2012.

With only a few more hours left of 2012 (in Japan anyway) I thought I would take some time to reflect on the past year.

If I'm being 100% honest, I'm actually here killing time until midnight so that I can ring in the new year and then head to bed.  With only a month and a half left until the Bean makes his appearance, Shin and I thought it best that I forgo the celebrations and spend the night in. Before he headed off to work we enjoyed the o-setchi that the in-laws sent, ate some 'long-life' soba and watched the New Year episode of the NEW Iron Chef Japan.

Oh yes, after 13 years Kitchen Stadium has been reopened! Minus Chairman Kaga but pretty damn good all the same.

But I digress.

That's us sorted in the lucky food department for another year.

Aside from procreation and all of the adventures that followed, we've obtained walls, I've tried to fill some pretty damn big shoes, and we've celebrated two milestones - one of them being our first wedding anniversary.

After almost two years of living in our open plan hipster apartment we decided that it was time to add some walls to our life. Aside from cutting back on both of our commutes, we had become tired of sleeping in a bed that smelled of what we cooked for dinner. As well, the strange office-type room at the front of our place really was a waste of space.

At the end of March we became proud sublettees of four rooms versus one (we never really counted the office / coat throwing room). And once we replaced our giant IKEA furniture with pieces that are more 'wall-appropriate', we settled in with just enough space for one more.

One of the reasons we moved was for me to be closer to my new job. Stepping into the Converse of the founders of Imagine Language Studio was / is no mean feat. Luckily they have been an incredible support all the way from jolly old England. Of course, with the Bean on his way, it will be up to the newest addition to the Imagine family to fill my stretched out motorcycle boots until I return from maternity leave Hopefully sporting some footwear more along the lines of fabulous rather than functional.

Up next was the 15 year anniversary of Boogiewalk (Shin's bar)! We celebrated with a Maker's Mark cake supplied by the ever amazing Sugar Fairy, a bottle of tequila supplied by her husband, and the possible conception of the Bean.

Although who can be sure after all of that tequila.

 
I guess from that point 2012 has been an open book for the Hiranos. We'd like to thank all of the people that take time out of their busy day to check out what has been going on with us and the Bean. And we wish our friends and family from near and far a VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR and an awesome 2013!

xo The Hiranos

Size Matters.

To start with, I hope that everyone had a lovely Christmas and Santa was good to you.

The madness that occurs in the lead up to any major holiday tends to cause extra curricular activities to take a back seat. As such I haven't been around much in December, but now that work is all wrapped up and Christmas all unwrapped I am back, with much 'Bean-ness' to share.

Visit number 6, 30th week of pregnancy:

We were at our regular doctors appointment, which take place every two weeks now, and as the doc was measuring my belly a disconcerting look came across her face. Bracing myself for a lecture, which admittedly I deserve, she measured again and didn't say anything.

Cue the million things that could be wrong to start flying through my brain.

She proceed to get the Doppler out (regular at every visit) and took time to explain the difference between the 'woosh' sound of the umbilical chord and the 'wump' sound of The Bean's actual heartbeat. Surprisingly, they sound quite similar. She declared the heartbeat regular and started slathering my belly in goop for the ultrasound.

But nothing about the face she pulled earlier.

Ultrasounds are done at pretty much every prenatal check-up in Japan. Friends that have given birth in Canada and England told me that they only get two or three. Definitely a plus on the side of having a baby in Japan; I could watch The Bean scooting around in there all day if given the chance.
A few times the doc has tried to do a 3D scan for us. I have seen other peoples pictures of these and they are amazing, you can see such detail. Needless to say, I want one.

At our last visit she flipped the switch to try and get a 3D picture for us and started to giggle. The Bean was up front and center mugging for the camera, but he was so close that the image was something like you'd get when a kid mashes their face against the window in a passing car. No 3D pic at that visit. My desire to get just one good pic of The Bean in utero is not because we don't have any pictures but they are generally of random body parts or a little on the abstract side.

This is his femur.

This is his...well your guess is as good as mine.

At this visit our ultrasound seemed to be going on longer than usual. The doctor was taking a lot of measurements, after each one she would show us the body part she measured and tell us the size. No comments that anything was out of the norm so I just sat back and enjoyed the show.

She finished up the ultrasound, printed our random body part picture and the midwife cleaned the goop off my belly. We then proceeded to our regular Q&A with the doctor. Usually, I have a short list of questions for her to answer and then we're done. This time she started us off:

"How many grams did you weigh when you were born?"

Good question. And one that I am sure I can't answer in kilograms, let alone grams. Although I am a child of the metric system my mother was not so she always told my sister and I our birth weight in pounds.

"I think I weighed about 8 pounds." At which point we all busted out our calculators: 8 pounds = 3628 grams.

So it turns out that The Bean is measuring a 'tad' on the big side. The doctor was quick to point out that her prognosis was based on the averages for Japanese babies and declared that he must be "Canadian size."

I have always hoped that our son would get his stature from my gene pool, but I was kind of thinking that it would happen during a growth spurt in his teens. For the purpose of being born, I was definitely hoping that he would be 'Japanese size'.

Shin was sitting behind me and as I turned around to give him a look of panic I quickly changed my mind. There he was with a look of absolute pride on his face. Obviously the news of our 'bigger than average' boy affected him differently than it had me. So I squeezed his knee and turned back around, hitting our doctor with the full force of my fear. To which she responded by patting me on the knee.

Visit number 7, 32nd week of pregnancy:

The Bean, face forward (looking a bit like The Joker from Batman), weighing in at 2468 grams (5.4 pounds) and we still have 7.5 weeks to go.

Eek.


 

Sleep.

I've never really been any good at sleep. For most people it's not a skill that needs to be practiced, but for me there's a whole line-up of things I should do in order to procure those much sought after ZZZs.

