Finally, after almost five months, our son could meet his Japanese grandparents. We thought it would be a very stressful experience to travel from Tokyo to Kyushu with a small baby during a pandemic, but when we arrived in Fukuoka we felt like it had been smoother and safer than going to the supermarket in […]
For over one year I have had the privilege to admire my wife’s beautiful grey hair come out of hiding, centimeter by centimeter (you can catch up on another grey hair story here). I have also had the honor to witness her, with the gray hair associated, bravery; while I have enjoyed seeing my wife’s
Living with a baby is like living in slow motion and in a time lapse at the same time. Lately the nights seem to never end; how many times is it possible to wake up during the night, how little is it possible to sleep and still be aware of being awake – nights when
Last week I was asked by the local newspaper Smålänningen from my hometown in Sweden if I was interested in a story about this blog, and much to my surprise I did not even hesitate before I said yes please. Old me would have tried to convince myself that it was a bad idea, that
Living with a baby is learning to live in a new world, and beside all novelties such as sleep deprivation, diaper changing and experiencing new levels of previously unexplored worries and wonderous joy, there is also a whole new set of words that move in with the baby. Some of of them I think my
Being a foreigner in Tokyo, I have come to know the Immigration Bureau quite well; during my two years here I have already gone there five or six times. And now time had come to visit the Immigration Bureau once again to apply for an extension of my spouse visa. With the Corona virus affecting
Apart from love and patience, being a parent seems to require flexibility more than anything else. In many ways I find that my wife and I are acting like a zipper, taking turns to care about our baby and connecting with each other to seal the space of love we are carrying. It is a
This has been the happiest week of my life, but in some ways also the most difficult. Let me back up to last Friday, May 29. When I start writing this, I am sitting in a car park outside a children’s hospital in Tokyo. The time is 2.25 and the rain has finally stopped. We came
I love the ceiling in our apartment; in a way it feels like we live in an old factory when I look at the ceiling and see the uneven surfaces, the rough unpolished cement, the imprints that the wood used for making the ceiling has left behind. I fantasised about living in an old factory
I could not imagine Tokyo being this quiet. It has been Golden Week, the longish Japanese spring holiday, and with traveling out of the question and shops and parks closed, people seem to have been quietly staying at home; streets almost empty and only a few trucks on the nearby highway. I woke up early
While we were wondering what kind of world our baby will grow up in, a delivery came – a piece of the past had found its way to our doorstep (actually our genkan, but never mind…). A few weeks ago I tried to send a postcard to Sweden – these days that is not possible, and apparently
The beauty of Japan is never more clearly manifested than in the weeks of cherry blossom blooming. Normally I would cherish this time, be outside as much as possible, visit beautiful spots, take a train to the mountains, have picknick with my wife in a park, but this year everything is different. This weekend we