Lighting June 16, 2009

When we arrived at our new apartment in Tokyo last August, I was horrified to discover that all of the lights in our apartment are fluorescent. As in the sort of lights that have the ability to highlight under eye circles and make you seriously question how you look in your favorite jeans (which I did manage to zip up today, without even lying down – they didn’t look so pretty, but they were on!).

I have since learned that fluorescent lighting is the standard for Japanese homes, and that they call our warmer, more subtle lighting “yellow.” I suppose they do have something in the fact that it is more energy efficient, but blech.

I clearly stated upon arrival that we would be putting in nice and friendly “yellow” lighting all over our apartment. We never really got around to that being busy with baby and all (and because we’re a bit cheapo). Maybe with the good lighting, though, I would have been a bit more pleased with my figure in my skinny jeans.

Though, I’m pretty sure that the lighting didn’t have much to do with the almost total lack of circulation in the mid-region of my body while said jeans were on.

And a not so auspicious start… June 15, 2009

Well, I intended to write each day until we leave, but I have been stricken with another bout of mastitis (if you don’t know what that is, its a boob infection, and yes, it is totally as fun as it sounds).

So now that the fever has somewhat dissipated, I am back to the original game plan. Which leads me nicely into today’s topic – our adventures in medicine!

The birth story has already been written, and I can’t say enough about the wonderful people at the Toho Women’s Clinic. Plus, they are always very helpful with the boob issues, too. But enough about that. We are lucky enough to have an English speaking Pediatrician just a three-minute walk from our house, and we have made good use of his proximity since Matilda has joined our family. Sometimes for the occasional cough or runny nose, and our regular checkups…sometimes for worries that many new parents experience when they put their child’s clothes in a dresser that was found on the street, and all of the clothes take on a strong scent of mothball. (In our defense, it totally did not start smelling like mothball until 4 days after we’d brought it into the apartment, and we even took it into our handy Japanese shower room and hosed the living daylights out of it before putting Mati’s clothes in there. Despite several of these hosings down, the dresser is still quite useless and smells like my grandma’s attic.) It’s a learning curve sometimes, people. Yeah, so Dr. ? is pretty good. Of course, I can’t remember his name, and his card has his name written in Kanji so you can forget my being able to read it.

We’ve been really fortunate here with the Japanese National Health Care System, and except for the fact that they don’t cover preventative medicinal procedures or CHILDBIRTH, Matilda is covered until she is 6, and we can go visit Dr. ? as much as we want!

Finally perhaps the most frightening experience here so far was when Matilda had her first cold, and I needed to get some saline drops so that I could moisten things up before using that bulby snot sucker thing. The drugstore only had menthol nose drops, so the pharmacist made us go to the Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor, which is just in the building next door (you don’t really seem to need appointments a lot of the time, which is nice). Well, no one really spoke English, so we just kept pointing at Matilda and her stuffy nose, and they sent us into see the doctor. She had me hold Matilda on my lap, and then, quick as lighting, blew a big load of saline up Mati’s nose, and used a super-powered hydraulic snot sucker. Matilda was not pleased if you can imagine. But it did clean her out very well. Then the doctor smiled at me, and charged me 100¥ ($1) for the little bottle of saline solution.

Of course, I am lacking in the lightning fast snot sucking skills, and never did quite achieve the level of success as the ENT doc. And I just have the lame-o rubber bulb. I wonder how much her machine costs?

19 days and (sort of) counting… June 12, 2009

So I used to write on my old blog (jelly-doughnut.blogspot.com) quite a lot, while living as a single girl in Berlin. Now that I’m all married with a baby, I seem to have less time on my hands. And I’ve been introduced to Facebook, which has the capacity to making blogging seem redundant. Hence, I have not written a thing on this blog in about 6 months! Therefore, so all of my quirky memories of this quirky country don’t float completely out of my head, I’ve decided to try to write a post for the last 19 days we are here in Tokyo. I have no clue if anyone ever reads this blog – and honestly, the little ticker on the side of the page means much less to me than the ticker on my Germany blog did. For the most part I am doing this to get back to writing every day – and to preserve these funny memories for my feeble mind. Apparently I have now become afflicted with a severe neurological disease known as “mom” brain. It is real. It exists. And I have it big time. I can’t remember diddly. In fact, twice I have left the house without diapers (having placed them next to the diaper bag before leaving the house, but never having had placed the diapers into the bag itself). Luckily, a friend was able to pinch hit with a couple of spare nappies to tide us through.