My bedroom has to be soundproof, lightproof and the temperature between 24 and 27 - no matter the season. I need a fairly hard mattress and my pajamas and blankets must not constrict my movements in anyway. I'm a thrasher so the above is fairly difficult. Finally, I always sleep better if I have a long bath before bed and chamomile tea never hurts.

Divas of the world, look out! There's a new princess in town.

Achieving the aforementioned sleep situation is next to impossible and I have long since given up trying.  I have all sorts of 'Sleepy Time' teas, ear plugs of every shape and size and quite the collection of eye masks that for the most part go unused. Luckily, I don't actually need much sleep. Five or six hours a night with a night of 8 hours or so every couple of weeks and I'm golden.

Needless to say, pregnancy hasn't helped my sleep situation at all.

The First Trimester

Way back in the days of morning sickness and doctor advised bed rest, I actually got more sleep than at any other time in my life. For the first time I experienced sleeping twelve hours straight, waking up to eat (and / or vomit) and then heading back to bed for more. I cat napped whenever possible, including curled up on the floor at work. I spent the majority of my nine day holiday in August in bed.

Sleep-o-rama.

During my three month hibernation I was also dreaming like a pro. I don't even know if you could describe what was going on in my head dreams.

It was like television on LSD.

I was reading the series A Song of Ice and Fire during the day and at night I would replay the scenes again in my sleep. George R. R. Martin meets Hunter S. Thompson. Honestly, it was a bit too much.

The Second Trimester

As soon as the morning sickness passed I had energy to spare.

Mountains of it.

Of course, with all that energy my old sleeping habits resurfaced but with a twist. I would head to bed at around midnight and sleep dream free for a few hours. At around 3:00 or 4:00 I would wake up.

STARVING.

Yogurt, fruit, a sandwich, leftovers from dinner, scrambled eggs, pancakes - it didn't matter what was on the menu, but there was no way I could even consider falling back to sleep until I had fed the beast.

Somewhere at around 6:00 I would slip into a gluttonous coma until my alarm went off and it was time for breakfast.

This went on for weeks, until one night I woke up in my crumb infested bed and found that the urge to binge had been replaced by a new sensation...

The Third Trimester

Or what I like to call, the months of pee.

Seriously, all I do is pee. If I even look at a glass of water I have to run to the bathroom. And don't get me started on the topic of laughing or sneezing.

For some reason I seem to be able to control the urge during the day but at night it's a whole other story. At the moment my record for late night toilet trips has maxed out at nine in one night. That doesn't leave a lot of time for sleeping.

The Bean is growing by leaps and bounds these days. For a while there I am fairly sure he was trying out for the Olympic trampoline team and using m bladder to practice.

I wonder if he'll compete for Japan or Canada?

At an ultrasound we had a few weeks ago he had made the shift to a head down position. Ahhh, the days of bladder abuse would now be behind me. Heck no!

He is now resting comfortably, using said bladder as a pillow.

I realized that through all these wonky sleeping antics that I am getting closer and closer to the time when it won't be my bladder, or cravings, or nutty dreams that are robbing me of my slumber. In about nine short weeks it'll be The Bean himself that'll keep me from dueling with the sandman.

And I can't freakin' wait!

In the meantime, the rest of our little family is doing double duty and sleeping for two. Thanks guys. xo xo xo

 

The Twelve Days of Christmas.

In the spirit of the season...

On the first day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
A kick that made me go pee.
 
On the second day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee. 

On the third day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the fourth day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the fifth day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the sixth day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Six new stretch marks,
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the seventh day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Seven sleepless nights,
six new stretch marks,
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the eighth day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Eight hours of nesting,
seven sleepless nights,
six new stretch marks,
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the ninth day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Nine foods for craving,
eight hours of nesting,
seven sleepless nights,
six new stretch marks,
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the tenth day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Ten swollen fingers,
nine foods for craving,
eight hours of nesting,
seven sleepless nights,
six new stretch marks,
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Eleven more weeks of waiting,
ten swollen fingers,
nine foods for craving,
eight hours of nesting,
seven sleepless nights,
six new stretch marks,
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
and a kick that made me go pee.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my wee Bean gave to me:
Twelve pounds to lose,
eleven more weeks of waiting,
ten swollen fingers,
nine foods for craving,
eight hours of nesting,
seven sleepless nights,
six new stretch marks,
FIIIVE HOURS OF HEARTBURN!
Four stinky burps,
three varicose veins,
two widened feet,
AND A KIIICK THAAAT MADE ME GO PEEEE.

Just in case you were wondering, the nine foods are / were: tomatoes, iced tea with lemon, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, milk (which in general I don't really like), Rocky Road ice cream, hot dogs with relish, applesauce, oatmeal, and fried chicken dipped in maple syrup (but that only happened twice).

Love me, love my shoes.

When Shin arrived home this morning, he opened the door and surveyed the shoes cluttering up the entrance and muttered, "How many people live here?" I peeked my head around the corner to see him balancing on one foot in an attempt to remove his boots, glanced at the sad sight before me and sighed, not bothering to answer.

It used to be that an entrance cluttered with an array of shoes was thing of beauty for me. In those days my cheerful response would have been, "Only the two of us my dear, and every single pair is mine."

But not anymore.

It's not that I've lost my love for footwear. That. Will. Never. Happen. But I seem to have outgrown almost all of my shoes and for the time being I am left with only four pairs that fit.

If you just thought, "Four pairs, what's wrong with that?" you should probably stop reading now.

Before getting pregnant I was well aware of my chances of swelling up like a balloon due to water retention. So, I knew that I might have to give up on a few pairs of my less sensible shoes. As my pregnancy progressed and I started to become a little unsteady, thus I gave up wearing heels. Still there was some variety and I actually had to think about which pair of shoes I would wear each day.

Enter relaxin.

