The end of parental leave, the beginning of everything

The ordinary reality of childcare leave

My six-month parental leave is almost over.
Bathing my daughter Kokeko (or rather, bathing together) has always been my job, but lately my wife has been doing it. Since her childcare leave will continue for a while even after I return to work (※1), she's doing it so she can handle it on her own.

Even so, what is this feeling of being torn apart, even though we won't be living apart from our daughter? It seems that being together constantly has lowered my "threshold" for loneliness (*2). I want to remember this feeling of loneliness.

Question.
Summarize your reflections on six months of childcare leave in 20 characters or less (including punctuation).

I pose this question to myself. There's no way I can express it in 20 characters, but something inside me says, "You're a copywriter, aren't you?" Hmm... Well, how about this?

I feel like I've become a slightly kinder person. (18 characters)

I can almost hear the "Eeeeeh?" reaction. What's with that cliché expression now? Don't you have a message with more edge, surprise, impact, or even a "new arrival vibe" (※3)?

Heh. Who cares about that.

The truth is something ordinary. That's what lyricist Takashi Matsumoto said (*4). I think that might be true.
Having a child and raising them. Being bewildered by first-time parenting. Yet somehow finding joy in it. All of this is utterly, overwhelmingly ordinary. I took just six months off work to dive right into the heart of it. That's all. So, even parental leave, when viewed from above, is just a part of the ordinary.

A day like this at two months old...

By the sixth month, it looked something like this.

Even this might be an ordinary change for those experienced in childcare.
 

Homework, or Hope

On the other hand. If limited to 20 characters, this impression doesn't feel wrong either.

The sense of accomplishment is just too lacking. (16 characters)

Seriously, none at all. I thought I might get some sense of accomplishment or fulfillment, but it was quite the opposite. The things I could do were few, while the things I couldn't do became painfully clear.
I couldn't produce breast milk. I couldn't successfully make dinner. I couldn't instantly wake up to Kokeko's cries. I couldn't figure out why she was crying. I couldn't offer the straw cup's water at the perfect temperature. I couldn't cut her nails properly. I couldn't quickly dress her while she was on her stomach. I couldn't stay awake. I still couldn't produce breast milk.

And there's regret too. During diaper changes, I raised my voice at Kokeko, who kept trying to roll onto her stomach: "Wait!" I cut corners a little when washing her back in the bath. I felt myself getting bored with Kokeko's repetitive care. I schemed to drop her off at daycare and go see a movie (unfinished)... I regret each of these things a little.

I never feel like I've accomplished anything.
Part of it is that childcare lacks clear milestones or goals like "This marks the end of one project." I sometimes wonder if things would be different if parental leave lasted a full year (or maybe not), but enough with the "what ifs."
Without this leave, I wouldn't even know what I'm failing to do.

Even as parental leave ends, childcare itself continues relentlessly. Since this is merely the end of the beginning, I want to at least turn these lingering regrets into hints for life going forward. So many hints remain. Homework. I'll call that hope.

Parental Leave Transforms into a "Childcare Internship"

I hadn't noticed before, but looking around now, I see men who effortlessly handle things I can't manage. Even without taking childcare leave.

People who wake up early, handle all the household chores, and then head to work. People who keep track of the food inventory, quickly plan today's meals, and then whip up three dishes in an hour. People who can hold a child weighing nearly 10kg for about two hours straight. People who come home exhausted from work but stay awake to soothe their child. People who watch over three children at the same time.
They do it all without fanfare, never loudly proclaiming it in places like this (the media). As if it were just one of life's ordinary tasks.

Damn. (4 characters)

Frankly, I think if people like this took parental leave, it would be absolutely incredible. My column's position would inevitably be in jeopardy.

When I started this series, I thought it might be nice if it became an advertisement (a long, long body copy) for the childcare leave system (*6). I still think that, but...

Taking childcare leave is fine, and not taking it is fine too.
That taking it or not is equally a perfectly normal choice. I feel that if only men's childcare leave could become that commonplace.

First, both individuals and those around them need to reframe childcare leave as something like a training program or field internship. As a way for a professional and family member to upgrade themselves in a positive way.
It's a bit of a rough analogy, but perhaps it's best to think of it as something like studying abroad, a temporary assignment, or a long-term business trip (though please don't ask me whether I actually leveled up in the end).

So, how about renaming childcare leave something like this?
"Childcare Internship." Shortened to "Childcare Intern."

Ikutan. Cute. And it has absolutely nothing to do with Erika Ikuta (※7), aka "Iku-chan."
Whether the husband takes on the Iku-tan (deliberately using it as a verb) or not, as long as each family can agree on it, either way is fine. Yes.

If your own family is okay with it, then it's okay, right? (17 characters)

That's what I've come to feel over these past six months.
How often in the world of childcare does someone impose their "shoulds" on others? You should exclusively breastfeed, husbands should take time off work, if they take time off they should handle XX, babies should sleep on their backs, you should stay home for XX months, you should turn off your phone. Most "shoulds" seem to come with a sour expression, sometimes even setting off social media firestorms over celebrities' posts. It's like a minefield of "shoulds."

If we must talk about "shoulds," how about making only our own household's "shoulds" the correct answer? Whether it's acceptable or not in our household. That should be all that matters.

 

Like building a culture for a small country

In our case, we took six months off work together, turning it into "shared time off" and "shared parenting." Thanks to that, we managed to distance ourselves from all sorts of hysterics.

You know those flat-pack furniture sets? The instructions always say, "Assembly requires at least two people." I've ignored that and assembled them alone many times, only to spend nearly an hour on a job that takes two people just 20 minutes. You risk injury, end up drenched in sweat and exhausted, but worse than that, working alone is boring because there's no conversation.
I think childcare is similar (though there's no final product like a bookshelf). The benefit of doing it together isn't just "sharing the burden," but also "having someone to listen."

