maybe the shock of being updated is just too much for it. If it looks weird to you, be patient with us, we're epileptic tonight.  (Another possible title: the Epileptic Ellipsis).

The storied mountain itself at sunset. Taken from base by my fave photographer, Tim.

		Speaking of Fuji-san, our daily lives have changed a bit, as both Adelaide and Graydon are now enrolled in Fuji Kids Montessori youchien. Fuji means wisteria in Japanese and I don't know if there actually is any wisteria at their school, or if it's called Fuji because there is a wonderful view of Mt. Fuji as you approach the school. Either way, it's easy to say and remember, and I'll take what I can get. My Fuji Kids One of the annoying things that happens when a person starts to learn a foreign language is that they then pepper their native tongue with tidbits of their newly acquired language.  I know it's annoying, but here I am doing it anyway. In part, because I'm trying to think in Japanese instead of mentally translating and in part because we don't really have an American equivalent to youchien. It translates to kindergarten, but that isn't an exactly equivalent term. In America that means a grade that is part of the educational system, meaning everyone attends, and it's one year. Here, youchien is not required, though most children do attend one, and they last for three years. Most Japanese children begin their formal education at age 3, five days (sometimes six!) a week for roughly five hours a day. The school year begins in April and you are placed in classes by your age at that time. So if you're five in April, you're in the 5 year old class. In our case, Addie attends five days a week. She gets the bus at 9:15 and comes home at 3:30. Graydon attends somewhere between once and four times a week, and the oddest thing for me is that I have no say in his schedule. The school sends out a calendar for the entire year that lets you know what days the preschool meets for the two year class. This past week he went once. Next week he goes four days. (Note: I think that is God's gift to me for my birthday week, as Graydon is firmly entrenched in what I oh-so-fondly refer to as "the jackass years".)  Yes, I'm referring to this guy. Super cute. Super difficult. Japanese women have the highest rates of working after becoming mothers out of all the first world nations, and it is easy for me to see why. The schools are incredibly accommodating. You can drop your child off as early as 7:30 AM and pick them up as late as 6 PM. School care is also available on Saturdays. For an additional fee you can have the bus pick your child up and drop them off beginning at age three. Lunch is provided every day, and it is invariably nutritious and  delicious. Tea and snacks are provided for children who stay for later care. You can also sign your child up for lessons after school, including foreign languages, dance, and sports. This all begins at age three, remember. This week's lunch menu. Pardon the shadow of my head. It's getting late and the niceties are going out the window. And it is surprisingly affordable...that is, after the initial mammoth payout to get started. There is definitely some sticker shock involved with the registration fees, uniform costs, school supply costs, and so on. It adds up to a few thousand dollars, which is done in part to discourage parents from bouncing around from school to school. It's an investment in the truest sense of the word. But after that? About $300 per month for full time youchien. I believe we paid $200 for Addie's two afternoons a week preschool last year, for comparison.That could be more or less depending on how often you order school lunch and do extra care, but still...very affordable considering the level of care you're getting. Never in life did I think I would send my child to school looking like an extra in the Sound of Music, but it is pretty cute. I say "formal education" but at least at Fuji, the emphasis is really on play and developing independence. This fits right in with the Montessori philosophy, which Tim and I both love. Their motto is "Help me to do it myself", which is basically parenting in a nutshell, at least in my view.

The school itself has won awards for its design and I was instantly smitten when we toured. The entire building is designed to be on a child's scale and to encourage play and exploration. The roof is a large flat circle with slides down to the ground that encourages the children to climb and run in circles until they drop.

The school! That large surface with all the kids on it is actually the roof.

Montessori also puts a lot of emphasis on exploring the natural world and using natural materials in play and learning. This meshes seamlessly with the Japanese aesthetic, and it's very, very well done at the school. There are no walls between the classrooms, only the type of accordion partitions you sometimes see in church basements, so it feels very open and free flowing. The buildings were all constructed around any existing trees.



 For safety, the openings in the roof are surrounded by nets. The nets are hand woven by Japanese fishermen using their traditional weaving methods.

A good view of the roof and the nets. The inclined glass structures are skylights.

The kids are allowed to climb the trees and jump down into the nets. They warned us on our school visit that sometimes children do get hurt and that we would need to be basically OK with that. Their attitude is that little mistakes with little consequences are the best way for children to learn. We completely agree. Besides, it looks like so much fun!


