Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Mimi, I'm Home!

I never understood just how special coming home can be at the end of a hard day until I quit my job. 

Back in NYC, both Sumie and I worked, but my hours, which included the GW Bridge and Manhattan street parking, were often a bit longer.  It was a rare day that I beat Mimi and Sumie and home.  And so, coming through our apartment door to squeals of excited giggling, and later shouts of "Papa!", became an integral, and cherished, part of my daily routine.  Granted, Mimi couldn't run to the door back then, but she sure could scoot to it! 

It was always a highlight for me.  Sumie got a kick out of it too, but I think it also made her just a little sad.  Mimi never greeted her with the same excitement, the same uncontrolled, giggly abandon with which she welcomed home her Papa.  And she saw him through the door by name.  Mimi had yet, at that time, to utter "Mama." 

Times change.  And they change remarkably fast when you're living with a toddler.  Today, it's Sumie who receives all the affection at the door. 

Each night the routine is roughly same.  Mimi and I will either be playing in the living room,
cooking dinner in the kitchen, or playing separately, Mimi with her toys and me with my laptop (ah, a little bit of peace). 
There are two signals that announce Sumie's arrival.  If she took the bus, Mimi will hear the slam of the outside security gate and immediately perk to attention.  When Sumie comes home with the car, thus needing to open the garage door, Mimi's reaction is even stronger and more immediate.  Shouts of "Mama, Mama!" start pouring out of what may have been, up to that point, a quite docile little girl.  The garage door and Sumie coming home are so closely associated in Mimi's mind that whenever she hears it, such as when our landlord comes over to work on the back yard, she immediately starts asking me for Mama.   

Once Sumie gets into the foyer, which is downstairs from the rest of the house, the barking begins.  I'm not quite sure how this habit started.  One night, probably because Mimi loves dogs, Sumie began barking to announce her arrival.  Mimi responds in kind.  Quite loudly.  I'm beginning to wonder if the neighbors think we have a dog.

As the video below shows, Sumie's arrival home is the highlight of Mimi's day.  I have a feeling it's the highlight of Sumie's as well.  Two things to note about the video.  First, you'll notice that Mimi is shirtless.  This is not for lack of trying to clothe the child.  For a full hour we were engaged in a fierce "shirt battle."  This time, perhaps because I didn't resort to a onesie, Mimi won.  The house was nice and warm, at least.  The second thing to note is Mimi's new word, "denwa."  It means phone in Japanese and is one of the most beloved words in Mimi's growing vocabulary.  Now whenever a phone rings she yells it out.  "DENWA!"  It's like returning to the days before cell phones.  I still remember the phone ringing as a kid and, not being allowed to answer it, shouting out, "Phone!" at the top of my lungs, as if the phone weren't loud enough.  Maybe that's a universal. 
And what does Mimi do when I come home?  I'm lucky if I get so much as a shrug.  This is, of course, to be expected.  I'm home with Mimi all day, playing, giggling, getting into trouble, having a good time.  Why would she be pleased to see me at the door?   She's also forgotten my name.  Just as she wouldn't say "Mama" in NYC, she's now forgotten how to say "Papa."  I guess that comes with being there all the time.  At least Mimi will still point to me when Sumie asks her, "Where's Papa?" 

You may think I'd be disappointed by this, but I'm not.  Not really.  I get to spend all day with Mimi.  While that can have its downsides and frustrations, it has been, without doubt, the best thing Sumie and I could've done for her.  She's more confident, more outgoing, better behaved (relatively), and, somewhat ironically, ready for daycare again.  This time I think she'll actually enjoy it. 

And how do I feel about Mimi's excitement over Sumie coming home each night?  That, too, I wouldn't change, despite an occasional twinge of jealousy.  I remember how hard it was to be away from my little girl and how her excitement when I came home made the workday, beyond doubt, worthwhile.  I want Sumie to have that, to revel in that.  At the end of a long day, there's nothing better. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

A Table for Mimi, a Desk for Papa

At the back of our home here in San Francisco is a sun room.  It's small, cold, quiet, and lined with windows.  The perfect place for a humble home office.  And with Mimi soon attending daycare twice a week, I'd need a place where I could start writing in earnest.  There was just one problem: no desk. 

