I’m an American living in Japan. I was a bad mother by Japanese standards, and my kids turned out fine.

• I moved to Japan for what I thought was going to be one year of teaching English. 
• I met a Japanese man, got married, had kids, and have stayed here. 
• I quickly realized my American parenting style was not compatible with Japanese parenting styles. 

I came to Japan to teach English for one year on a government-sponsored program. I decided to stay for a second year, during which I met the Japanese high school P.E. teacher who would become my husband. Since he was entitled to lifetime employment and, as the only son, was responsible for his parents, we remained in Japan. Seven years later, I gave birth to our twins.

I wanted our kids to grow up bilingual

I had decided early on that I would stay home and take care of our babies. I wanted them to grow up bilingually with an awareness of American culture. Living in a conservative corner of Japan, they might not feel as if they fit in, but I wanted them to be proud of their origins.

I arranged playdates with other bicultural kids. I read them picture books featuring bicultural characters and wrote and published stories for them about half-Japanese kids in Japan.

I introduced them to American foods, like mac and cheese, and cultural traditions, such as Easter egg hunting.

When my kids started school, it felt like I was doing everything wrong

My daughter is deaf, and so we enrolled her in the early intervention program at the School for the Deaf. Mothers were expected to accompany their kids every day. On one of the first days, I packed a sandwich, potato chips, fruit, and cookies in a lunch box featuring a character from an American cartoon that my daughter enjoyed.

"Isn't that junk food?" another mother asked. She had prepared a bento with rice molded into a Japanese cartoon character, tiny sausages cut into octopus shapes, and carrots that looked like flowers. "You don't give your kids soda pop, do you?"

After my son's first day of school, I attended a PTA meeting at which the homeroom teacher advised us to praise and hug our children. "Touching is important," she said. I had no problem with that. I was doing it already. But I soon learned that all of the other mothers had already enrolled their kids in cram schools. Mine was the only one who didn't know how to read and write and do basic math.

I kept forgetting the things they needed to bring

Not only were my kids poorly nourished and badly educated — by Japanese standards — they were also very forgetful. Or, rather, I was forgetful.

"Wasuremono ga oi," my children's teachers complained to me over and over again. "They forget to bring many things." Although, supposedly, the children themselves were supposed to prepare their stuff for school, thus developing independence, there was no way that they could remember everything without my reminding them. I couldn't remember everything because, well, I was over 40.

Here's what my daughter was supposed to remember to bring one day in fourth grade:

• thermos

• handkerchief (for drying her hands after she washes them)

• tissues

• hearing aid

• five regular pencils, sharpened

• red/blue pencil

• eraser

• straight ruler

• rounded ruler (what is that called?)

• science textbook

• Japanese textbook and notebook

• social studies textbook

• finished homework (three pages)

• renrakucho (notebook for writing down the day's schedule, etc.)

• notebook for parent/teacher communique

• zippered bag for memos, etc.

• 100 grams of salt

• 30cm x30 cm piece of aluminum foil

Here's what she forgot: the aluminum foil, which I had prepared for her but which she uncharacteristically forgot to put in her bag.

Here's what my son was supposed to remember to bring to school that same day:

• various textbooks and notebooks, pencils, eraser, ruler, etc. as above

• school T-shirt

• school shorts

• hat

• lunch

• thermos

• bathing suit

• bathing cap

• goggles

• towel

• pool card

He forgot his hat.

The teachers always said that forgetfulness boded ill for the future. I'm not sure what they imagined would happen if they didn't remember everything every day, but I do know many Japanese adults who forget things.

In spite of these shortcomings and more, I am happy to report that my kids have emerged from childhood in Japan relatively unscathed. They are now happy, well-adjusted young adults pursuing their dreams, as they occasionally eat mac and cheese, read many books, and forget things.