Relaxin is a hormone produced by the placenta that basically helps a mama's body 'loosen up'. I recently learned that my uterus is the size of a basketball (gross) and relaxin not only helped it reach that amazing size, but also helped my pelvis and ligaments expand to make room for The Bean's inflatable house. Relaxin (a well named hormone in my opinion) also relaxes other parts of the body including the arteries in order to accommodate a much higher blood volume, and the musculoskeletal system so that bones don't start snapping during delivery. Unfortunately, relaxin is not specific to certain areas of the body and loosens up joints all over, including the feet.

Although what I am sporting these days are much closer to flippers than feet and I only own four pairs of shoes wide enough to contain them:

1. Running shoes. Yes, I own running shoes.

2. Motorcycle boots. Leftovers from when I actually fit on the back of Shin's bike.

3. Calf length dress boots that only really go with with dresses and skirts.

4. A funky, yet ancient pair of boots I bought in Hong Kong years ago that can't be worn in the rain. 

On most days I opt for the motorcycle boots because they are black and the widest of the four.

sigh

As the countdown to The Bean's arrival gets shorter and shorter (11 weeks and 3 days - eek!) you would think that I wouldn't be so downtrodden. Once The Bean is here the hormones stop and I can return to my well shod days of yore.

double sigh

Sometimes relaxin does such a bang-up job that joints remain in their loosened state forever.

quadruple sigh

The reason for my sadness doesn't stop there. You see I have always felt particularly blessed when it comes to my feet. Even if one foot is bigger than the other and, for the most part, I am unable to buy shoes in Japan, I could be worse off.

I could have my mother's feet.
 
OR, my sister's feet!

In what I believe to be an honest tragedy, my mother has 'man-feet'. She wears a size 10 but only when she can find shoes wide enough to fit. In many cases she either has to buy a size bigger, wear sandals, or horror of horrors buy men's shoes. Most years she is still in sandals while I am sporting a winter coat.

But it wasn't always this way.

I clearly remember playing dress-up in slinky red satin stilettos, fabulous cork wedges, and high heeled clogs that would've caused any member of Charlie's Angels to do a double-take. What I don't remember, is my mom wearing any of those gorgeous creations. They lived in a box in her closet, a memento of her life before relaxin and her two children got the best of her. Ahh the sacrifice.

Thank you mom. xo

And then there are my sister's feet.

Like my mom's they are both long and wide (she's had four children after all). She also suffers from fallen arches and experiences a great deal of pain if she doesn't wear specially ordered insoles.

'Orthopedic shoes' is the worst 4-letter word that I know.

But the real reason that I have counted my size 8 1/2 blessings over the years, is that she has the ugliest feet I have ever seen.

Up until now I am fairly certain that my sister doesn't read my blog. I guess I will find out for sure sometime over the next few days.

It's not her actual feet that are ugly, but her toes that make them so freakish. The big toes, which are normal in shape, are like two hairy sergeants standing in front of their troop of misfits waiting for inspection. Sergeant BT Left (big toe) and Sergeant BT Right are then followed by three corporals, all of them long enough to possess two functioning knuckles.

Are they called knuckles when they are on your feet?

Anyway, picture E.T.'s fingers and you have pretty accurate image of my sister's toes.

Finally, there is a little private at the end line-up. When I say "little" what I really mean is minuscule. And for some reason it sits up on top of her foot rather than in line with the rest. Rather like Napoleon perched on his horse so as not to reveal his true stature.

Let it be known that my sister has always sported her army with pride, mastering feats with her toes straight out of My Left Foot. I have great faith that if she were ever to lose the use of her hands (touch wood) that she wouldn't miss a beat and just carry on life as usual with her freaky feet.

I do not want that life.

I do not want shoe box feet.

I do not want to give up my Jimmy Choos.

BUT my dear little Bean, if that's the way it turns out then so be it. The sacrifice will be well worth it.

And of course there is a whole cabinet full of shoes that will need to be replaced.

犬の日 (Dog Day)

After our visit to Nakayama Temple for 帯祝い (Obi Iwai), Shin and I circled November 21st on our calendar - 犬の日 (Dog Day). 犬の日 is the day we get to bind up my bump in the name of safe delivery and good health for The Bean.

Why the 21st?

Why "Dog Day"?

What's the deal with the obi?

Why the 21st? No idea. Sorry. I asked around but no one could satisfy my curiosity. In November there were two 犬の日, the first on 9th and the second on the 21st. According to the calendar from the temple, the 21st was the more auspicious of the two and that's why we chose that day for our belly binding.

That's the obi all packaged up on the far right.

Why "Dog Day"? I've got this one in the bag. In Japan, the dog is the official mascot of pregnant women which I found rather unusual. Dogs are man's best friend. There's the hair of the dog to sooth a hangover. It's been knows to rain cats and dogs. One can be as sick as a dog. Could that be it? I very clearly remember being as sick as a dog for the first three months of my pregnancy and although it seeed to be a solid connection that's not the reason. Or maybe its the pregnancy hormones that can turn even the kindest of women turn into a bitch. Bingo!?

No.

After listening to all of my wild conjecture, Shin explained that dogs are associated with pregnancy in Japan as they conceive easily, give birth to multiple puppies in good health and labour is relatively short and without incident. Things that every woman hopes for when entering the baby making business.  

Of course. Why didn't I think of that?

Finally, what's the deal with the obi? On 犬の日 we opened up the obi to reveal a blessing and prediction from the Buddhist priest at Nakayama temple.

Ours predicted that we would have a son born The Year of the Dragon. Not bad for someone that we hadn't even met. The Bean is in fact a boy and was conceived in The Year of the Dragon, but will be born in The Year of the Snake.

 

A quick aside - I was born in The Year of the Dragon, our son will be born in Snake and Shin was born in Horse. Those three years appear consecutively in the Chinese calendar. I love the organization of it all!