 


They also grow food on site, including rice, sweet potatoes, and eggplants and the kids are involved in each step of the food production process, from planting all the way to harvesting, washing, and eating the produce. As if that wasn't enough, they also have ponies and ducks at the school and the children get to ride the ponies on their birthdays.

It's basically the coolest school ever, and I wish I was five again, which is an envy I usually reserve for naptime.

So Tim and I love it, and I think the kids are liking it, especially Addie. Graydon...well he takes off running when he sees the bus and I usually have to drag him out of a pine tree kicking and screaming, but he'll come around. I hope. 

The computer is still seizing, so I'm going to break this into two parts. Part Two will contain all of my funny stories thus far. That's what we call a teaser in the biz. ;-) 

Our precious eldest girl. We're so proud of her! Even better, she's proud of herself.

But before I share the funny stuff, it would be remiss of me not to mention something very serious.

I'm so appreciative of this opportunity for a thousand and one reasons, but the one that sticks out to me the most is that we're very fortunate indeed to be based in a country where educating women is both allowed and encouraged. It could so easily be otherwise.

For so many bright young girls, school is a financial impossibility, or worse, downright dangerous. Every day when I watch Adelaide board the bus with her friends, I am grateful that I don't fear her being shot like Malala Yousafzai or kidnapped like the young woman taken by Boko Haram in Africa. The tears in my eyes are not from fear, but pride. Someday, she might be the President, or a surgeon, or a librarian, or stay at home parent. She could be anything and probably will be many things. Opportunities await. I never want to take that for granted.

Martin Luther King Jr., speaking on the steps of the State Capitol in Alabama, said "...the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice." Tonight, I am thankful to be living on the far side of that arc as well as the globe. And if her school is a series of arcs, well...that's just perfect.

And So It Began (A Christmas Season Retroblog)

Ah, December. My old nemesis, we meet again.

So pretty. So innocent. So calm and bright. SO DECEPTIVE.

Once again, I have been thoroughly defeated by the sheer unrelenting grind of birthday/birthday/holiday/birthday/holiday. Fortunately, it's a battle I don't mind losing because instead of nasty things like wounds and gangrene and post traumatic stress, we get lots of pictures and memories and family time. Oh, and presents. Those are nice too. The end result is much the same though, as January usually finds me locked into a quiet room, hunkered down with chocolates and a fat book, pretending that I do not own a phone or a computer, waving a white flag.

The biggest irony of blogging is that the busier you are, the more you want to record what is happening, and yet the less you have the capacity to do so. I'm quickly coming into acceptance of a new tradition: the January retroblog. We took a few weeks to recover, and here I am, attempting to retroblog no less than 570 pictures and about 571 memories. Don't worry, I won't share all of them. Just, you know, half of them. That seems reasonable.

In all seriousness, I thought I would just cut them up into smaller chunks and dole them out over the next few weeks. No one...by which I mean "me"...has the patience to page through tons of pictures saying things like "Opening Presents" for half an hour.

Without further ado, your first chunk. Sounds appealing, doesn't it? And yes, I did consider becoming a poet, but ultimately decided it would bring me too much fame and notoriety. I didn't want to sell out to the man.

So, it all began with tree decorating. Tim and I wanted to make it an event this year. We didn't do a tree last year, since we were headed to NC and then to Florida for three months. This year, we had hot cider and chocolate, Christmas carols, and a lovely fresh tree. Which I killed pretty quickly by forgetting to water it. But that was later.

Addie really got into everything. She wanted pictures with all her ornaments.

A good example of the "Mom, take a picture of me with THIS ornament" genre

She then proceeded to place all of her ornaments in basically the exact same place on the tree. Right at her eye level on one side. Any tactful suggestion to spread them out was immediately shot down. Every night Tim and I would redistribute only to have her move them back the next day. Sister knows what she likes.

Please notice the short sleeved shirt. I usually lay out a short sleeved shirt to (theoretically) go under a long shirt for layering purposes. The difficulty here is that Addie usually prefers her t shirts to her sweaters, so we end up with a lot of seasonally inappropriate clothing. Nothing says "Christmas" like cherries, I guess.  We've finally wised up and started buying only plain grey, white, and black shirts for layering.

