All I wanted for my birthday was a MRI. I’ve experienced periodic severe back pain ever since a work morale event in 2000. We were playing basketball and a person who had no right playing but wanted to be part of the gang tried to block my shot and instead crashed his arm into my head (Later he would chip one of my teeth). Ever since that day I’ve had this severe back pain every few months that last a day or so. Sometimes it would last longer but not be so severe but limit my ability to walk to that of a 90 year old man. Recently during a trip to the US and then upon return, the pain incidents have been more severe, lasted longer, and with more frequency. Twice in the past two weeks the pain has forced me to stay in bed and lie extremely still for most of a day, or days. I’ve seen doctors twice in the past to have it checked out. The first was back in 2000 and the doctor said most back pain goes away in six months and my xray was normal. He also said I should lose some weight but declined to give me a specific number at which he would no longer make that recommendation. I did not go back to him. The second time I went to the doctor was in 2005, at the VIP ward of Chaoyang hospital in Beijing. A VIP ward grants you access to pay five times the fees with a doctor who speaks passable English. After looking at my XRAY he said he found the problem but later retracted that it was normal. His recommendation was that I dress warmly and not let the cold wind get to my back as he suspected that was causing my current pain. Apparently the cold wind is very sneaky and can slither it’s way between the sock and the pant leg, up the inside of your clothes, and then attack your back. So, with that as background, I decided to go again and based on the recommendation of a friend with very similar symptoms, ask for a MRI. As luck would have it, I went the afternoon of my birthday. ...

The foreigner leaves the temple and walks west on a small alley near Chaoyang Nei Nan Xiao Jie . Leaves the temple with the singing monks who sing on the hour and the foreigner was lucky enough to be there on one. Leave the temple with the painted roof above the Buddha because the real roof was taken to America in the 1930s and is on display in some museum in Chicago. The foreigner walks west and stays on this small alley even as he crosses the six lane boulevards. He walks west and hears the small vendors peddling their bicycle carts calling out their goods. The foreigner’s chinese is poor and he doesn’t know most of the words for the goods they are selling, but he knows some. ...

I’m running past The Place and then past Silk street and then onto Chang-an Jie. My body feels old, stiff, and heavy. The Beijing night air is much like myself, cold and thick with pollution and while a strong wind may clear the skies for a few days, there is no escaping the return of the soot. I have an image of myself running like my daughter runs – free and light and smiling. I try to pick up my pace but there is no pace to pick up, only an ache here and an ache here. I feel only satisfaction in pushing myself but I am unable to get myself to a joyous exhaustion. Where are those days of youth when I could run until there was no more running to be had. Where no one would want to guard me when I played basketball because I would run them to death. I guess I don’t know where those days are but I sure know where they aren’t. ...

Steve Earle wrote this song called _Nothing But a Child _and when I first heard it back in 1989 it struck me as the truest words about Christmas I’ve ever heard. It goes like this: Once upon a time in a far off land Wise men saw a sign and set out across the sand Songs of praise to sing, they traveled day and night Precious gifts to bring, guided by the light They chased a brand new star, ever towards the west Across the mountains far, but when it came to rest They scarce believed their eyes, they’d come so many miles And the miracle they prized was nothing but a child Nothing but a child could wash these tears away Or guide a weary world into the light of day And nothing but a child could help erase these miles So once again we all can be children for awhile Now all around the world, in every little town Everyday is heard a precious little sound And every mother kind and every father proud Looks down in awe to find another chance allowed ...

**Prologue **Aidan ran upstairs to get the DVDs he picked out for Mommy, Lydia, and in his words zhe ge shi xin didi ( 这个是新弟弟). **Part II **Christmas is decidedly secular in Beijing and the people on occasion are not quite sure about the line between religious images and non religious images. For example, this image is making the rounds in Beijing. (and I thought it was a manger) ...

Today is the day before the day that was and is no more. Six years ago I was glad not to think about the money for two hours. It meant something in me was redeemable after all. Today, however, I am racing through the streets of Beijing. Racing through the cold night air, my eyes looking out for spots of black ice I might slip on. The air full of soot and exhaust and comes into my lungs cold and harsh, like any chinese cigarette. It is late and people are making there way home and mocking me. At intersections I am careful not to trust cars to stop. Drunken men are wandering the streets and I become part of their unreal reality. ...

I come home after dinner with a friend and Aidan is waiting for me. “Bobbi, I want to play baseball” he says. He’s been wanting to play baseball a lot lately. I say “ok” and the game is on. Aidan digs out the plastic baseball bat and the small glove I brought him from the US. One problem, no ball. He starts to dig into the toy pile which sits in the corner of our dining room (we live in kind of a small place – no play rooms for sure). I join the search but neither one of us is having any luck. Aidan asks for the Ayi’s to help. He asks in Chinese and I know the word for ball (qui 球) so I know he’s asking. Soon we have two ayis and myself looking. Aidan, obviously smarter than me, has moved on once he delegated the task. He is now putting on the glove. He mistakenly puts it on his right hand so I show him it goes on the left. Sure enough one off the Ayis finds the ball and the game starts. ...

Despite my efforts to moisten, the skin on the back of my hands cracks and bleeds, a victim of the harsh cold and dry Beijing winters. She awakes to a text message and stumbles out of bed to check it. The floor is cold and whatever warmth she felt while bundled alone under the covers is now gone. How she wishes she had placed the charger near the bed and could avoid this trip all together. She checks the message, it’s from her boss asking where she is. It’s 11am. She text messages back that she’s developed a cold and is spending the morning recovery. She’s been developing a lot of colds lately. ...

I get home around 7:30pm after stopping at 711 to pick up my spaghetti dinner. The ayi’s would have cooked my dinner but Yang is not going to be home in time and the babies eat dinner at preschool, so it didn’t seem fair. Not fair because even if Yang tells them not to wait for me to eat they will wait for me. Part to be polite I guess, part to make sure I have enough food. Also not fair because they would have to cook something for my tastes when they could just cook something they like. Anyway, when I get home Aidan and Lydia rush up to me. Lydia wants me to see her Barbie book. Aidan wants to play fight. ...

We are driving to see the Lady with the Chisel. Aidan is in the back seat lying strips of banana peal side by side. I ask him if he wants to help his father with a Chinese lesson. He says yes. I switch what’s playing on the car stereo to an episode of ChinesePod about calling someone tall. Aidan is not super interested and he asks for another lesson. It seems these ChinesePod lessons, at the level I listen too, actually help his english a bit as they talk more english on the show than Chinese. ...