 

We unfolded the obi and stretched out, it went from the kitchen to our front door. As I was contemplating just spinning in a circle until I met up with Shin in the entrance, he had the clever idea of reading the instructions. We rolled up the obi so that it was easy to manage and then Shin wrapped it around my bump mummy style.

 

 

As The Bean gets bigger it's becoming less comfortable to carry him around, and sleeping is next to impossible. But all bound up in my obi I felt more comfortable that I had in weeks. Perhaps I'll make it a regular part of my wardrobe.

 

11. 12.

Until recently, I didn't realize that traditional anniversary gifts differ depending on where you live. For example, in the US the gift for your fourth anniversary is linen or silk, while in the UK it is fruit and flowers. However, all the big ones are still the same in both countries: silver for the 25th, sapphires for the 45th and diamonds for the big five-oh. I also learned that this tradition is not followed in Japan.

But it is in our house.

Shin likes the idea, especially the gift of leather for your third anniversary. Before you get any funny ideas, he was thinking along the lines of a new motorcycle jacket, nothing kinky (as far as I know - we'll see in two more years). So, for my day of our anniversary weekend, I decided that we would get paper gifts for each other.

Like with many things, Shin is not very timely in his gift giving. He just bought my birthday gift a week ago (my birthday was in October). It was purchased alongside my Christmas gift and they are both being delivered this coming Monday.

I should take a moment and be fair to my loving husband.

He is a very busy guy. He works nights seven days a week, and sleeps during the day. He only ever takes time off when we have something special planned, in fact our anniversary marked his first day off since we moved at the end of March. Needless to say, shopping is not at the top of his 'To Do' list. Taking this into consideration, I decided that part of my anniversary plans would include picking out our paper presents together. And what better place to do that than at a bookstore!

A little while ago, one of my students was describing a bookstore that she had visited in Kyoto called Keibunsha. It sounded so cool and when she showed me a picture of all the goodies she bought I was sold! She also told me about ガケ書房 (Gakegake), another bookstore not far from Keibunsha, that sounded just as good. She mentioned that they have a section specializing in old / discontinued comics which I thought would be right up Shin's alley.

We ate breakfast and set off for Kyoto in the morning on the 12th. We decided to go to Keibunsha first and we were not disappointed. They had lots of great architecture books, cookbooks, stationary and a small gallery in the corner. I'm not sure how long we spent browsing but it was long enough for The Bean to remind me that I hadn't eaten in a couple of hours and we still had one more shop to visit before lunch. Most importantly, I picked out my anniversary present; a book about the life and paintings of my favourite Japanese artist, Yayoi Kusama.

This is me at a Kusama exhibit in Osaka last March.

We then headed to ガケ書房, and again we weren't disappointed.

Shin spent the majority of his time reading through the comics and graffiti art books, while I tried to figure out how they had attached the car to the outside of the building. This shop was quite a bit smaller, but we spent almost as much time inside. Between the two of us, we probably went through every book they have. For his anniversary present, Shin picked out two coffee table books about graffiti art and I found a cookbook specializing in recipes for pancakes. Gifts were bought and we left happy campers.

If you're ever in Kyoto and are looking to do something aside from visiting temples and shrines, I highly recommend both of these bookstores.

Thanks Noriko!

In the afternoon Shin and I headed to Arashiyama where, the year before, we had wedding pictures taken with my family. 

Luckily, it was a Monday so the place wasn't too overrun with tourists, as it often is at this time of year. We bought some ice cream and had a lovely stroll through the bamboo forest and surrounding neighbourhood, enjoying the autumn colours.

Of course, when I say stroll, I mean waddle.

As evening grew closer, the temperature started to drop and we were ready to head back to the heated car; feeling rather exhausted but jubilant after celebrating our paper anniversary.

Happy first anniversary Shin! xo xo xo

2011

2012

11 . 11 .

On November 11th, 2011 Shin and I were married at city hall in Osaka. There was no ceremony, just the two of us filling out paperwork and presenting our identification. We exchanged rings in the back of a taxi on the way home; a friend of ours commented that it was all very "rock star".

Of course that wasn't all we did.

We followed up our rock start visit to city hall by dressing in traditional Japanese kimonos and visiting one of the more famous and beautiful sightseeing spots in Kyoto, Arishiyama.

The next day we celebrated with friends and family with a more traditional reception. We exchanged vows, ate, drank and were merry. It was a fabulous couple of days.

It's now one year later and we are celebrating our first anniversary! What a year it has been. We moved at the end of March, I started a new job at the beginning of April and of course The Bean entered the picture not long after that. 

The Hiranos don't mess around.

When it came to celebrating our first anniversary we figured that, much like our wedding, it should be a two day affair. So Shin made plans for the 11th and I made plans for the 12th.

After working on the morning of the 11th, I headed home and was greeted by the arrival of some maternity clothes I had ordered online. Woo hoo, something to wear for our big weekend! Already off to a good start. After ripping open the box and playing dress-up for a while I noticed that something was missing.

My husband.

Where was Shin?

I knew that he had planned to borrow his parent's car for the weekend but had said that he'd be home by the time I finished work. The pouring rain outside, coupled with his propensity for being late meant that he was probably both stuck in traffic and of course running late. Perfect time for a nap. I woke up an hour  later, still no Shin.

Hmmmm.

He was now about three hours late and in my books that's time enough to warrant a phone call. After about 6 rings Shin groggily answered the phone,

"Where are you!?"

"Sleeping in the car."

Shin's parents live between 45 minutes to an hour away on a normal day. Throw in some rain, and keep in mind that it was Sunday, the time almost doubles. But sleeping in the car...? Apparently, Shin was really tired on the way home and didn't think that he'd make it without a nap. So, he pulled over for a ten minute snooze.

An hour and a half later he was still snoozing.

Shin reassured me that I had no need to worry, and that he would be home in plenty of time to get ready for our evening out. Under my breath I muttered "better late than never" and hung up.

