lately

This is R's new thing: tea. Has to be chamomile and in the drinking vessel of her choice. I wonder if other toddlers her age are this exacting. If I sing a song that does not agree with her mood, I am promptly silenced. There are certain clothes I wear that she also disapproves of. When we go for a walk, she gives extremely specific directions about which way we should go. Right now, the fabulous red goose-down jacket that grandma and grandpa bought her has fallen out of favor and if she must wear a coat, then it has to be the shoddy black hand-me-down that's so big, she keeps tripping over her own feet cause she can't see them.

This week, though, we had an exciting development: R actually PLAYED at the playground. I mean, she ran around, climbed the various structures, slid down slides, and all that other good stuff. Only thing was that it was pitch-black and we were the only ones out in the freezing cold, scampering about like crazy people.

When I was a kid, I remember reading about a little girl who was allergic to sunlight and her mom had to take her to the playground at night. I thought that was about the saddest thing I'd ever read. Now here I am, twenty years later, living the sad life. But no, it really was not that bad. There is something fun about being out after dark--take Halloween and trick or treating. Sure, winter isn't the best season for it. But having the whole playground to ourselves, R really relaxed and had a ball, screeching in delight, drawing pictures with her hands in the gravelly ground, spinning round and round while looking up at the stars. I have never seen her so at ease outside of the house.

And the great thing about living in Tokyo is that I don't feel nervous going out with R at night and playing with her in a deserted park. It's a densely populated city where most of the residents commute by public transportation, and I'd say the average worker leaves the office at 8 pm, so there are always people on the streets long after darkness falls.

Unfortunately, R seems to think "people" are bad. When we're out walking, she'll say "people" right as she turns to me, arms up, waiting to be whisked out of the slimy reach of...people. And as I just wrote, in Tokyo, there are always people. Lots of people. Hopefully, a good daily dose of this will eventually cure R of her fears.