Clustering, for the win!

 Graydon could have cared less about the whole process. He found one glittery train ornament and played with it all night. He did a surprisingly good job not breaking anything, and when I say "surprising", I actually mean downright shocking, because he usually wreaks havoc like a Texas twister.

In this picture, the train has found a sled ornament, which is now his "track". Pretty creative, I thought.

It's unfortunate that he's so shy.

I attempted to take a sibling picture of them in their jammies after it was all done, but yeah, it didn't work out. "Look at me, ok, smile!!! Or, yeah, you could just wrestle, that's fine."

Best shot of the series. All the others are just a blur of flailing limbs.

The very next day Ads had her preschool Christmas program. She'd been diligently practicing her "songs" for several weeks, mainly consisting of bursting into loud "HAAAAA LAY LOOO YAH!"s randomly and with great feeling, since they were singing the "Hallelujah" chorus from Handel's Messiah in part of the program. When I was in preschool I think we might have sung "Jingle Bells", but today's children are just way cooler than we were.

So, apparently, this is a big dress up occasion. I did not get this memo.

Here is my child, front and center. In her jeans.

I did think about it, and in fact, texted my friend Jen before the program to ask her if they were supposed to wear a certain color. I thought it was a little weird that they hadn't asked us to dress them all in red or green or whatever the hot color scheme of the moment might be. She said "I'm just dressing Calum in a reddish plaid shirt and his cords" so I thought "OK, yeah, I'll do a red shirt". I guess this is like one of those things that is so obvious they don't explain it, kind of like "Don't wear jeans to your wedding" or suchlike moments. 

To make matters worse, not only was my sweet girl totally underdressed, but I was late. Tim left for a conference in Colorado that day and I just couldn't get out the door in time by myself. So I had to literally RUN Addie into the school, catch the line before they filed in, and shove her into it. While carrying Graydon. And being pregnant. And swaddled in outdoor clothes because it was a balmy 10 out, which meant I then started streaming sweat from the combined effects of the subtropical heat of the school and stress. So I was super relaxed and ready to enjoy the evening ...or not...which wouldn't have mattered except poor Addie was terrified and didn't really understand what we were doing.

This is her filing into the auditorium, biting her nails, because she is nervous and has no idea what is going on.

 This wasn't my absolute nadir as a parent, sadly, but it didn't feel great. I felt like I set Addie up for a bad situation, because I know she needs time to relax and adjust and I didn't give her that. And I felt like an idiot for having the only girl child in jeans in the place. And because we were late, she was last in line, which meant she was front and center. She spent the entire time nervously twisting around to observe other kids. Except for the times she was picking her nose. It was about a 50/50 split, I'd say. I was so proud.

So much more interested in the other kids than in performing. Don't worry, I won't post pictures of her other activity.

Reliving this still makes me cringe, but I thought I would share because this was a milestone of sorts, and also because FYI PARENTS Christmas pageants are dress up occasions. I tried to give myself a pep talk like "Hey, ok, she's underdressed, no big deal! It's not her prom, right? And who are you trying to impress anyway? No one cares! All kids pick their noses sometimes. It will add a note of authenticity to the videos!" Then I just gave up on self pep talk and wished fervently for some red wine ...this was a theme throughout December, by the way.

With her friends and classmates, Calum, Briella, and Halle. I'm pretty sure Addie was upset at me too ;-)

Instead of drinking wine, I went home and made about 6 dozen cookies for the annual "Bone Wives n Hominy" Christmas cookie exchange the next day. Because 1) I'm pregnant and 2) I procrastinate. After a stressful and embarrassing evening, it is always therapeutic to bake enormous amounts of cookies to be given to other people, incidentally all extremely skilled chefs,  whilst simultaneously attempting to put two wild and overstimulated children to bed by yourself. I highly recommend this for your next frazzled state.

A small sample of the deliciousness

The good news is that sugar makes an excellent substitute for alcohol, and I had lots of yummy treats to eat after that gathering. I drowned my embarrassment in cookies and milk, and it was good that we had lots, because I wasn't quite done striking out yet with Addie and school. 