Although the 11th was Shin's day to plan anniversary fun, I had a little surprise up my sleeve.

There were many aspects of our wedding that Shin was happy to let me take care of, but one of the things that he had some very strong opinions on was our wedding cake. He didn't want the usual fruity cream cake that is served at most receptions in Japan, and when I suggested a cupcake tower he was hooked. I realize that cupcake towers are by no means new or unusual in most places, but they are pretty much unheard of in Japan.

What to do?

Of course! Ask the Sugar Fairy, to make our wedding cake. The Sugar Fairy is a  baker and maker extraordinaire, and luckily for us she is also a very good friend. Although it was a monumental task, she churned out the perfect cake!

We had planned to freeze some for our first anniversary, but the Sugar Fairy advised against it and promised to make us an anniversary cake. And, so she did.

While Shin was making his way home I made some coffee and took the cake out of the fridge. Shin had forgotten about the promise of an anniversary cake, so when he (finally) got home he was totally surprised. We sat down and toasted our first year of marriage.

Cake before dinner, why not!







After finishing our dessert we got dressed up and headed out to the restaurant. Shin had reserved us a table at a famous teppanyaki restaurant about an hour drive from our place. I was convinced that we wouldn't make it in time for our reservation, as it had taken Shin so long to get home, but the rain had let up and there was no need to stop for a nap. For once we were actually early!

Then we ate.

And ate.

And ate.

Each table at the restaurant had its own chef, so all of the courses (eight in total) were perfectly timed and the food was cooked exactly as we wanted. The two most exciting courses for me were the seafood course and the steak course.

Delicious!

I had never been to a teppanyaki restaurant before, so this was a big treat for me. On our way home with bellies bursting, Shin pondered where we would go with The Bean for dinner on our second anniversary.

But I was too full to even answer.

みかん (Mikan) .

みかん is our cat. And she is 'special'.

About five years ago I was in the market for a cat and found her on the Internet. She belonged to a family that had gotten her at the same time as their son was born. The family had hoped that the cat and baby would grow up together. Unfortunately (for them), the baby was terribly allergic and she had to go.

This is where I came into the picture.

Arrangements were made for the whens and the wheres of the hand-off, and on a brisk December morning a friend and I set out to get her.

As the family was quite desperate to find みかん a new home, I think they may have exaggerated a tad when they told me about her.

Exaggeration #1: She loves people, especially children.

みかん in no way whatsoever likes children. Whenever friends bring their kids to our house she hides in the closet until they have not only left the building, but are out of the neighborhood and well on their way home. As for big people, that is very much hit and miss. She either loves you or heads to the closet. There is no method to feline madness.

Just ask my mom.

Last year my mom stayed with us for about a week. I think みかん graced us with her presence sometime around the time my mom was getting ready to leave...only to crawl into my sister's lap. A good impression was not made.

Exaggeration #2: みかん never, ever scratches.

Actually, this is more of a full on, slap you in the face lie.

She scratches everything: wallpaper, wood, curtains, the sofa and best of all me. If you have been following along in our little baby making saga, you may remember that I have a thing for white leather sofas. In fact, I used to have one (paired beautifully with my fake teak furniture).

Until the cat destroyed it.

Actually, strike that. Until the cat destroyed THEM. Nail holes up and down the arms of the sofa and teeth marks (revealing the true nature of my "teak" coffee table), is what this non-scratching cat gifted me with during our first year together.

On any given day if you take a quick look at my hands and forearms, you can also find evidence of our cat that "never scratches". These little welts of love, are usually the result of me not wanting to get out of bed at 4 a.m. to feed her royal highness.

Eventually, she gets fed. Every night.

Exaggeration #3: みかん is never noisy.

Liars!

In the summer most people leave their windows open. A fairly normal practice unless you are the owner of one howling cat. I have trained myself, yes myself not the cat, to approach the apartment with ninja silence. If みかん hears my voice, keys or shoes she begins howling in a voice loud enough to set off the neighbor's dogs, make babies cry, and wake the dead.

Trust me, nobody needs to be welcomed home by that symphony.

Aside from these few unforeseen character flaws, みかん settled right in and now I don't know how we'd live without her.

Better rested I suppose.

Anyway, as charming as 'The History of Me and My Cat' must be, it's about time that I get to my point.

みかん and The Bean

みかん clearly loves me more than Shin. This is evident in the welcome home howling (which Shin never gets), the way she wedges herself between us if Shin gets too close on the sofa, and her attacks of bulimia.

Right, I forgot to mention the bulimia.

There are times when a social engagement has kept me out late, maybe all night, and on the rare occasion for the weekend. Let me assure you, this hasn't happened recently. Upon returning home the first thing I do is feed the cat. Then, she promptly eats and vomits up said food. みかん adjusts the volume and location of said vomit in order to correspond with the length of my absence. A weekend away will guarantee Exorcist-style vomit on my pillow. This also never happens to Shin.

Isn't it nice to be loved?

Getting back to my point, what is going to happen when The Bean arrives?! How will we keep the cat out of the crib? What if みかん and The Bean both require an early morning feeding at the same time? How many rolls of paper towel does one need to stock up on, in order to clean up cat and baby vomit? Did I mention the jealousy when people spend too much time in my general vicinity? And of course, みかん doesn't do children.

I have no clue about how this is going to turn out. Part of me thinks that there has to be some sort of bonding that goes on between pets and babies. The other part of me has nightmares of cribs filled with cat vomit.

I suppose only time will tell. 

S#%t people say.

I would like to think that there are times when people say things without really thinking them through. Perhaps they are having a rough day and not focusing. Or they don't realize that what they have just said could be taken the wrong way...by a hormonal pregnant woman.

Who knows.

