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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. ...

What a totally fucked weekend. I go through the entire work week deferring and compromising myself saying that I will make it up on the weekend. Sleep in. Read a book. Exercise. Fuck. Write a story. Learn Chinese. Play with my kids. And then the weekend comes and I never ever never ever never ever catch up. I just get more unsatisfied. Take this weekend for example. On Friday night I am supposed to meet my wife for a late dinner after work. Kind of low key. Be nice to go back home and get some after. When she text messages me that she will be playing majong, home late, thanks for understanding. I get home my two daughters are there, one is so tired she is throwing a huge fuss, she listens to me but i want to tune her out. ...

At 6am my cell phone vibrates and before the first ring completes I press a button that makes it stop. This is so much ingrained in my daily routine that I cannot describe what the ring sounds like or what exactly I press to make it stop. I just know I do. I awake, not feeling rested, never feeling rested at 6am, and shower. Aidan needs to get up soon to catch his school bus so I give a shout out to the room he’s sleeping in … “aidan, need to get up”. Showed, shaved, brushed, and toweled I wake up Aidan before I dress. Wake up is not quite right. Yang and I cajole him into waking up, first with gentle reminders, then gentle threats, then just picking up up off the bed. ...

I am sitting in the lobby of the mega spa, one that I wrote about in this space a year or two ago. We are back here because York is visiting and because it has been damn cold in Beijing. As far as I know the cold snap and York’s arrival are purely coincidental. A Beijing winter tradition is to visit SPAs and when I asked Yang about this tradition being in contrast to the general phobia of Beijingers about hot/cold weather she looked at me like I had just asked why the sky is blue. Me, I am not a big fan of the spa in general and in particular being the only foreigner in a spa with hundreds of Chinese. This on the back of a work offsite where I am the only one of two hundred co-workers who doesn’t understand Chinese. So, I’m sitting this one out, in the lobby, taking the chance to catch up on my reading and my writing. It has been a heck of a few weeks in terms of getting behind and not being able to catch up. For my work, for my running, for my sleep, for my time with family. ...

Elisa wakes up in the middle of the night and fusses enough to wake up Yang. Says in something in Chinese Yang can’t quite understand. Then Yang can start to understand her “hē shuǐ 喝水” she says. 喝水. “Drink Water”, “Drink Water”. Yang grabs the water glass and brings it to Elisa’s mouth. Elisa shakes her off. Points at Yang. Yang needs to drink water. Yang needs to drink water because Yang always drinks water when she breast feeds Elisa. ...

As I make the right turn towards the wudaoko subway station a bead of sweat slips off my forehead and hits the tip of my nose. Today is a warm day and it feels like summer is hanging on by a thread. Or a drop as it were. As I make that right turn I notice a young man – late 20s or early 30s – dressed in a baby blue adidas track suit. You know the kind with the matching top and bottom that used to be in vogue when my generation was in vogue and me personally was decidedly not in vogue. I’m not sure why i noticed him, foreigners in that part of Beijing in the late summer of 2009 are not an unfamiliar site. The track suit, yea, it was a little extreme but there are others wearing more extreme. Maybe it was he was crunching into a Big Mac at the time my eyes noticed him. In any case, I made my right and headed east. ...