Mimi, with her developing fine motor skills, was facing a similar situation.  She'd discovered a love of drawing, but apart from our coffee table, which I'd like to keep somewhat clean, she had nowhere to put crayon to paper.  She needed a kid's table.  I needed a desk.  Both stat. 

But where to go?  In these pages I'd previously written that we'd only be purchasing furniture we'd keep "for the long term."  And while I continue to feel that way, I've softened a bit on certain items.  I still want to find that perfect desk someday, but I've recently realized that I didn't want finding the best furniture to keep me from having a home office.  And when it came to Mimi's table, well, she's just going to destroy it anyway.  Lastly, with paying off debt from the move and saving up for a car, it was time to go on the cheap.  And so it was time to go to Ikea. 

Mimi's table, though a pain in the butt to put together, has been a huge hit.  She absolutely adores it.  From the moment the table stood on its own four legs, well before I'd even finished with the first chair, she knew it was hers.  She'd pound on it lovingly, both hands coming down, open-palmed, on the white top to shrieks of excitement.  Once the chairs were made, Mimi sat herself down and got right to work. 
 Of course, being Mimi, she soon decided that a change was needed.  Apparently, the table would be far more enjoyable off the carpet and in the middle of the living room.  And so, Mimi began to move the chairs. 
With the chairs in place, she then had a go at the table.  This proved a little much for Mimi, despite her massive determination.  Her plan thwarted, she shunned the table, grabbed her artwork, and set off to continue her masterpiece on the chairs alone. 
This lasted about 20 seconds. 
With the chairs back in place, Mama helped Mimi get back to work. 
All told, I think Mimi was pretty satisfied with her artwork.  And with our purchase.  As I've been writing this, Mimi's been coloring at her table (and on it), interspersing her crayon strokes with kisses for what she's drawn.  For me, that's twenty dollars well spent. 
And my home office?  It's nothing spectacular, but it's functional, and that's all I need.  The table supports my laptop, the chair supports my butt (somehow), and I finally have a workspace of my own. 
Hopefully, over the coming months, the walls will become peppered with research for stories.  I'm looking forward to it. 

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Thanksgiving and an Exceedingly Lazy Saturday

The past several weeks have been, to say the least, busy.  Between my sister and her family coming last weekend, a surprise visit from Sumie's mother, Thanksgiving, and Sumie being on call, downtime has been a very precious, and very scant, commodity.  Perhaps that's why, despite the sunshine and it being unseasonably warm, we've yet to leave the house this Saturday.

Last Thursday was my first time to have Thanksgiving back at home for 10 years.  I'd missed it.  My mother's side of the family had always made a rather grand production of Turkey Day and the tradition has continued.  It has also grown.  With the expanding family, it's no longer just my mother's siblings and my cousins.  Chatting with my step-brother, we both remarked that it was now nearly impossible to point out the exact familial relationships.  There was no, "That's your cousin, so-and-so," or "Say hello to your great uncle what's-his-name."  We were all simply on a first name basis.  I suppose that's what happens when the dinner party reaches 50+.

The event was held in "The Cabana," the neighborhood recreation hall that is part of the community pool.  My mother and her husband Randy had helped to upgrade the building years back and, with all the improvements and the growing Thanksgiving attendance, shifted Thanksgiving from the home to the hall while I was back in NYC.  I still don't know how my Mom and Randy pulled off cooking for over 50 people, but they did it.  And in fantastic fashion. 
Mimi enjoyed the food.  I think she even got a bit of a "Turkey High." 
She finished off early, though, and then demanded her bottle.  Here she is sucking down some milk while mowing the tile.  Sumie, who had been on call, sneaked in shortly after this picture was taken.  I wish that I could have gotten Mimi's reaction.  For Mimi, Mama showing up was definitely the highlight of the day.
There were three highlights for me this Thanksgiving.  First off, it was wonderful to finally connect with my cousins again, after so many years on the east coast.  I'm not sure why it had been so hard to do so before, but this familiar family gathering - a shared experience for all of us going back even further than we can remember - made it happen.  Secondly, this was Mimi's first Thanksgiving with my side of the family.  And she did pretty much the same thing I would've done at her age in the past: play with cousins, eat a little, and make a mess. 

