From somewhere above the sea, between Hong Kong and Tokyo.

So much of what I write about recently is through the lense of a toddler. Our life in many ways remains, its outlines no different from the days before her arrival. We work constantly and travel often. We play frisbee wherever and whenever we are able. We climb, see friends, dine out, and are almost more social than our bodies can support.

And yet.

On this flight I am in awe of the toddler. Not yet three she is comfortable on planes in a way I only dreamed of. She knows the path to the airport, taxi to train, and how many stops. She is ready for the lines and then her spinny cart. She asks if we can go to the lounge and get food before the plane. Then she’s excited to find “her airplane”. She carries her own stuff, in her brand new unicorn backpack, and pulls out her hoodie when cold. Onboard she knows to wait till takeoff to watch, to wait till we are in the sky.

And now, crushing egg waffles onboard Hong Kong Express, watching Totoro in Japanese in her hoodie and sambas, she is a happy little crab, a person in her own world.

I’m so grateful to be here for it.