Where two adults are present, words constantly flow. Looking back, my wife and I were always talking. Words directed at each other, words directed at Kokeko, words about words directed at Kokeko, soliloquies, and that something between soliloquy and full conversation. I think we had the whole range.

That's where our "family slang," like what I wrote about in Part 2 of this series, was born.

It's not just words, but things only we understand keep increasing like this. You could say it's closed off, or you could say it's made us stronger as a family.

In my favorite novel, "Parallel" (※8), there's a wedding scene where this speech is given:

"At the dinner table, just saying 'that' means you know 'that' is the sauce or the soy sauce. Only the two of you know the exact amount of force needed to open that poorly hinged door. The collection of such trivial things is all culture, something outsiders can never possess." (Excerpt) "May you two not be protected by the culture of being husband and wife, but rather build a culture that protects yourselves through marriage."
 

It seems this could easily be adapted by replacing "two people" with "three," "husband and wife" with "family," and "marriage" with "child-rearing."
Like the "kingdom untouched by others, just for the two of us" sung in Spitz's "Robinson" (※9), or the deserted island depicted in Daniel Defoe's "Robinson Crusoe" (※10). Our home, by closing itself off, becomes a small, independent kingdom. Our home with our first child was a new kingdom for just the three of us. There was a sense of building that culture together.

And then, everything begins

As I've already written, there's no sense of reaching a goal, only the feeling of a new beginning. That's why I initially titled this article "The End of Parental Leave, the Start of Parenting"... but damn... I realized that parenting could be the catalyst for everything about home, work, and leisure – essentially, almost all of life – to become new.

How should I work? What kind of job should I aim for? How should I spend time with my family? What should my days off look like? What should I worry about, what should I not fret over, and what should bring me joy?
In my 15 years as a company employee, this is the first time I've felt this kind of freshness.

Twenty years from now, or maybe just ten. The day will come when people say, "Just taking paternity leave made him column fodder?" Even if Koke-ko (a pseudonym) says, "I don't get it. That's lame. And who even is Koke-ko?" I'll just smile gently. Fine. Well, "lame" might sting a bit.

Kokeko probably won't remember her time as a newborn, but that's perfectly fine. Because my wife and I remember. When life ends someday, if a digest movie called a life review plays, some of the moments featured might be nominated from this past half-year.

Well, this marks the end of the monthly serial for now. Thank you very much to all the readers. I want to express my gratitude with both hands full of humility toward parenting and Kokeko's beaming smile (complete with her two front teeth).
And life goes on. The column will continue a little longer as an irregular feature.
After all, it wouldn't be a complete account of my childcare "leave" if I didn't write about how things have been since returning to work.
If reading this column makes you want to consult Uogeri about work, please do get in touch.

For now, there's one thing I want to do first after returning to work.

I want to eat ramen at a ramen shop. (16 characters)

It's been half a year. I want a cramped, slightly dingy place (no offense!). Just imagining it is making my mouth water.

※1
My wife is scheduled to return to work three months after me. That is, if our daughter gets into daycare.

※2
According to Shogakukan's "Digital Daijisen" dictionary, "threshold" (いきち) is defined as "the minimum amount of stimulus required to elicit a certain reaction." People in that state called "doting parents" probably all have various thresholds abnormally lowered.

※3
Working in advertising, I can't count how many times I've been asked to capture this nuance of "new arrival feeling." Regarding men taking childcare leave, it's actually not a "new arrival" at all; as I wrote in Part 3, there are already several precedents within the company.

※4
Takashi Matsumoto (1949–), one of Japan's leading lyricists. For example, in February 2011, he tweeted on his own account, "Truth is something ordinary." He also had a conversation with actress Yuki Saito on the TV program "Music Portrait" (NHK) in February 2017 expressing a similar sentiment.

※5
A straw mug is a plastic container with a handle (mug) and a straw. It is ideal for training babies to grip the handle and to practice sucking liquids. This container is filled with cooled water and given to the baby to sip after bathing or between bites of baby food.

※6
Body copy is a form of advertising copy. While catchphrases or slogans are often short sentences, body copy refers to a cohesive block of text (or blocks) with a considerable number of characters and lines. It is frequently published alongside a catchphrase.

※7
Erika Ikuta (1997–) is a member of Nogizaka46. Her nickname is "Iku-chan." She is also well-known for her piano skills; her piano performance of the song "Your Name is Hope" was adopted as the departure melody for Tokyo Metro's Nogizaka Station.

※8
"Parallel" is the first full-length novel by Yu Nagashima (1972–). Published in 2004 (Bungeishunju). Two wedding ceremonies appear in the work. The author is also active as a columnist under the pen name "Bourbon Kobayashi." Coincidentally, he is reportedly currently raising children.

※9
"Robinson" is Spitz's 11th single (released in 1995), a signature song that propelled the band to breakthrough success. According to an interview with Masamune Kusano, he thought, "I wanted to create something like a national anthem for 'a country untouched by anyone, just for the two of us.'" The origin of the song title is disputed: some say it comes from the Thai department store "ROBINSON," others from the film "Robinson's Garden" (1987, directed by Masashi Yamamoto), and still others from the novel "Robinson Crusoe" (see next entry).

※10
"Robinson Crusoe" is a novel series by 18th-century British author Daniel Defoe. The first installment, "The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe," was published in 1719. It is considered a source of the "shipwreck" and "desert island survival" genres, depicting life cut off from the outside world.

※11
While the expression "zoetrope" is used metaphorically, the actual zoetrope device merely repeats a fixed sequence of motifs (animation). One might speculate that what we actually see at life's end is more like a cinematic "sequence of scenes."