Lots of her friends go to the same preschool. Addie goes to the afternoon session on Tuesday and Thursday and some of her friends came to the cookie exchange in their pajamas because it was "Pajama Day" at preschool. I had NO idea this was happening, but knowing me, that's not really shocking. I mentally shrugged and sent Addie off to school in a pair of zip up footie pajamas with snowflakes and ice skaters on them. Only to see all the other kids in her class in regular clothes and her teacher looking slightly confused upon seeing Addie. I tried explaining "Oh, some of her friends at a playdate said it was Pajama Day..." and trailed off in feeble silence while Mrs. Batterson laughed in sympathy and explained that was only for the 5 year old class. Oh. OK. Well, that's cool. Not only did I send Addie to her pageant in jeans, I also sent her to school the next day in pajamas. At 12:30 in the afternoon. Like I just couldn't quite summon the energy to dress my child that day.

Thank heavens I can laugh about it now, because of course December got so much easier after that. I only had to plan two birthday parties, start finish Christmas preparations, do the holidays with Tim's family, and then host my family's visit. Easy peasy for an organized and efficient person. Like me. I would say those are the top two words that people use to describe me.*

Yeah. I ate a lot of cookies that month. 

*If you don't know me, this is not true at all. Once I was bemoaning my chronic lack of organization and my friend Jen very sweetly and tactfully said "Well, Tara, I would say you're of a more artistic mindset". And there you have it.

First Day of School!

As the post title suggests, today was Addie's very first day of school EVER, which is kind of a BIG DEAL, at least in my mind.

Her choice of outfit for today included special "glitter shoes" and a dress my sister Des got for her

 She was incredibly excited, so much so that she put on her backpack about an hour before we left. She grudgingly let me snap a few pictures, but was really too excited to care much about hamming it up for the camera.

 A grudging "Cheese" followed by "Mom, can we go?"

We had gone to visit her classroom and meet her teacher last week, and she remembered the entire drill. She found her hook, hung up her backpack and went straight into class without a single backward glance at me. I was so proud of her, even as I was a little sad for me. She is so ready for independence and for learning, and it is really harder for me to admit that it's time to let her take those first steps away from me than it is for her to take them.

Her choice of backpack: penguin!

Meeting up with BFF, Calum, before school. They are in the same class.

Rather than subject the world to my handwriting, I just asked Ads some questions today. The whole "chalkboard" thing is awesome and Pinterest worthy, but only if your handwriting doesn't look untied shoelaces.

So, for posterity, an interview with Addie, faithfully transcribed (minus only my laughter):

Addie Ewald 09/05/2013
Mrs. Batterson's T/R "Creative 3s" class

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up? 
Addie: A kid.

Me: A kid? Well, by definition, you'll be an adult when you're grown up. I was thinking more about what kind of job you wanted to do when you were big.
Addie: I want a job where I'm a kid.

Me: OK then. What are you most excited about learning?
Addie: How to drive

Me: Is there anything that worries you about school?
Addie: No, not really.

Me: Well, that's good. I'm so excited for you. Are you ready to go get some knowledge?
Addie: What's knowledge?

Me: Oh, you know, just information about the world around us.
Addie: What's the world around us?

Me: Um, well, the things we see...cars, people, buildings, plants, animals.
Addie:What are animals?

Me: OK, now you're just being silly.
Addie: What's silly?

After school, I asked her how things went and she said "Mom, it was very frustrating." I was concerned/confused and asked her why, and she said "Mom, I'm just really slow and tired. Can I go lay on the couch and watch a movie?" My daughter, the 13 year old  the 3 year old.

 I'm choosing to believe that it drained her, and she was just surly because she was over stimulated, but maybe it really was frustrating. When I think back to the first few days of a new job, it often IS frustrating to learn the ropes and the codes of a new place. It's not so much because the learning process is arduous, it's just because the feeling of being at sea until you've got it all down can be upsetting. 

I've spent so much time in school (21 years, I do believe, which makes me kind of gag/cry/laugh) that it's like second nature to me to fall into classroom mode. But I had to learn all of those things and that's what she's working on this year. I had kind of forgotten that you have to learn how to walk quietly in a hallway, how to sit and listen respectfully to classmates, how to take instructions from other adults, and how to function on your own in a new space and setting. It's good for her, and hopefully both the crazy excitement and frustration will soon smooth out into quiet enjoyment and a lifelong love of learning. Or maybe she won't be interested until they get to the driving part of the nursery school curriculum. We shall see.

"Oh, the places you'll go! "