Oh, um, hey, internet. What’s up.
So. Confession. I feel like I should be writing some supersmart and informative expat-based posts about life as a new parent in Japan. But mostly, for the past seven or 10 days my every conscious moment has been consumed with a a heavy stream of WAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHHHHHHA! HAAAATTTEEE! WAHAHAHAHHA! Ergo, I can not haz smartness.
HOWEVER, if you would happen to be in the mood for some expat-based parenting screenwords, might I direct your attention to Surviving in Japan, where I wrote a guest post on having a baby in Japan.
Now, for any of you still hanging around here (sorry), I have a big present for you: a dramatic recreation of how things have been going ‘round my place*:
Example 1, or I Have To Do Basic Things That Are Not Holding a Baby:
Me: Stella, can you please play with your toys for ten minutes while I wash the breakfast dishes?
Stella: OMGHHHHZZZZ!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I WILL MOST CERTAINLY NOT DO THAT! RATHER I WILL SCREAM AND CRY AND HIT YOU AND HANG OFF YOU AND GGGGHAHAHAHA HATE THE WORLD IS AN AWEFUL PLACE!
as compares to....
Mr. Chef: Stella, I’m going to wash the dishes now.
Stella: Cool. I’ll just be over here brushing the cat, okay?
Example 2, or Every Time We Go Out of the Apartment:
Me: Stella, you need to sit in your stroller now.
Stella: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! WAHAHAHAHAHAHA. *we enter elevator* WAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHA!!!!!! *flails tiny body around, accidentally kicks old lady* WWWWHWHWHWHWHWHAAAAAATE WAHAHA! *goes limp and slides out of stroller into a crumpled mess of screaming baby on the floor* WWWWHWHWHWHLOUDESTSCREAMEVER!!!! *struggle to exit elevator* WHHWAHAHAHAHAHAHH! *finally buckled into stroller* WHWHWHWHWHWHWAAAAAA! *hits head with tiny ragefull fists*
And again, this compares rather unfavourable to the scene below:
Mr. Chef: Stella, you sit in your stroller.
Stella: I don’t really want to, but well, I guess that’s life. You don’t always get what you want. Anyway. Sucks. But I’ll deal.
Example 3, or Every Night of My Life:
Me: Stella, good night. I love you very much. Sleep well. *puts 99% asleep baby in crib*
Stella: WWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! THIS IS TERRIBLE! YOU ARE THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD *stops screaming momentarily to look at me, directly in the eye, with a glare full of hatred and betrayal* HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (Continue at maximum scream for 20-90 minutes.)
Finally, I think you're understanding the theme:
Mr. Chef: Good night Stella, sleep well.
Stella: Okay. Night. *lies down in bed*. Oh, Pops, I hate going to bed, so would it be okay if you just sit on that chair while I twirl my hair and fall asleep? Okay, thanks. It’ll only take ten minuets. And don’t worry, I won’t cry at all.
So, basically, I’m winning at parenting these days. You can congratulate me on my success in the comments.
*You might need to know that this has been almost entirely lifted from an email that I sent to my internet pen pal / mirror me. But I also feel that it is perfectly within the bounds of acceptability for me to plagiarize from myself. So, whatever.