Whatever the reason, recently there have been a few occasions where I've laughed off comments that in retrospect were probably a little off colour. Unfortunately, as I am not a great judge of my own sensitivity, I think that it's probably better to smile and nod rather than fly off the handle and start throwing things.

I've made a mental note of some of the keepers to share.

S#%t People Say

"Wow! Are you having twins?" - From a total stranger.

"Is that good for the baby?" - I was eating chocolate. Maybe not the best thing for the baby, but damn good for mama.

"Your face is fat." - Sigh.

"You're due in February? I thought it was much sooner." - Enough already!

"You must really like that, you're eating a lot!" - The speakers of the other zingers shall remain anonymous, but interestingly this one was said by my darling husband. You would think that he'd know better by now.


You may notice a trend here, most of these comments are directed at what I'm eating or my size.

Yes, The Bean and I are growing steadily. In fact, it feels like we're expanding as each day goes by. I've had to hang up my last pair of pre-pregnancy pants and just realized that although I am currently able to zip up my winter coat, in a few weeks that will not be the case.

For the first six months I was so careful about everything that passed my lips but recently it's becoming harder and harder. Especially when everything I am about to eat demands to be covered in peanut butter beforehand.

Well...not everything.

Next week we have an appointment with our baby doc. I greatly fear that this will be the time when I am berated for gaining too much weight. Guess I had better start cutting back on the peanut butter.

But first I should finish off these tasty treats.



 

帯祝い (Obi Iwai).

For those of you that know Shin, you are well aware that he is not the most punctual of individuals. In fact, on the rare occasions that he is on time it's most likely due to dumb luck or my incessant nagging, rather than careful planning. 'Better late than never' has become something of a mantra in our house. Our trip to Nakayama Temple for Obi Iwai is one such example.

It is custom for families in Japan to visit a temple in the fifth month of pregnancy to pray for the health of their baby. I had never heard of this custom until a friend of mine and a couple of students asked me if we had been yet.

Of course we hadn't.

So, as I entered the twenty-fifth week of my pregnancy (that would be month six) we met up with the in-laws and headed out say our prayers.

Although I had asked around, I still didn't really understand what was supposed to go down when we got to the temple. I was under the impression that we would show up, some guy would bind up my belly and we'd call it a day. It was the belly binding that was causing me some stress.

Over the last few weeks The Bean, and subsequently myself, have been going through a growth spurt. Said growth has turned my stomach into an angry, red monster. I religiously slather it in vitamin E cream in an attempt to fight off stretch marks (so far so good) but my skin is a disgusting red mess. Anyway, not really something that I want to be flashing a stranger with.

Luckily, my belly stayed safe inside my clothing where it belongs.

It turns out that the whole 'ceremony', if you could call it that, takes only a few minutes. We came, we dropped 7000 yen on a paper envelope full of goodies, and five minutes later prepared to leave.

Inside the envelope there is a white cotton obi that Shin and I are to tie around my belly on 犬の日 (Dog Day) later in November, along with other lucky charms to help The Bean make a healthy and safe entrance into world.

On our way out we passed a small Buddha that was surrounded by baby bibs covered in messages that parents had written for their little beans. I liked the idea of this far more than the belly wrapping and we got a bib for The Bean.

I don't know if this is like making a wish on a birthday cake, if you tell it won't come true, so I'll just give you the gist of it. My message was a wish for the health of our baby boy.

 

 

Shin was kind enough to wish for an easy labour and birth for both myself and The Bean. Thank you honey! xx

 



I'm not religious by any means but I figure that good vibes are welcome, no matter where they come from. And that was certainly accomplished by our little outing to Nakayama Temple.

Two days late.

Better late than never.

Halloween.

I love Halloween.

For years I have been of the opinion that it should be a world wide public holiday. Actually, the day after Halloween should be the holiday; give kids some time to sort out their sugar levels and for the rest of us to recover from the debauchery of the night before.

Shin loves Halloween too.

Since we met it has been our night. We always go shopping together and help each other get ready for the festivities. One of my fondest memories from the beginning of our relationship is of Shin bursting into my apartment at around 6:30 in the morning toting a pair of 8 inch heel go-go boots. He had just returned from the private courier dispatch center, where he had gone to pick them up, unable to wait for the delivery later that day. Not even John Travolta could imagine the likes of the strutting that went on in my kitchen that morning.

This year things are a little different. A crowded, smoky bar is probably not the best environment for The Bean, even if said bar belongs to his daddy. So, I am doing the responsible thing and spending the night in - but don't you think for a second that I'm not celebrating!

Rocky Horror Picture Show - check. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups - check. Thriller dance taking place in the kitchen every hour, on the hour - check. Costume...

I thought that might be going a little overboard, even for me.

It's nearing midnight and things are probably just starting to get going in Shin's part of the city. I'm all Time Warped out and heading to bed. But before I turn in I just wanted to wish everyone a HAPPY HALLOWEEN from The Bean and I! 365 more sleeps to go until next year.

Shin, Halloween 2012 - a vision of the perfect husband and father.

Hormones.

I like to think of myself as a rational and fairly even tempered person. Sure I've had my moments of diva-ness, but nothing off the charts.

Until recently.

Pregnancy hormones have caused me to lash out in ways that in retrospect are both embarrassing and over the top. As such, they need to be shared.

Crying
All pregnant women cry. I know this to be a fact from listening to the tales of friends and family, and of course the Internet told me so. What I didn't realize, was the wide range of absolutely idiotic things that would turn me into a weeping mess of a woman. I cried when the train was late. I cried when the supermarket was out of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I cried when I lost my keys in my pocket. I could go on and on.

One of my worst tear antagonists has been the TV. Music videos, commercials and the Discovery channel have all at one point or another turned me into a puddle. But it was an episode of Glee that pushed me over the edge.

Yes, Glee.