Anyway, I’m not going to write about baby stuff – unless it is weird or interesting Japanese baby stuff. I mean, if you know me, you have already likely been subjected to endless photos and info about my daughter, and if you don’t know me, well, why would you really care if my daughter prefers sweet potatoes to bananas (bananas, of course!). Segue…

Baby food in Japan is a bit different than our good old Gerber in the US. They do have the requisite banana and applesauce, but also have adventurous (to me, anyway) flavors like “Flatfish with seaweed” and “Sardines with rice and root vegetables.” Plus, it is bloody expensive! One jar is about $1.30, and that is the tiny jar, not the big one. However, upon attempting to make our own baby food, and having Matilda spew it all over the table because we do not own a fancy high-powered blender capable of creating the smooth purees her refined palate requires, we trucked over to the International Food Market to buy foreign baby food. We bought enough to last us until the end of the year (25 days supply) and it cost around $65.

She’s an expensive little monkey. See you tomorrow…

The Big Day December 14, 2008

NOTE: I started this when I was in the hospital…4 weeks ago!  I am just starting to get back in the swing of things.  Matilda is fabulous, and isn’t much of a crier – she has her moments, but can be calmed down in about 10 minutes max.  Not bad.  Keep your fingers crossed that she keeps it up!  Now, the story of how she came into the world…

I’m the kind of person who sometimes needs to know when something is going to END.  When I used to run 5ks, I always had one eye out for the finish line, and the other on my digital timer, constantly gauging exactly how much further I had to go.  And no, I did not go cross-eyed from this practice, though I can see why one might think that.

I didn’t love being pregnant, didn’t hate it, but I admit this last month was a bit tedious.  I was a stay-at-home mom with no mommying to do, and I could not find one freaking position to sleep in that did not irritate one part or another of my body.  I hated leaving the house, as I often would be the subject of abject staring.  On account of the gigantic belly.  Refer to Godzilla post below if you are not getting what I am talking about.  Plus, I was just waiting…wondering…waiting…

Then at midnight, on Sunday, November 16th, it all began.  A cramp here, and then 5 minutes later, another one, and then 5 minutes later another…you get the picture.  I found a nifty online contraction timer that helped me decide if it was worth treating as real labor, you can check it out here, but I am not sure how much fun it would be without having any contractions to time.  It wasn’t much fun even with the contractions, though I did like the red flashing light it showed during the contraction’s duration…like “Danger, danger, severe pain approaching.”

After timing the contractions for about 2 hours, we decided it was the real deal, and called the clinic to warn them of our impending arrival.  I did this in a robotic voice, reading the Japanese from a sheet I had prepared for this occasion.  The nurse responded to me in Japanese, so I have no idea what she said, and interpreted it as “Come on down!”

Since we are only a 20-minute walk from the clinic, we decided to stroll instead of taking a taxi, as I thought it would help get my mind off of things.  Of course, we had to pause every 5 minutes, as walking had become too difficult while my insides were compressing, but eventually we rolled our suitcase on in at 3:30am.

They hooked me up to one of those lovely contraction measurement machines, and Jordi was able to watch as the contractions grew stronger and progressed.  I got checked, and the midwife gave the rather disappointing news that I had dilated only 2 cm, which meant I had 8 more to go…and 8 cm is only accomplished by having lots more contractions.

It must be noted, that the Japanese as a whole do not believe in pain relief during labor, believing (correctly) that it slows things down, and also believing (a matter of opinion) that the natural course of things is the best way to proceed.  So going into the birth, I knew pain relief was not an option, and I honestly did want to see what the real birthing experience was about…I did.

