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I’m sitting with a class of high risers. A woman whose dark eyeliner I like for the effect she intended says she remembers when I visited taipei. I laugh a little and say i’ve never visited taipai. moments pass. we exchange stories. i thought she was interested in what i was saying, finding my comments insightful at best, funny at worst. which is when she says “you are so serious”. at which point i know it was with contempt at worst and indifference at best that she was feeling. I died a little inside. Which isn’t so abnormal for me but felt fairly painful as my self denial did not work. ...

It is one am and I am in the deep near death sleep that follows a thirteen hour trans pacific flight. I am lying side by side with a blond woman, I think caucasian but could be asian, I’m not sure. I have my arm around her waist and our waists our pressing down hard. Then I am on top, then she is, then she is not and I am not. I know it is a dream because the feeling is too good to be real, too free of any subtext that goes with my non dream state, a too idealized state. Then the dream is over and a fight not to open my eyes and try to reenter my dream but it is gone, lost. ...

It is the night before the HK Disneyland trip and Aidan and Lydia are having a bit of a hard time falling asleep. My initial thought was this was nothing new, as they often are little chatter boxes or Lydia is fussy or Aidan is scared. My job is to come to their room from time to time and settle them down. But I hear a new noise tonight and I’m not quite sure what it is. I walk into the room and Aidan is softly weeping. I asked him what’s the matter. He says he misses Elisa. I say Elisa is in the room right next door, with mommy. Aidan says he is missing Elisa for tomorrow because when we go to Disneyland we are not taking Elisa with us. ...

We have a six year old, a five year old, and a one year old. The other thing we have is eight years of marriage. Well, if we are not counting in the cumulative sense. I was trying to do the math. No, not that math. The kids math. Three kids in eight years. With any luck we should be married another forty years. So that means 15 kids total. ...

I remember the night Elisa was conceived and while I won’t go into details, I often get asked if Elisa was planned or an accident. And despite the answer, here we are, with her at one. I am writing this on the flight to Xian, Yang asleep to my right. Moments ago she told me that earlier today Elisa was standing in her crib, asking for the ayi to hold her. The ayi told her to wait until the clothes were folded. When the ayi was done and went to the crib to pick up Elisa, Elisa waved her off – the rejected child becoming the rejecter. ...

I took Friday off work in order to celebrate Lydia’s last day of being four. I spoiled her, because, you know, she never gets what she wants. I spoiled her, because, you know, the last day of being four is a bitch. I spoiled her because, well, you know. We started out the day at the water park, inside Tuanjiehu Park just on the other side of the 3rd ring road from the main business district of Beijing. While Aidan went on the slides, Lydia was happy to play with another little girl in the shallow water. Next stop, lunch at Annie’s, our favorite casual Italian fare. After lunch onto Fan Dazzle an indoor playground near our old apartment that is still one of their favorites. After a few hour there we headed home for a rest. For dinner we went to Wangjing, sat outside and ate light Chinese fare. Followed by more games, this one involving Aidan and Lydia sitting inside an inflatable clear plastic ball and rolling in water, not unlike this picture for a couple months back ...

About six weeks ago Elisa started wanting to stand. Not, mind you, being force to stand by an over enthusiastic ayi or father, but wanting to stand on her own. It was as if she said the heck with this crawling stuff, I’m just going to jump straight to walking. After all, she has two older siblings who must look super human to her as small people who move among the giants. ...

The phone rings, our land land phone, and I know it is a generational call. Generational because the only people who call our land land are over 70. On the other end is someone who recognizes its me and I recognize they are not so pleased it is me since I don’t speak Chinese. They ask for Yang in Chinese and in my best Chinese I say she is sleeping. It is 9:20am and we had gone to a new popular Beijing nightclub last night which featured Russian transvestites so it can be forgiven if she was still a bit sleepy. The person on the other line says they are Sebastian’s grandmother (mom’s side) and then it dawns on me they must be calling because Sebastian is coming over for the swim club’s race. Then more Chinese, then with my Chinese listening skill I gather they are going to bring Sebastian to the phone so he can translate. I wait. And wait. I figure Sebastian must be going at his own pace, the pace of a ten year old, and I want some more. Then the grandfather comes on the line, says my name, and we both wait. We both wait for Sebastian to come on the line but, well, Sebastian is still on his way to our house from his other grandparents home. ...

On a hot and humid Beijing July morning, Aidan graduated from a Korean kindergarten. Yang and I walked the 10 minutes to his school, through the starbucks, passed a row of simple restaurants offering everything from xinjiang food to casual italian, passed the international hospital, passed the cement twelve story apartment buildings, passed the small shops serving people’s daily needs. We crossed two busy streets, Elisa in stroller, looking both ways. We turned into a small alley and were soon at the school’s gate. The school is called GenMuZanDi which is as international as its name; you won’t find it in any of the school guides for foreigners here. The students are mostly chinese and korean with a couple foreign kids mixed in. From a preparing him for first grade perspective, the school served Aidan well. He had homework most nights, he can do math that some of my siblings would struggle with, he can read and write a fair amount of Chinese. On the other hand, as the small boy in the class and as one of the two mixed boys in the class he didn’t fit in all times. It got better as the year progressed and he came home with his toys and skin in tact. ...

Yang got a call a few weeks back. The ex girlfriend of one of her best friends was getting married and we were invited. On the day of the wedding we awoke early, got dressed in something besides shorts and drove to the west side of Beijing. It was hot and humid and Lydia and Aidan were in the backseat; reusing the outfits they wore for Donnie’s wedding. The bride, Becky, had met a young police officer, a detective. We learned later that his biggest case was breaking up a gang of Alto driving thugs. In case you’ve never seen an Alto, it can be kindly referred to as a subcompact. Seats two, with an engine so small rumors are that it comes with auxiliary pedals. ...