It’s 9pm, PAW Patrol is on the TV. Sabrina is on her phone, I’m on my iPad. Amanda is on the floor, moving from place to place. I can tell she is tired so I say “sleepy walk” and she spins and walks briskly wobbly to her stroller. I put her in the stroller, put my airpods in, and we are out the door. Down the hallway, down the elevator, and onto the street. I push her along and she’s “out” within five minutes. We walk some more to finish the loop and then back up to our loft. I carry Amanda up the stairs and lie her down in the crib next to Sabrina. Amanda sleeps through the night. ...

I’m sitting in a conference room in Topeka, Kansas. Next to me is Mimi. Across the table are two doctors and an intake coordinator. The younger of the two doctors is explaining the program to Mimi. She’s not pleased. The doctor is leading up to his big reveal - he’s researching a hypothesis that a childhood strep infection can lead to anorexia (link). Once the big theory is exposed, Mimi, frustrated, asks for the senior doctor to say something. ...

I’ve been driving since I was 16 and have never been involved in a road accident. Never been involved until today. Twenty of these driving years, including today, have been in Beijing. Driving in Beijing in some ways is much, much easier than it was 20 years ago. The drivers are much better. The roads are great. GPS. Fewer pedestrians crossing the street at random. Traffic laws are generally obeyed. It’s unusual to see a car going through red lights or the wrong direction in a bike lane. ...

I moved to Beijing 20 years ago today. It was to be a two year stint, a life experiment. I didn’t know at the time that “two years in Beijing” was something of a foreigner cliche. It closely associated with another - you come to Beijing for two years and stay for 10. In those early years, hot dogs and tacos were hard to find. Sure, we had Peter’s Tex-Mex at Jianguomen which “did the job” but couldn’t hold a candle to any of the Mexican restaurants/markets on my hometown’s main street. I tried to make my own, tacos and chili with mixed results despite getting supplies from Jenny Lou/Wang’s. Beans and tortillas were especially bad. ...

“Go playground” I say to Amanda (21 months) and she scoots off the coach, grabs her shoes, and sits on the stairs. I put her shoes on, load her into the stroller, and we are off. The playground is in the mall across the street from our apartment. It’s about 35F outside and Amanda’s pants don’t quite reach her socks. A little skin is exposed. A middle age woman has a look of horror as we pass and asks if Amanda is cold. In my best Chinese, I say she is a little bit cold, how about you? Amanda’s pants are typically short and for these short walks I think it’s fine but there’s an ayi (auntie) army that thinks otherwise. This has been the case since I used to walk Lydia and Elisa to the playground many years ago. The ayi army has gotten new recruits and they are relentless. ...

It’s Thursday morning of the day we are supposed to fly to San Francisco. Except we had to cancel our trip and are now figuring out what to do with the day. Amanda stands by the couch and eagerly grabs her milk bottle and drinks it like a good Irish toddler. Technically, an Irish/Italian/Chinese toddler. It’s good to see her appetite is back. It’s good for a few minutes. Then she pukes up everything she drank onto the living room floor. Good news, is we now have a plan for the day. ...

It’s 10am and I haven’t slept much. I walk into Yang’s apartment. Amanda is sitting on the coach having just finished a bottle of milk. Yang’s mom, who treats Amanda like her own grandaughter, beams at me that Amanda is drinking milk. Add a little sugar to it, she says, and baby will drink it. She adds that Amanda won’t drink the milk Sabrina and I give her because it doesn’t have sugar in it. I tell her that’s not true. That Amanda drinks it just fine. It doesn’t discourage her from repeating the successful sugar milk story two more times. ...

Age is just a number. Expat or immigrant? Retired or unemployed? I turned 59 today. On a Saturday. It used to be weekend birthdays were a luxury back when I worked. Way back to a month ago. Now Saturday is much like a Wednesday except Elisa doesn’t need to go to school. I wake up with Happy Birthday texts from Toronto; from Aidan, Lydia, and Yang. Rest of my morning was pretty much the same - while Sabrina, Amanda, Elisa, and Kobe slept, I worked out, then had oats and coffee. Read the latest news - conspiracy theories or collusion? ...

From Toronto, Lydia asks when we are going to open presents. It dawns on me that she wants to do a coordinated Beijing/Toronto opening. I don’t remember if we did that last year or not. We had a lot going on last year. As we did this year. I cooked lasagna and a cheesy chicken casserole. The cheesy chicken casserole was an addition to the Christmas menu since it went over so well at Thanksgiving. I think mostly it went over so well because it wasn’t Turkey. We had Christmas dinner at Yang’s apartment meaning we had to pack up food, presents, Kobe and Amanda. We had Christmas at Yang’s apartment because Yang’s grandmother is there and for someone that makes it seem more festive. Yang herself is in Toronto with Lydia and Aidan. ...

I come down the stairs of our small loft and say to 18 month old Amanda “do you want to go playground?” She spins off the couch and makes her way towards the door. Without prompting, she sits waiting for me to put on her shoes. In these past two months I’ve had off work, I’m most grateful for the time with Amanda and seeing her grow day by day. And seeing her attachment for me grow in the process. ...