In short, the contractions progressed from bothersome, to painful, to unbearable during the first 11 hours of labor.  It was during the unbearable stage, when they were 2 minutes long with only a minute to rest between, that the midwife informed me that she believed I still had 5 to 6 hours to go before the baby would be born.  My reaction?  Tears.  And a big freak out.  I flatly stated that I would not survive another 6 hours of these contractions, and that we needed to figure out a way to move things along.  The midwife looked confused.  Jordi patiently explained to me that we really couldn’t do much about the timing, and that it was going to take as long as it was going to take.  I disagreed, and said that I was going to get this ordeal finished in sooner than 6 hours.  I’m not quite sure how I managed to accomplish this, I’d like to say I used visualization techniques, practiced my breathing, or some other yogi type inspiration, but basically I just screamed in agonizing pain for the next hour, and the midwife said: “Okay, baby come now.” And down to the birthing room we went.  Along the way, I kept asking her: “By ‘Baby come now’ you mean I am about finished, right?  Like it is time to push this baby out, right?  Is that what you mean?”  “Yes,” she said.  She looked at me a bit strangely, and in retrospect, I can completely see why.

So sparing the gory details, an hour later, Matilda Aiko entered the world…not into a silent, tranquil world, but one in which her mother was bellowing like a water buffalo and her father was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste by her aforementioned bellowing mother.  But the second she was out, they plopped her on my chest (the kangaroo care thing) and we had almost an hour together before we were sent back up to our room.

The past four weeks have been a mix of amazing happiness, exhaustion, tears, and a lot of laughing at the gastrointestinal performances of our new daughter.  I highly recommend it!

Below are a few photos of Miss Matilda:

baby born December 4, 2008

no time.

must type one handed.

more later…

happy happy happy!

oh yes…name: matilda aiko

Waiting November 13, 2008

Yeah, so first babies are supposed to be late…and this one hits a week overdue as of tomorrow.  I’m pretty over the whole pregnant thing at this point.  I’m even more over the looks I get from the teeny Japanese people when I exit my apartment building.  I suppose in my green fleece that I can no longer even come close to zipping closed, they must think I am channeling Godzilla.

It’s all baby, people.  All baby.

Mostly baby.

A little bit ice cream.

Indiana Blue! November 6, 2008

I don’t think I have ever been happier or more proud of my fellow Hoosiers, who for the first time since 1964, have helped put a Democrat in the White House.

Well done.

I would wax poetic far longer about the historical election yesterday (and about how I was bit over the top emotionally – let’s just blame it on the hormones), but I am now typing only with my right hand, as my left has decided to cease function as part of some form of pregnancy carpal tunnel issue.  So effective typing skills (something I pride myself on) are no longer.  On the upside, I am also incapable of doing the dishes!

It should go away shortly after delivery, according to what I’ve managed to read about it.  If not, looks like one-handed diaper changing will have to be added to the list of mom skills I’ll need to master.

XL November 1, 2008

The people here are teeny.  Not like dwarves or anything, but they are very petite for the most part.  My husband and I wonder at how they maintain their size, since we often see them wolfing down fresh doughnuts and pastries when we go to the market, and there is a proliferation of sweets and sugary sodas available at the many convenience stores and the 8 billion vending machines on every corner.  Most of which do not offer diet soda, I might add.

But I had heard that Asians were smaller than us European or American-bred women, so grabbing the large size off the rack wasn’t such a shock.  I need the large to fit my linebacker shoulders (I’m actually not that largely built myself, but compared to these ladies I could be a member of the Chicago Bears starting lineup).  Unfortunately, things that fit my shoulder area well tend to be too roomy elsewhere, so it looks like I will keep clothes buying to a minimum during our stay here.  Clothes buying I can live without.

Shoes, on the other hand…or foot…

These people also have small feet.  Cute footwear, for the most part, but really small feet.