Lastly, there was nothing more entertaining that evening than watching Mimi, along with the rest of the little-girl-cousins, play horseshoes with her great Uncle George. 
Mimi was particularly adept at the game - partially because she owns it, partially because she'd been practicing, but mostly because she cheated.  Mimi found that setting horseshoes down was far more accurate than throwing them.  Here she is celebrating her victory. 
She was so excited, in fact, that she had to run over and tell her Mama all about it.  I wonder if there's a professional horseshoe league.  Ah, I see that there is.  The NHPA (National Horseshoe Pitchers Association).  Thank you, Google.  (Oh, by the way, "Google" is one of Mimi's new words.  I doubt that would've happened ten years ago). 
By the time we got home from Thanksgiving we were exhausted.  But there was no rest for the wicked.  Friday was still a work day for Sumie and I, refusing to brave Black Friday with a manic toddler, despite the deals, became captain domestic and tackled the laundry, shopping, and cleaning. 

And so it is that we find ourselves on this sunny Saturday refusing to go outside, or even get off the couch.  Sumie is contemplating a run to Ikea this afternoon, but I'm not sure if it will happen.  Shifting my reading from the bed to the living room this morning has already taken a lot out of me.  And then Sumie asked me to take her phone into the kitchen to charge it.  That resulted in at least 20 full yards of walking. 
No matter what we do this afternoon, we've all earned a little rest.  So, as soon as I sign off, I'm going back to my book and back to bed.  Sometimes, despite the sunshine and the shopping, that's what Saturdays are all about. 

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Bridges: One Famous, One Metaphorical, One Made of Lego

It hadn't really occurred to me until now, but I'm again living in a city famous for its bridges.  And, despite the seemingly constant congestion imposed by the Bay Bridge, I'm happy for it. 

Manhattan, being an island, was connected by so many bridges (and tunnels) that it took me a few years to memorize them all.  I still, and will probably always, have a soft spot for the George Washington Bridge, which connects Manhattan and New Jersey.  Ten times a week I would cross this double-decker marvel, in the morning to Jersey and in the evening, blessedly, back to Manhattan.  The morning view from the bridge wasn't all that inspiring - just Jersey and the impending threat of work - unless there happened to be snow on the Palisades.  But the ride home, that was a different story.  The city, sparkling under the night sky or eerily obscured by a midwinter fog, always called and comforted.  Crossing that bridge meant, quite simply, coming home.  And that meant the world. 

Here in SF I'm developing a fondness for the Golden Gate.  We have a partial view of its spires from the top of our street, at least on clear days.  Even better, on the other side of its span are some of the best views, towns, and historical sites in the bay area.  That's why, this last Monday, Mimi, Obachan (Sumie's Mother), and I all decided to cross the Golden Gate and head into Marin for the day. 

We left early, the sunshine holding despite the gloomy forecast, and explored Sausalito.  While it's a bit touristy - like a mini Pier 39 on the other side of the bay - it does offer some fantastic views, tasty cafes, and plenty of dogs for Mimi to point at and scream, "wan-wan!" 
After walking along the shore we settled outside at a little cafe for brunch.  Outdoor seating, no matter the temperature, is always best when you're dining with Mimi.  Remarkably, she actually sat on my lap and ate for at least half the meal.  This is usually Sumie's job - Mimi will have nothing to do with me at mealtimes if her mother is around - but with Sumie absent, I guess Mimi decided I'd do in a pinch. 
After taking down some of my eggs and covering half my English muffin with slobber, Mimi decided it was time to explore the sidewalk around our table.  She was quick to make friends, even though she looked a bit intimidating with her bottle.
We crossed the Golden Gate back into SF around 2pm and Mimi went down for a nap.  That evening, inspired by our trip across the bridge, Mimi and I decided to break out the Legos.  Mimi, as we've seen before, was still quite interested in wearing the Lego box on her head. 
This was good news for me as I was, as I often am when it comes to Lego, a man obsessed.  What is it about men that enables them to play with children's toys?  Or maybe I'm generalizing too much and it's just me.  Either way, Mimi helped me pick out the right pieces for my project and before we knew it, we had a little model of that great orange bridge (albeit not quite to scale or color). 
The evening held one more bridge for us to cross: that mystical, metaphorical, and often quite lengthy bridge from diapers to potties. 