It was the finale from the third season, the Graduation episode. The thing is, I hadn't seen any of the other episodes from that season. In fact, I only tuned in at the end of that particular show just in time for them to graduate while singing Bruce Springsteen's Glory Days. Having not invested any time or real interest in the characters or the show itself, my reaction seemed a little out of place.

Torrent of tears.

Full on sobs.

Snot flying.

Hormones in maximum overdrive.

Throwing the Mail
As previously mentioned, I consider myself to be a rational person. Even in the down and dirty depths of an argument I rarely yell, and I have never, ever thrown anything.

Until a few weeks ago.

Let me set the scene: it's a peaceful evening in the Hirano household. Shin is on the sofa relaxing while I'm cooking dinner. Dinner is nothing fancy, Thai curry with jasmine rice and salad, a meal we often eat. I was off that day so there was no stress from work and I was feeling particularly refreshed after a long afternoon nap.

Not a breeding ground for unfounded rage.

Dinner is ready to go and I start to clear stuff off the table when I come across that day's mail. The mail that Shin has carelessly tossed on the table. The mail that he has not even bothered to open. The mail that could be of extreme importance, but it's just sitting there. The mail that is standing between us and our Thai curry.

The mail that is suddenly flying across the room at my unsuspecting husband's head.

Hormones in ultra overdrive.

Attacking the Elderly
I have great respect for the aged. In fact, I am often the first to defend the actions of cantankerous elderly people; they put in the years, give them a break. It's my dream to someday be lucky enough to become a dirty old man.

Then one old bird messed with the wrong pregnant lady.

As my bump has now expanded past my boobs, my balance has been somewhat irregular. Just to be safe, I've started taking elevators rather than the stairs. My schedule is fairly regular so I see the same people getting off the train almost everyday. Most passengers drag their weary bodies up the stairs but there are a few of us that make a beeline for the elevator.

One old Betty in particular.

She's up and standing at the train doors waiting to get off a good two or three minutes before we pull into the station. From there, she races to the elevator and as soon as she gets in, starts pounding on the close-door button like her life depends on it. Countless times people, including myself, have been left in her dust waiting for the lift to come back down.

A few days ago, Granny was up to her usual tricks when she closed the door on my belly (which of course arrives everywhere before I do). Rather than let it fly and wait for the next ride up, I wrenched the door open with Hulk like ferocity and roared:

もう、あぶないよ。あなたのエレベーターじゃない!

Literally translated as: Hey! Be careful. This isn't your elevator!

Add a splash of vehemence. A drop of intimidation. A whole heaping helping of hormones, not to mention the fact that I towered over her by at least 25 centimeters, and I am sure what she heard was:

Listen you cranky old bitch, lay your finger on that button one more time and I'm going to snap it off. Don't you freakin' well know that this isn't your private elevator!?

Hormones in ultra, super-duper maximum overdrive.

The Third Visit.

Continued from: The System.

Visit number 3, 22nd week of pregnancy:

Shin and I burst into the waiting room. This time minus the sweat from our previous visits, it is the middle of October after all. As per our last two visits I am freaking out because we've probably missed the 11:30 cut off. Again we we make it by the skin of our teeth and for the second visit in a row we've already been to the checker-inner machine.

I am determined that this visit will go better than the last one.

Weight, check. Again no need to lie, yeah prenatal yoga! Urine sample, check. Blood pressure...

...machine approached with caution. On the first go my blood pressure is between the dreaded numbers on the sign. BUT! All on my own, without anyone reminding me, I scrap the first results and try again. Second time lucky. Everything is filed away in my plastic folder.

Next step, the baskets.

Again approached with caution. Upon close inspection there is a sign on each basket. Basket 1: Nervous Freaky Doctor (the guy we had last time). Basket 2: No preference. Basket 3: Doctor Tamura. Is that her? We can't remember. BUT! Rather than chance it, Shin kindly asks the nurse that has been watching us scrutinize the baskets if this one belongs to our regular doctor. BINGO!

Exhale.

We take a seat at the back of the room where it doesn't matter if Shin snores when he passes out. The poor man has only slept for a couple of hours after finishing work. The wait begins.

Thirty minutes in, toilet trip number one.

Fifty-five minutes in, toilet trip number two.

An hour and thirty minutes in, toilet trip number three. Sigh. For the last hour The Bean has been pummeling my bladder nonstop. Let's hope that there is this much action during the ultrasound. And then...

"平野さん！"

NOOOOOOOO.

We had done so well.

As the nurse approaches she is wearing a kind smile, nothing like the death stare from last time. Then she lays it on me, apparently the ultrasound machine in Doctor Tamura's examination room is not working. Not again! My first instinct is to lose grip on reality and freak out. Maybe toss a sofa through the window. BUT! I pull myself together and wake Shin from his slumber so that he can talk to the nurse who, by the way, is still smiling but looks very nervous. Seems that I've misunderstood, the machine is working but they are unable to give us a picture to take home. Whatever, let's just get on with it.

We wait for another thirty minutes and are called to exam room two. I'm suddenly giddy, this is the day we find out if we are playing for team pink or team blue. Enter the cheerleaders, "Go Hiranos Go!"

Our lovely doctor is waiting with the ultrasound machine fired up and ready to go. Resisting the urge to hug her, I hop up on the bed and moments later we are listening to the heartbeat in surround sound and watching The Bean chillin' in utero. Now, when I say 'chillin' I mean it.

Fast asleep.

Back to the camera.

I'm not sure if it was the utterly pathetic way I squeaked out, "Boy or girl? Today?" or that Doctor Tamura had witnessed the brief moment when I considered tossing a sofa through the window. Either way, the woman ultrasounded like her life depended on it. A silence descended on the room.

...

...

...

Maybe.

Maybe it's a...

Maybe it's a boy.

IT'S. A. BOY!

Tears flow. Visit number three is a success.

Baby boy belly at 22 weeks and 1 day.

The System.

