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I am driving home in a surprisingly good mood after the dinner event. But I’m thinking the good mood is because of the escape versus the actual time in jail. I mean dinner. The reason I do not like these dinner party things is because my social skill are nil and I end up feeling worthless, hopeless, and stupid after such nights. That I am sentenced to wherever my lack of volume control in listening and speaking combined with my ill tuned social makes takes me. As I pull up to the stop light at fourth ring road there is a long line of buses in my lane. I do something I’ve very seldom do and take the side road cut in which leads to the … well … side road. The side road has the option of going straight or right, I am planning on going straight. I am about the fifth car in line at the red light, which has been red for a while. At car three is a policeman doing alcohol breath tests. He walks to the fourth car. The light should turn green I’m thinking. Fourth car’s driver passes, he starts to walk to my car. I am waiting on he green which doesn’t come until after I roll down my window. He asks me to blow into a brown, rectangular brick looking device. About the size of a kindle but as thick as a laptop. I blow. He raises is voice and yells something in Chinese. I figure it means he wants my license, which I take out of my wallet which he continues to bark instructions which I don’t understand. My chinese companion is on her cell phone and she hangs up and says “ut oh”. He asks for the other piece of my license which i don’t carry – i only carry the picture piece. He’s not thrilled that I don’t have it. He has me get into the back seat and he drives my car under the underpass where a police car is waiting. I am calm. I am thinking this is not good. ...

It is Saturday night and I am watching Elisa by myself for maybe the second time in her first 18 months. We are getting along fine and I take a seat on the sofa and zone out for 30 seconds. I hear a noise and look down and there is Elisa – dragging her high chair in front of me. This was he subtle way of letting me know she was hungry. ...

Last week Aidan had final exams. Aidan is in the first grade. I’m trying to think back to when I had my first final exams. High school maybe. Yea, high school. But they weren’t that formal and not all classes had them. In wasn’t until college that I really knew what final exams where really all about. And I certainly never got the grades Aidan got, but more on that later. ...

Aidan and Lydia are fast asleep as we land at Beijing Airport, completing the flying portion of our return trip home. The day started out at 8AM PST (12AM CST) with me driving to Peet’s coffee, Jamba Juice, and Noah’s bagel (in that order) to satisfy our family’s cravings on our last vacation day in the states. Back to the hotel I help Yang shower the kids and do the final packing. By helping to shower the kids, I mean I tell Lydia and Aidan to keep their towel wrap on until their mom can tell them what to wear. By helping to pack, I mean I carry stuff down to the car. ...

It is Sunday morning and we are driving over Fangcaodi for Aidan’s piano recital. Yang and I are discussing the one parent rule allowed for the recital. I am inclined to abide by the rules and Yang says, never mind, it’s a silly over reaction to the flu scare and we should just go. Besides, if they complain we will say we have two kids since Lydia is also in tow. When we got to Fangcaodi and made it up the four flights of stairs where the music room is (strangely the stairs remind of All Souls) someone asks who Lydia is and outside of that, no one bothers us and the rule turned out not to be a big deal for those who ignored it. ...

Lydia has been in a bit of a whiny mood over the past few days as she gets over a slight fever. She’s been wanting to spend time with her best friends on this earth not named Aidan, namely Naomi from upstairs and her mom. When she can’t get access to these people…well let’s say it isn’t a linear progression once you get to position four. In any case, she has been practicing the piano and is eager to show me what she’s learned. She can read the music and play the notes in her lessons which impresses me because it is more than I can do. Then again she could just be faking it and I would never know. Every now and again she tells me she will play her own music and she in fact does. I won’t go so far as to say she has a gift – after all there are about 100 million other five year olds in china doing the same thing – but I am pretty impressed. ...

I let it slip that there was one before and that she is now gone. He asks me how it was that she came to leave. And I said she starved herself to death. And I chuckled darkly at his reaction. And we talked about how she was a writer and how because of this I know that I am not a very good one, that I make way too many technical mistakes. I tell him that I left her when she was sick, when the end was coming, in sight, but of undetermined length. That she was ready to go after i left. That she cut the cords on her iv with scissors was how ready she was to go. And I talk about how on that day time stood still and that it still stands still for me. That part of me is still there, at that precise moment in time. Locked in ice. For you see, I tell him, it is not as if part of me left with her – although i am sure some of it did – but rather a good chunk of me has stayed behind in that time. that i’ve lost touch with that person i was then. that this is neither good nor bad, but just is. that from time to time i miss the person i was then. i miss him very much. right now i am missing him. but, then i tell him, just as i sigh, that it isn’t about me now is it. ...

Lydia is coming out of the shower in a better mood than she went into it. Aidan just finished demonstrating he is way better than his father at bubble breaker. Elisa is rounding off her introductory month to the world of infectious diseases with a full blown cold. Me, I’m sitting on the coach typing this listening to music on my latest set of headphones. We’ve been making an effort to put the kids down (why does this sound like something you do to a horse?) by 8:30pm. Mainly this is because Aidan needs to get up at 6:15am in order to catch his 6:45am bus to school. It is also in part because one of our two ayis (this is the point in the narrative you curse me) needs to leave at 9pm sharp in order to catch her bus home. It is also in part, like parents without ayis, we can get some peace in the house for some adult time. Adult time, at our age and energy, spent mostly in our respective corners on our respective laptops. With, in Yang’s case, Elisa tugging at her for attention. ...

I pay for the drinks from a monthly work meal allowance of 600 RMB ($90 USD). A meal allowance that I’m never short of, in fact if I added up my unused meal allowance it would total about 7,000 RMB. Drinks in hand, I leave Starbucks with a Java chip frappuccino for Yang and a green tea soy latte for myself. Three three beggars glance my way, and they do some type of implicit triage and one of them walks towards me. She says “hello” as near and nudges herself into my walking path so that I must either make eye contact or walk around her. I walk around. She slides into my path and is sure to get her paper cup and arm against mine as I walk by. I move my head ever so slightly “no”. Her voice gets a little louder as I pass. “hello, hello” but is never aggressive beyond not respecting my physical space. The other two beggars, move on to other foreigners walking by. ...

I had such an amazing weekend after a hard and productive work week. Friday night was low key, spending time with my two daughters and watching a DVD. A perfect mood setter for the rest of the weekend while my wife had a well deserved girls night out. Saturday came and I was grateful to have the kids all to myself, during the week sometimes I only see them at the day’s bookends. Making them breakfast, taking them to starbucks which is right downstairs, listening to their stories. Played some games with my boy on the Wii and then it was Quesadilla time! Down to the tex-mex restaurant also right down stairs for a hearty lunch. Best thing after a big lunch on the weekend – family nap time! And man, was I out. Sunk deep into that couch. Barely woke up when my little girl came over to show me her latest masterpiece – a drawing of a dog and his food. ...