As we already know, Mimi is a fan of her potty.  She's just not quite sure how it works. 
We made a bit of a breakthrough, though, Monday night thanks to, of all things, Mimi's occasional constipation.  Mimi will occasionally strain when it comes time to poop.  Unfortunately, the strain comes from her attempting to hold the poop in and she eventually gets a bit blocked up, which just leads to more straining and more blocking.  This was the situation Monday night. 

As Mimi was straining, I rushed her to the potty, removed her diaper and, before I knew it, was rewarded with a terrible stench.  Lifting Mimi up I discovered that she'd left a rather massive stool behind in the bottom of her potty.  Success!  We have a long way to go - Mimi still thinks her potty belongs in the living room - but it's a start.  A proud papa, I, of course, took a picture of Mimi's magnificent stool.  But, on thinking it over a bit, perhaps some things are better left unshown.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Birthday Girl on Call

Yesterday was Sumie's 28th birthday.  Amazing.  I still don't quite know how she got through college, medical school, residency, and fellowship so quickly, but she assures me the age is correct.  And she looks it, too.  I suppose those supposedly "missing" years somehow transferred to me as I'm constantly being told (perhaps by my wife?) that I look good for someone in his late forties (ouch).

Unfortunately, Sumie was on call for her birthday weekend (she'll be on call through Thanksgiving, actually).  We wanted to have some family over for a party, but we'd have to host it at our house so that Sumie could be close to the hospital should she be called in.  This meant some heavy cleaning and prep for me and Mimi, but we were definitely up to the job.

We started our shopping with a few cakes from Schubert's bakery on Clement.  They're amazing.  I got two - one strawberry mousse and one chocolate mousse - as the members of our family have a tendency to refuse cake at first only later to down two or three pieces.  From the bakery we swung by the Salvation Army Home Store to see if they had anything worthwhile.  They did, and Mimi was ecstatic!
I think the box of Lego weighed as much as Mimi, but that didn't stop her from hoarding it.  The girl really loves those little plastic blocks. 

After picking up supplies from Safeway it was time to cook and clean.  Sumie's sister and her family would be arriving around 5 and they'd be bringing Sumie's mother, who had just come out from New York and would be staying with us for a few days.  Mimi was a tremendous help by sitting on the couch and, for the very first time, not screaming as I vacuumed the living room.

Before I knew it, Kae and her family had arrived and it was time to pick up Sumie.  She'd gone in extra early that morning (around 7:00am) and now, at 6:00, she was finally ready to come home.  I drove over to the hospital where Sumie practically leaped into the car.  She likes birthday parties, particularly her own.

There was a ton of food, as usual: Kara-age (Japanese Fried Chicken), Harumaki (spring rolls), Inari (slightly sweet rice in tofu packets), and much, much more.
After loading up our plates in the kitchen, we then sat ourselves around the coffee table which, for all intents and purposes, has turned into our formal dining space. 
Everyone started to eat.  Everyone except for Mimi.  She seemed to have other plans. 
Now I understand why she was so excited to get that box of Lego earlier.  She wanted a new hat.
After dinner and cake it was time to open presents.  Mimi loved the ribbons.
All told, I think Sumie had a fun birthday, even though she'd been on call.  All the hard work and excitement took their toll, though.  By 11:00pm Sumie had passed out on the couch.  I tried to get her to go to bed, but she refused, saying she wanted to enjoy all of her birthday.  That's my wife.  She loves her birthdays.  Even when she's sleeping through them!

Friday, November 18, 2011

A Childhood Friend Comes Home

One of my favorite things about living in California is being able to share a bit of my own childhood with Mimi.  Coming from a family of collectors, if not hoarders, there's no shortage of vintage goodies tucked away just waiting to be rediscovered. 

