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. 

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.