Accidentally grabbing my 10-year old's bathing suit instead of mine, Charis and I headed out the door for a few days in Hong Kong.
She was getting tested for ADHD. She is the last kid in our little clan that we see symptoms. It's nice to get more help and tools to breathe life into this sweet girl. China doesn't do much in terms of mental health so we had to travel to see a specialist. I was also needing to get a few spots checked out by a dermatologist.
I did Hong Kong in a more ghetto fashion this time. I found this apartment online to rent out for a few days. Hotels there cost a million dollars and naming rights to your next child. This little apartment was pretty cheap. A bit shady and maybe even illegal, I'm not sure. Anyway, here's the spacious bathroom in which I had to step into the doorway and turn sideways in order to pull up my pants. I just might have sat on that toilet, showered, and brushed my teeth at the same time. If only all of life could be that efficient.
This child of mine takes no normal pictures. We found this incredible 3-story bookstore with lots of English books called Eslite. Our time in Hong Kong can be defined by doctors and this bookstore. Whenever I go to Hong Kong it makes me want to shop, wear make-up, and listen to Sting. I don't even like shopping or make-up.
These people move through the subway system like worker bees. Everyone has a certain path and they buzz along it with earphones and random electronic devices tucked snuggly in their neatly pleated work pants.
This is rush hour traffic in Hong Kong. But I will say, the mere fact that people stand in line there makes rush hour bearable.
We went swimming at Kowloon Park one afternoon. This is an incredible pool. It even had a diving board where the Olympics simply got the best of me. I decided that my 35-year old body could still do flips off the diving board. I seriously almost pulled a hamstring doing a pike dive. Those visions of me wiping down up there on the diving board and throwing the shammy down to the ground like an Olympic diver were indeed just visions and not my reality.
I do not in fact have a picture of me wearing my 10-year old's bathing suit. I'm sure it reinforced the American stereotype of inappropriate skin oozing out of inappropriate places. Ah well.
Thankful to be home. Thankful to have spent time with my girl.
