I’m driving the kids home from school with Lydia in the back seat passenger side, Aidan in the middle, and Naomi on the driver’s side. They always sit with Aidan in the middle, I asked Aidan why by could not quite decipher the reason. This being due to both his English language skills and him being eight. Lydia asks me for my phone and I pass it back. I figure she wants to play a game on my phone. A minute latter she is talking the phone, arranging for Naomi to go with her to a birthday party she’s been invited too later that afternoon. And with that I am completely and totally reminded of Yang. ...

He was one of the few to receive a driver’s license in 1974 and took tremendous pride in being a professional driver. He retired a couple of years ago and then became kids driver last winter; driving Aidan, Lydia, and classmate Naomi to school everyday. He is now lying in a Beijing hospital in a touch and go state as he recovers from brain surgery. A minor car accident while driving the kids home from school last Friday appears to have been the trigger. ...

The 10th anniversary of 9/11 has led many to remember their 9/11 experience. Here’s mine. I woke up early like I always do, around 6:30am or so. I went into the bath and turned on KNBR while taking my shower. Gary Radnich’s chatting with Kevin the Rat filtered through the water washing over his head. I couldn’t make out the words but there was something “off” about his voice. When I stepped out of the shower and could hear Gary’s voice clearer I could tell he was talking about something serious and Gary was uncomfortable with it. Gary couldn’t wait to toss the show over to network coverage. I could make out that a plan had crashed in New York. ...

Having just crossed to the north side of Dongzhimen Wai I turn east nearing the eight mile mark of what would become a personal best 15 mile run. A few strides and I hear an anticipatory scream, kind of like what I’ve heard from Yang when she thought one of the kids was about to have a bad accident. I turn to my right as I hear tires screeching. And then a car hitting an electric scooter which goes flying and a 50ish man dropping to the asphalt. Traffic stops and the scene plays out in a predictable pattern, predictable if you’ve lived here a while. The man lies on the ground, on his side, and is still. No one moves to help him. Passerby’s stare and then most continue on with whatever they were doing. Traffic starts to flow again. I look thinking I should help but it also means I need to cross a busy street to reach the man. And if I am really honest with myself I have to admit that my inclination is not to get involved. I decide that if there is blood, then I will go to try to stop it but I see none. After a minute or so the man driving the car that hit the scooter gets out and looks at the fallen man, inspecting him a bit from a distance. He picks up his cell phone, hesitates a bit, and then gets back inside his call apparently to wait for the police. After another minute and with man still mostly still I continue on with my run. ...

Two nannies and a driver cost us about $1000 USD a month and for that luxury we get to outsource the raising of our children. It is high time we fire them all and do it ourselves. Ok, maybe not, but from previous posts you may have picked up on a thread that I haven’t been all that happy with our ayi situation and in this post I will vent a bit about it. Basically, it comes down to the ayis have a different set of priorities for our household than I do. I want active kids, a clean house, and simple food. They want to do the least amount of work possible for the most amount of money. ...

We are walking through Chengde’s Mountain Resort when Lydia comes up to me and shows me a small pine cone with two white feathers she managed to attach to the top. I ask her what it is and she searches for the word in English. She then says “what rabbits eat” and I say “carrot” and understood, she happily says “yes”. Lydia draws a lot and makes things out of other things. I hesitate to use the word “art” but at its essence that is what it is, if you believe art is about creating a connection. In that producing or consuming of art, we feel connected, even if for just a moment. ...

It is Lydia’s birthday and she is playing in her room with three of her friends and Elisa. A loud scream comes from the room. This isn’t anything unusual by itself and I keep working in the other room. The scream continues. I walk into the room and see Lydia’s tall friend pulling the hair of another friend. It is that friend who is screaming. Lydia stands to the side, one eye on the hair pulling and one eye on me as I enter the room. The tall friend who is pulling the blond girls hair is intense and stoic, showing no signs of letting up. The ayi breaks it up and while the tall girl stays for the birthday cake as the other three girls distance themselves from her. ...

Elisa turned three yesterday and my main thought about her is that like most three year olds she lives in the moment, and what a beautiful thing that is. When she wants ice cream, she wants it. When she eats it, she is consumed with eating it. When she’s done with it, she’s done with it. I’m not sure when living in the moment passes and we start to reflect on the past, plan for the future, and simply not be present with those we are present with. But it happens and the next thing you know we are checking our phone to see what our friends are up to ignoring the friends sitting across from us. So I take my time with Elisa, let her draw me into her moments, try to put my cell phone down and just be. Occasionally I succeed. ...

Lydia, the day before your birthday I am lying on the coach watching an episode of House when you come and lie next to me. You watch for a bit but the show is a bit boring for a near seven year old so you get up and go to bed. It is such a small moment showing both your tenderness and maturity. It is such a small moment showing mine. I am so happy with the person you are becoming. ...

A noise wakes me up or maybe I was just getting to a restless stage of sleep. I keep my eyes shut and focus on trying to get back to sleep. I start to drift but the noise continues. It’s a kind of ruffling noise. I’m thinking Elisa’s balloon is being pushed up against a wall but I don’t remember her balloon being in my bedroom. I try to sleep again but the noise continues so I start to wake myself up. As I reach for the light switch the sounds become clearer. I think it could be some kind of animal like a mouse or rat on the floor. I flip the switch and see a black bird circling the room. I let a kind of low scream that isn’t exactly masculine and after the bird flies past the doorway I zip out of the room. After a few minutes in the living room, I decide to do the reasonable thing. Shut the door to the bedroom and sleep on the couch. ...