Now that Shin and I had secured our place at the hospital of my dreams (did I mention that they only do private rooms) we began our regular hospital visits. To start, we are scheduled to make an appearance every four weeks. At each visit I have to check in downstairs with my hospital card at an automatic 'checker-inner' machine, weigh myself, check my blood pressure, submit a urine sample, pop everything into a plastic folder (minus the urine sample) and place it in one of the three baskets on the counter. Sounds easy. And it probably is easy.

But not for us.

Visit number 1, 14th week of pregnancy:

Shin and I burst into the waiting room dripping with sweat, me freaking out because we've probably missed the 11:30 cut off. I start taking off my shoes so that I can weigh myself when I hear "平野さん！" (Hirano-san)

Bugger, we've forgotten to check in at the checker-inner machine downstairs.

Shin gallantly offers to go back downstairs and do it for me, a.k.a escaping his hormonal, bitching wife for a cigarette, and leaves me to get on with things. Weight, check. Urine sample, check. Blood pressure...

...machine broken. With my arm still in it.

Luckily Shin reappears and saves me from having my arm torn off by the blood pressure machine. He calmly pushes the reset button and I finish up. I put everything into the plastic folder, toss it onto the counter and flake out on the first white leather sofa I can find (so many to choose from).

"平野さん！"

The nurse points to a sign on the blood pressure machine that says if my reading is over a certain number then I have to do it again. And with the sweetest smile ever, she tells me that the file goes in one of the three baskets, not on the counter.

After an hour we are called in to see our lovely doctor and get to hear our baby's heartbeat for the first time. I burst into tears and Shin lets out a gasp of fatherly pride. Although there are a few minor slip-ups, visit number one is a success.

Visit number 2, 18th week of pregnancy:

Shin and I burst into the waiting room dripping with sweat, me freaking out because we've probably missed the 11:30 cut off, but this time we've already been to the checker-inner machine.

Hiranos: 1, Hospital: 0

I start peeling off layers in order to weigh myself, all the while thinking that if it came down to it I could just write down any old number I like. Luckily, I don't need to. Thank you NVP. Weight, check. Urine sample, check. Blood pressure, check.

Hiranos: 4, Hospital: 0

Everything is filed neatly into the plastic folder and handed to the nurse behind the counter.

"平野さん！"

"Did you pay your 50,000 yen deposit downstairs?"
Oops, we forgot.
Shin heads back down, fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket as he exits the room.

Hiranos: 4, Hospital: 1

"平野さん！"

"Please check your blood pressure again."
The sign on the blood pressure machine that says if my reading is over a certain number then I have to do it again is pointed to.

Hiranos: 4, Hospital: 2

"平野さん！"

"Please remember to put your folder in a basket on the counter. Please do not hand it to a nurse."
No smile this time.

Hiranos: 4, Hospital: 3

Shin gently takes the folder from the nurse, drops it into a basket and nudges me towards the sofas. The ones waaaay at the back.

"平野さん！"

"Did you fill out the blah blah blah papers?"
She hands me a pen and clipboard, knowing that I haven't. 
ARGH! At this point I am fully prepared to stab the nurse with the pen. Shin steps in and handles the situation by clearing away all sharp objects in my general vicinity. 

4 : 4 all.

After an hour we are called in to see our lovely doctor. But wait!? Who the hell is this dude? Where is my wonderful English speaking doctor? Turns out that the basket Shin had placed our folder in was for patients that do not have a preference as to which doctor examines them.

GAH! I have a preference.

Hiranos: 4, Hospital: 5

At this point, things go from bad to worse. Fancy schmancy ultrasound machine is broken. Pre WWII ultrasound machine wheeled in. Doctor can't get a clear image of anything but the baby's leg. Doctor unable to tell us the gender of the baby. Doctor decides to print out a picture of the baby's leg. There is no printer hooked up to the ancient machine. I burst into tears and Shin lets out a gasp of frustration. Visit number two a fail.

Hiranos: 4, Hospital: 11

Stay tuned to find if the Hiranos can make a comeback in Hospital visit number 3...

White.

I love white. Stark white walls and white furniture all brought together with the warmth of teak accents. Serenity. Visions of my dream house.

WERE visions of my dream house.

I realize that white is just not a suitable environment for raising children in, unless you are happy to part with your sanity. On the other hand when the white belongs to someone else, then why not?

The time came for Shin and I to choose the hospital where we would have our baby. Actually, the time had passed, even though we were receiving daily reminders from the in-laws. With the scratch on the bumper a moot topic, they were again kind enough to lend us their car so we could go out and stalk some hospitals. We got a list from the city health insurance office, programmed the 10 places closest to where we live into the navigation, and we were off (with Shin driving of course)!

Too far. Too old. Too big. Too small. Too unfriendly. Too sunny. Too dirty. Too pink.

And then there were two.

The two places left on our list were very different. One was a large hospital while the other was a very small private maternity clinic. At that point I was leaning towards the small clinic, I liked the idea of having the same doctor for each visit and going to a place that was specifically in the business of bringing babies into the world. From home we did a little bit more stalking of the clinic via the Internet and discovered that they had their very own Ninja Doctor. I guess he's not really a ninja but perhaps he'd like to be.  The spiel he'd written describing his theories on pregnancy and birthing were all based on martial arts. In my world kendo, jujitsu and karate don't seem to have much to do with giving birth.

And then there was one.

As we were on our way to check out the final hospital I was so nervous. What if it also had ninja doctors? What if we had missed the window, and they were already booked up for February births? What if the outside was deceiving and it too was decked out in Pepto Bismol pink? I could barely breathe as we walked through the automatic doors...

A reception room full of white leather sofas and dark walnut coffee tables.

Exhale.

On top of the reception room of my dreams they have a wonderful English speaking doctor and midwife. I plan to bring our child here on play dates.

Oh, and we were the last February birth to be booked in.