our first duet in public

We often sing together at home. We dance. We act. We make up stories. We imagine stuff together. But mostly we sing together.

Last Saturday, when I received our choir director’s email for the Sunday mass’ songs and saw “Once in Royal David’s City” was on the list, I asked you if you’d like to sing solo the first part. Surprisingly, you said yes. On the condition that I sing with you, and that you’ll be standing as far away from the crowd as possible so they wouldn’t see you. I promised you I’ll sing with you, but that I couldn’t on the latter part.

As if teasing you, when we arrived at Church the following morning, the choir chairs were rearranged such that everyone in the choir is facing the congregation. Tough luck. (For the record, this is that time when our masses are held at the basement because the church is under renovation) Thankfully, you forgot this “hidden away from the crowd” condition. While we were practicing another song, you went ahead and sang the first lines of Once in Royal David’s City, reminding me that you were determined to sing. Hence I informed our director. Hats off to him though. He still pushed with our idea even when the two times we practiced, you can barely be heard. He just told me to sing louder in case you still get shy.

But I needn’t sing louder though. Because as always, you are so much better during actual performance compared to practices. I’ve noticed this even when you were still in kindergarten. It’s quite tricky though, because the one who gives you the job needs to have faith in you first for you to have the job. But what a performer you are. You stood erect, looked really confident, and you even had the presence of mind to turn the page. You were marvellous. I couldn’t turn the page myself because half of me was performing and the other half was the “stage mom” looking at how you are doing; quite a feat I tell you.

Now you see, you’ve been quite notorious as the one who always sleeps at church during mass. So everyone was quite surprised to see you sing. People came to you to try and talk to you and compliment you. Unfortunately, we didn’t practice yet on how you should deal with “fame”. You clung unto me like jellyfish and hid your face from everyone else. Well, that would be another day’s lesson, dealing with “fame”.

For now, thank you for taking the leap, and for taking the leap with me. It made my heart full.

a tribute to the old, hello new one

It was sad to see you go. As you walked past me, I actually had to touch you as I said bye; prompting an understanding laugh from the two men hauling you. You’ve been a lot of help in this nine years. But it has been a very difficult and troublesome 8 months, as age has caught up with you. Nevertheless, thank you. And hope some of your parts could still be used.

Hello there, new one. The dinosaur age in me had some trouble getting you run on our first batch of laundry. But I am very confident we’ll get along really well. Here’s to great times!

life with a grade schooler: leader!

Was telling you last night how I’d be late in coming home because I had to attend an important party with our Clients and that in my Company, only the leaders in my project were invited.

With wide and proud eyes, you exclaimed, “Mommy, you are leader?”

Even at pre-school, you’ve always been proud whenever it was your turn to be the leader. And from the snippets that I’ve seen, you’ve been a fine leader so far. We’re gonna have lots of talks yet of what it takes to be a leader and the struggles and joys of being one (and for the record I’m still a work-in-progress myself). But for the mean time, I relished at the marvel in your face upon learning your Mom is a leader. I wanted to instil that in you. And I wanted you to think, even at a young age, that mothers can make their mark in conservative Japan corporate culture. There are a lot of struggles as the corporate culture is still changing to accommodate us Moms. But we’re getting there, baby. And I hope you’ll be encouraged too, and inspired, and be a trailblazer.

life with a grade schooler: Wisdom beyond your years

Late last night, I told you how I had a tough day and how my boss rudely scolded me in front of the whole project team because of a (minor) mistake done by one of my subordinates.

With an indignant huff, you said you cannot understand this. That I should tell my boss today that another person’s mistake is not my mistake.

My child, please do not loose that fire.

Life with a grade schooler: on abiding by the rules even when nobody sees you

So we tackled a critical life lesson this week.

There’s this school rule to never bring toys to school, beloved or otherwise, big or small. Then the other night, you tried your might to convince me to allow you to bring your latest favourite – a teeny weeny figure of Cinnamon that came free inside a bath ball (which, by the way, you were able to convince me to buy for you after a year of “NOs”).

Me: You know you’re not allowed to bring toys to school.

Yui: Why is it not allowed by the way?

Me: Because other kids could bring really good toys which are expensive and other kids could get jealous because they could not afford it. Or kids could fight over one toy. Or it could get broken. Or get lost.

Yui: K-chan (your friend at your after-school care) brings her toys.

Me: How come she’s able to bring it?

Yui: She puts it in her edou-pocket (a small clip-on pouch). I can do the same. I can put it in my edou-pocket and will not take it out at school and will not show Sensei and will hide it from other kids.

Me: Yui, now listen. You know there’s a rule to follow. The important thing with rules is to follow it even when no one is looking, even when no one sees you, even when no one knows. Because more importantly, you know. That’s character, that’s integrity, that’s honesty (now this last sentence I’m not totally sure you understood).

Yui: But how come K-chan brings her toys when nobody sees her?

Me: Well, you should ask her, and remind her that it’s not good to disobey rule even when nobody sees you.

Lo and behold you raised the topic again last night.

Yui: I asked K-chan why she disobeyed and brought her toys. She said she’s always in a hurry in the mornings “Shikoku da, shikoku da”, that she forgets to put back her toys out of her edou-pocket. It’s not intentional.

Me: oh, okay, thank you for reminding her.

And then you went off to play and left me to my kitchen chores.

But the suspicious adult in me didn’t buy K-chan’s alibi. Especially since the toys are different, every day. And of course I cannot tell you of my suspicions. That’ll be another lesson for the day. In the mean time however, I will have to ask more about your conversations with K-chan.