One of the most unique items from my boyhood days, and also one of my favorites, is the family's early pin-game - a precursor of modern pinballs.

About 3 feet long and a foot and a half wide, this machine really does show how pinball got its name.  It is, quite simply, a board covered with pins.  And through these pins drop a series of balls, scoring points by slotting into various holes along the way.  It is both a terribly basic and terribly addictive little arcade game.
Our family never knew much of the history behind it.  However, a neighbor of ours, originally from the east coast, once commented that he'd seen rows of them in Coney Island back in the early 30s.  And they hadn't been just for amusement.  Men would gather round a machine, place their bets down on the glass, and then pull back the plunger to see how they fared.  We didn't do any betting at home, but we did thereafter refer to it as the Coney Island Pinball.

It sat in our home in Paradise, atop a coffee table in the living room, for as long as I remember.  I think my father bought it after I was born, but well before I could remember him doing so.  It was always a star attraction in our home, particularly for younger kids.  I eventually outgrew it - transitioning to a full-size pinball - but whenever we had children under 10 over to the house, they'd go mad for it.  It's simple enough for a 2 year old to understand, but requires enough finesse to keep a man of 34 (or so I'm told) intrigued game after game.  As such, I really wanted to bring it home for Mimi and for her cousins.  With this machine, amazingly, we can have a shared childhood experience, despite more than a 30 year gap.

It wasn't just a matter of bringing the machine out of storage and setting it on a table, though.  30 years ago my father had gone through the machine, gently oiling the wood and polishing up the brass.  It had been beautiful when I was 4, but the past 30 years had not been kind.  When it came back to me several weeks ago, it was a bit worse for wear.  The glass top had been shattered, the brass pins and trim were corroded, the play-field covered in years of grime, and the mechanisms, simple as they are, virtually frozen with grit and neglect.  I had my work cut out for me.
It was so filthy, Mimi ran away from it!
I began by removing all of the brass, including the pins, and cleaning/oiling the wood with some wood restorer and steel wool.  This brightened up the play-field immediately.
Now, given that I had started this process around 8pm, most persons would have stopped to continue the next day.  But I get impatient.  It's one of my primary flaws when it comes to completing long-term projects.  I don't have the patience.  I'll keep on a project, gunning for the finishing point, deep into the night, quickly stretching beyond my limits of stamina and skill.  This is why, a few weeks ago, Sumie found me at 2am hunched over the play-field, high as a kite on brass cleaner, mumbling to myself and I reinserted some 200 brass nails.  I decided (read: was forced) to stop there.
One can see just how much cleaning had been needed.  Here's the coin mechanism, half of it cleaned, half yet to be polished. 
The next day I finished with all the trim and tweaked the brass nails into more concentric shapes.  It was starting to look good.
The final piece was to purchase glass for the machine.  Originally it would have come with wooden rails that went over the glass to keep cheaters out and the coin box safe, but these had long been lost.  I did, however, get safety glass for the machine, double-thick, and this has had a tremendous impact on the feel of the machine.  The play went from being grainy, harsh, and intolerably loud to smooth, muffled, and relaxing.

Also, Mimi could now play along with me and not grab the steel balls and fling them across the room.  I appreciated this.  Here she is pulling back the plunger and then watching the steel balls come down, all to shouts of "Bah-ru!!!"
Since restoring the machine I've done a bit of research on it.  As you may have noticed, it's not a "factory" piece.  The rail separating the play-field from the coin mechanism has been made from an old sign that seemed to say "now open" on one side and "open for.." on the other at one point.
This, I think, makes this machine a rather unique piece.  It is definitely based on the "Whiffle Board," which is typically credited as the first pinball (http://www.ipdb.org/machine.cgi?gid=3552).  Chances are that my machine is a beautifully hand-made knock-off, of which there were many in the early 30s.  The original Whiffle Board was a bit of a sensation.  However, through my research I've found that there were 10 prototypes of the original Whiffle Board (none documented photographically, as far as I know) put into operation before the inventors settled on a final play-field.  There's a chance, albeit a small one, that this is one of those original prototypes.  Well, I suppose Mimi and I will have another activity to share in the near future.  A visit to the Antiques Roadshow.