Toddlers are arseholes

It would appear that living in a tiny shoebox apartment while 6 months pregnant with a 2 year old ('I'm two but and I'm nearly getting three!') actually SUCKS.

Don't get me wrong. I know where we are. I know why we're here. I know exactly how privileged we are to be here (I think it amounts to about eleventy gold power bars of life wonder and happiness). This city is incredible and we are free to enjoy it. Sort of. It turns out that this pregancy is pretty boring and limiting in terms of energy levels and chronic pain associated with it. I have new empathy for those with chronic-chronic forever pain. However, once Viv is in bed, and I can reflect on the day we've had in pictures, I am constantly amazed at the things we get to experience here. The images below are from the past 3 days – the reason I'm showing boring images too is to not rub it in everyone's face too much (a little smudge, sure – Tokyo is fucking awesome). While we are getting to do some pretty indulgent stuff, it's also frustrating and exhausting.

Total apartment envy (because I hate the apartment we are currently in). This is a view from a Tokyo University Fine Art studio window. So I also have studio view envy. We went to the 4th year painting show – this apartment was the highlight for me. Look at that wall garden! That's composition kids, learn it. 

Totally overwhelming, frantic and exciting lunch experience near Ueno station. It was a tiny soba noodle bar that once we were inside realised we had to line up, with the folded up stroller, and the small child, with a queue amassing behind us so there was no escape. The menu was entirely in Japanese, but with some pictures. All I saw was a giant bundle of tempura mystery and knew I had to have it. Sorry pancreas. It was stifling hot in the bar but the food was delicious despite having to feed Viv with chopsticks (which I'm told is a massive faux pas). We are still getting used to disrobing coats and scarves and navigating a spot to put them when we go inside these places – many have little considerate baskets under the tables to put your things. I wouldn't think twice about putting my coat on the floor at home – but here it just feels wrong.

There is a lot of walking here AND I'm pregnant. No Peppa Pig unless my feet get adequately massaged. 

Yet another stunning coffee shop, this one in Omotesando (translate = heavenly wonderland of beauty [I made that up]). No babycinos on the menu at trendy Tokyo coffee roasters, but when I'm feeling bold, I ask for a 'shoto miruku for baby kudasai?', which roughly translates as a 'short milk for turdbag please?'.  These places are havens for peace – they almost feel like little galleries. Except when certain people have tantrums at them. 

In yummy mummy heaven at Crayon House. After sitting patiently with a Japanese picture book while I got our food,
Viv told me that the woman next to him was his friend. 

Yesterday Viv and I trekked to Crayon House in Omotesando. It's 4 levels of organic pretention and I LOVED IT. Yes, I spent $19 on a 200g bag of chia seeds, which I tell you I NEEDED. While the food in Tokyo is convenient, fresh and delicious, already after a week my whole system is struggling with white bread and sushi for every meal. I love this alternative eating system which involves you paying a fee for a plate/tray and then helping yourself to a buffet. Forget bain maries of horror, and think platters of incredible salads and dumplings, hotpots of subtle stews and big vats of rice and miso. The food is all chemical free, somewhat mysterious and unlike anything I've had in Melbourne. 

Today we had a similar experience in Ebisu, with cafe 'From the Farm' – a beautiful farm-to-table restaurant, all sourced from a single farm in Chibya. Pick your protein, collect your soup and bread and then load up on beautiful organic salads, veggies, dressings and sprinkles. I was planning on having a quiet solo lunch while Kent and Viv hit the galleries and playgrounds nearby, but it was too delicious to keep to myself! And seeing as I went for fourth helpings of potatoes, I needed the excuse of Viv's plate to keep loading up. Next time I promise to take a shot before I start licking the plate clean. 

I did have to repress laughing when one of the staff members gestured to the giant tub of shredded kale, and said 'the kale is very good'. I promise it was just kale – though given my limp attempt at growing it myself, she was right and I ate a shitload of it with sesame dressing, which is like some kind of Japanese sugar-crack. You could drizzle that on a shoe and I'd eat it. 

Level 3 of Crayon House – the best thing about children's shops in Tokyo is that there is a sample of EVERYTHING, so the kids can play or read while you browse. Sure, I would rather be browsing some new adidas for myself and perhaps a winter mu-mu, but am contenting myself with weird Japanese picture books and german wooden toys. 

Outside our apartment block just off Kappabashi st (kitchen utensil town!) with the little 'ball basket'. I got Viv an extremely overpriced ball at Crayon House (it seduced me with it's soft squishyness, designed for babies, but in my eyes, designed for a 'nearly getting three'-year-old who cannot for the life of him, resist chucking anything and everything as hard as he can. I figured this was likely to inflict the least amount of damage in the apartment. We found this little basket in one of the many ceramic shops (obviously) in the street, in an attempt to contain the ball between home and the park. We only lost it about 4 times, which involved a very pregnant me on all fours in a party goods warehouse around the corner, shoulder deep under one of the shelving units trying to rescue it. 

Just in case you thought we were having FAR TOO MUCH FUN, I thought I had better post an image of the laundry saga. The apartment does not, in fact have the dryer it said it did, nor does it have a clothes drying rack beyond this paltry little sock hanger and a single bar on the balcony. Did I mention our side of the building gets no sun and it is 0 fucking degrees most of the time?! Our host is in my bad books, can you tell? 

About 10 minutes before all the screaming. Though, while he can be a real little shit, Viv is exceptionally good at swallowing his pride and apologising to those affected, even in a foreign language – because we make him. This is at the surprisingly spacious Perch coffee in Daikanyama – incredible deliciousness and for me, worth the screaming. And check out that crazy heater! Don't put table and chairs in there folks, you can enjoy this instead! This is one of the things we love about Japan in general – this western vibe of 'cram as many people in for as much dollar value as possible' just doesn't seem to exist. The above image shows almost the entire seating area. Add a bit more space along the 2 walls and that's it. And the feature heater. 

YogaJaya in Daikanyama. Probably the highlight for me so far.
I love this area of Tokyo – it's tiny and hilly and ... indulgent. 

The second floor studio of YogaJaya – I was lucky enough to go to a class with just one other student (I'm not too sure if many more students would have fit!!). A style of yoga not dissimilar to my own training/teaching, with what I'm guessing is a bit of Pilates flavour too – looking forward to a few visits while I'm here, and again in the future when I'm not pregnant!
I do miss my core. 

Typical binary Tokyo streetscape.

Another noodle building. I think the stairwell is wider than the rooms?

On the Ginza line home. This woman was incredible from head to foot. She would have been in her 70s, and was immaculate. I couldn't help but wonder what she was doing on the subway with that insane diamond the size of my head on her finger, but then again, we're in Tokyo. 

All in all, we've decided that the more time we can spend outside, the better for everyone. It's all dependent on weather of course, and we probably do need to get ourselves organised with gloves and more clothing (oh dang). I don't think my 3 pairs of black leggings and big cardigan are going to cut it.

In case you're wondering about what Kent is up to (what with this being his residency and all), head on over to thesubmachine.net to read reviews of some of the shows he's seen so far. It's incredible how much he's packed in already, what with having lunch at the Australian Embassy yesterday with the diplomats and then going to the Octopus Slide park today with Viv. Sometimes I think we lead a strange life.

xox
Lucy

P.s. This is my first night in the apartment without crunky. It's hard but I think I'm going to make it. I'm doing all I can not to rush out to the convenience store around the corner to buy ALL THE TREATS. Pancreas, spleen: I'm doing this for you guys.