I wear the biggest size in the store, and it is still a bit snug.  Of course, I have total pregnancy feet right now, which will hopefully deflate once baby is here.  If not…

I will just have to find the big lady’s shoe shop.  I can live without a fresh influx of sweater fashion, but new shoes are a must for mental health boosts!

Of course, there’s always handbags…

Sushi Chefs October 22, 2008

Yesterday, Jordi and I attempted to make our first sushi.  Though most Japanese women continue to eat raw fish during their pregnancies, I’m still waiting until after the baby is born to indulge.  It is difficult to resist, however, when I see those yummy slices of tuna and salmon all packaged up at the supermarket.

My main method of instruction for our sushi making was videos from Youtube.  They were very helpful in learning how to properly prepare sushi rice, and how to roll up your sushi before slicing and eating.

When we tried it ourselves, we were fairly confident we had the hang of it.

In fact, our sushi turned out pretty well for our first effort, but it didn’t really stay together the way the professional stuff does (read: it totally fell apart when I tried to cut it, and the ones that did stay together sort of looked more mashed and oblong than beautiful round sushi pieces).  But they tasted good for the most part.  There was something lacking, we agreed.  And the rice was a bit too chewy (perhaps because we just used the regular brown Japanese rice instead of buying real sushi rice?).  I’m not entirely sure I used enough vinegar on the rice either.  I was too worried about ruining the rice by making it taste like Easter Egg dye.

If anyone out there has any hints, suggestions, or good websites to check out to improve our sushi making, please share!  Until then, we will keep scoping out the supermarket sushi around markdown time in the evenings!

And the doctor said the baby could show up any day now…which means the real sushi is not too far off.  Yippee!

Fast Food Nation October 12, 2008

Admittedly, Jordi and I have been hitting McDonald’s more frequently than in the past.  For us, it is comforting to find food that we know, understand, and can identify…and no, it is not so healthy, but we do get a happy feeling that only McDonald’s fries can supply.  (By the way, frequently is about once every two weeks, so no worries, Mom.)

Fast food is fairly abundant here in Tokyo – some places are familiar, like McDonald’s, Wendy’s, and Subway.  Though even these familiar friends have their Japanese twist.  McDonald’s features a cheeseburger with a half-cooked egg on top, along with a shiny plasticky orange sauce.   Wendy’s has an eggplant-tomato topped burger.  And no Frosty!!!!!!  Criminal.  What am I supposed to dip my fries in?  Plain ketchup?  Of course, the standards are pretty much there as well.  And happily, they taste exactly the same.

Other fast-food joints are more Japanese, with their wares showcased in the restaurant windows as not terribly appetizing plastic displays.  And most have some sort of fried pork cutlet component or barely cooked egg (seriously, don’t they have salmonella here?) as a major ingredient…hence, our visits to Mickey D’s when we are out and about.  No raw eggs when you’re prego!  And for me at least – no fried pork cutlets ever.  Blech.

Upon arrival, we had several odd adventures eating Japanese fast food, but being unable to identify all the ingredients, and neither being fans of undercooked eggs, either here, there, or anywhere (eeeew, slimy), we now rarely venture beyond tempura, sushi, and bowls of noodle soup.  We did have a couple of good laughs at some of the meals we ordered…sometimes, when food is selected from a plastic showcase it can be misinterpreted – and let’s just leave it at that.

They even have Denny’s restaurants here.  I was so anticipating a Moons Over My Hammy sandwich yesterday, that I practically ran up the stairs…only to discover that Denny’s Japan is not quite the same.

They do not serve breakfast all day.

No Pancakes!

No diner food whatsoever…

On the menu?  Pork cutlets.  Undercooked eggs.  Rice.

I did not get my Moons Over My Hammy.  But I did have a salad with big delicious chunks of avocado.  A bonus: thankfully, the egg in the salad was cooked.

The bacon which sat atop said salad?  Not cooked.  Raw bacon?  Haven’t they heard of E. Coli?  Trichinosis?  Fire?

At least it wasn’t a pork cutlet.

That would have really sent me over the edge.