Each time I look at the calendar on our kitchen wall, I feel sick and profoundly sad, as it’s a constant reminder that our trip is too quickly coming to an end.  Of course, we’re looking forward to seeing our family and friends again, but other than that, we’re in no way eager for out time here to end. I can’t yet describe in words how positive this experience has been for me, but suffice it to say that I know I’ll always look back on the past four months (including even “Straight Jacket March”) as being among the most significant, richest months of my life.

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We visited Beijing’s Olympic Green yesterday.  Unfortunately, it was far from a blue sky day.

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I recently made my final trek to Beijing’s Chaoyang District to buy American baby food for Wee P.  Given last year’s melamine scare, and given melamine’s effects on kidneys, and given that Wee P is renally challenged, I vowed before coming here that I wouldn’t let any Chinese-produced food pass her lips.  Even if I could be 100% certain of the safety of Chinese baby food, I’m still not sure I’d feed it to Wee P.

You might wonder how different something as simple as rice cereal could be.  Well, I’ll show you.

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After visiting that square yesterday, Chris and I made our way to the Dong Hua Men Market.  Some of these critters-on-sticks were still moving.

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The Chinese seem to love group photos.  For example, there’s rarely a time when there aren’t hordes of tourists lined up to take shots like this in front of Tsinghua’s old gate.

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I remember asking my grandmother once why there was a Mother’s Day and a Father’s Day but no Children’s Day.  She replied, “There’s no need – every day is Children’s Day.”  I think I’m with Granny Cathey on this one.  Unfortunately, 1.3 billion Chinese people disagree.   June 1 is International Children’s Day, and the Chinese take this holiday very seriously.  In observance of this year’s Children’s Day, P’s school invited parents to spend the morning with their children making crafts and playing various games.

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Especially a rickshaw pulled by a creepy-looking, motorized pig.

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Finally!  P is potty-trained.  Totally, completely potty-trained. I know, I know, she’s really, really old for this, but what can I say?  She was on the verge of reaching this milestone a year ago, but then her world was turned upside down with the arrival of a new sister, followed soon afterward with a move to the other side of the planet.  I figure P was given the perfect recipe for a little regression, so I can’t blame her too much.

What happened?  She simply decided it was time.  What was the impetus for this decision?  Was it the hours and hours of watching Potty Time with Elmo?  Nope.  Was it the thousands of bribes and threats her parents threw at her?  No, not that, either.  It was all about a loss of face, I think.

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My teaching assignment for this semester was divided into two, eight week sessions, so I had one group of students for the first eight weeks and another group for the second eight weeks.  I ran into a student from the first half of the semester a couple of weeks ago and she said that she and some of her classmates had bought a gift and wanted to schedule a time to give it to me.  I was very touched and surprised by this, and we made plans to meet for dinner this past Sunday night.

I had assumed two or three students would be there, but here’s who showed up:

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