This morning, I looked for places near home where we could exercise and found some community centers and soccer fields. We got up late and rode to brunch, enjoying bagels, pasta, and fries. During brunch, I saw an open tennis court for the evening and booked it. Afterward, we picked up a tennis racket for Hamer, and she went to her dance class.

While she danced, I explored a nearby community center. The basement gym felt eerie, but once I got familiar with the place, it was better. I ended up in the library and read Scarcity Brain until it was time to get Hamer, who was eager to check out the gym.

Afterward, Hamer did some homework, knowing we planned to hike tomorrow and play tennis later. We struggled a bit with tennis, using an automatic launcher, but Hamer enjoyed using cones to catch the balls. Compared to badminton, tennis felt more challenging, and I considered getting a coach eventually.

After tennis, we went out for dinner, and when we got home, Hamer finished more homework. She then did a dance workout with Xiaoyan while I, exhausted, went to bed early.

Last night, I dreamt about Mr. Zheng. He invited me to join him for dinner.

This morning, as we were heading out, Hamer asked, “Are we late?” It was already 7:45, and she was worried about being scolded by her teacher. She also asked about not eating lunch at school anymore. At the gate, she started crying, saying she didn’t want to arrive that late again.

At lunch, I went out for some testing, taking a walk around the office building. I found several issues and potential improvements. In the afternoon, I revised my work and did more testing on the way home, uncovering even more problems. Testing always seems to reveal something new.

I woke up around 5 a.m., eager to solve the device connection monitoring issue. After searching, I found a useful reference in an old sample, which got me excited to try it out. This issue had been on my mind since my testing yesterday showed I couldn’t properly handle device connections, making the G feature frustrating.

Once at work, instead of diving into the issue, I focused on drafting my 1-on-1 notes for an afternoon meeting with my boss. I ended up writing too much detail, even though I knew it would have been better to just list key points. This slowed me down and kept me locked into a rigid structure. The meeting didn’t go well—I felt like my explanations fell flat. Luckily, my boss was patient and provided feedback, mainly on AI, people, overtime, and leadership.

Afterward, I returned to device management but kept running into issues. Debugging became impossible as the app wouldn’t start, citing a .NET version problem. Despite troubleshooting until the end of the day, I couldn’t solve it. Later, I picked up Hamer, met Xiaoyan at the mall, and treated ourselves to a nice dinner out.

This morning, I took Hamer to try out our new tennis rebound trainer. We changed plans to go to a spacious park near her old kindergarten instead. After warming up with badminton, we started practicing tennis, but the rebound ball was too heavy for her. Switching to a softer ball, Hamer struggled at first to dribble or bounce it. So we decided to use our hands and worked on getting comfortable with the ball and racket, eventually managing to make it fun. By the end, Hamer could bounce the ball five or six times!

On the way back, we ran into Xiaoyan, who was heading out for a facial. Hamer couldn’t decide whether to join her, even as we got home, which made me impatient. She ended up crying, and we called Xiaoyan to pick her up.

Back at home, I got engrossed in the Korean drama “18 Again,” watching until they returned for lunch. In the afternoon, I took Hamer to her dance class, where she handled everything herself—changing clothes and packing up afterward. Later, Xiaoyan and Hamer went out for dinner with a coworker leaving Beijing, while I stayed home, watching the Korean drama.

Our family finally went on a hike today, choosing Baiwang Mountain over the Fragrant Hills, where Hamer and me had gone the previous week. We left around 9 a.m., taking the subway. The hike began with a quick ascent to the top before noon, leaving me initially disappointed by the lack of challenge. However, the day grew more interesting as we descended the northern slope.

There were lots of fun moments: Hamer and Xiaoyan held hands down long stairs, the three of us ran around like kids in an open field, and Hamer attempted a steep slope but got scared midway. We also visited a small pond where Xiaoyan reluctantly fed fish with dropped bread and explored a canyon full of gravel. We even stumbled across a group filming a cheesy but amusing skit.

After the hike, we ate a meal, where I surprisingly ended up eating the most despite snacking all day. Exhausted, we took a cab home, and everyone dozed off. Hamer completed her homework and went to bed, while I lounged on the couch, watching “18 Again” until I fell asleep, eventually deciding to stay there for the night.

Today started early with Hamer waking up and making a simple but satisfying breakfast for us. After breakfast, we exercised together, running and playing agility games until noon. On our way back, we bought ingredients for noodles, and Hamer proudly cooked her own lunch, enjoying every bite.

In the afternoon, Hamer resisted going to her dance class. After some persuasion—both gentle and stern—she reluctantly agreed. After her class, Xiaoyan picked her up, and we went to the mall as promised. There was a small argument over where to eat, but eventually, we settled on an American restaurant. The relaxed atmosphere, a good meal, and arcade games helped everyone recover their good spirits. Hamer declared, “Today was such a happy day!” which made all the small struggles worth it.

By evening, Hamer was exhausted, falling asleep in the scooter on the way home. I, too, felt tired, but as I recalled the day’s small yet warm moments, a sense of contentment filled me.

This morning, Hamer woke up early, climbed into my bed, and asked if she could start getting ready. I encouraged her to decide, and she got ready efficiently, finishing by 7:20. We enjoyed a beautiful sunrise on our way to school, arriving at 7:25, likely the earliest.

After dropping her off, I practiced English, focusing on connected speech. During my commute, I listened to Circle Around’s A World of Music podcast, which lifted my mood, and I even joined in making sounds along with the music.

Work was focused on the G feature playback. In the morning, I worked on reflecting recorded data accurately, and in the afternoon, tackled pause issues. We devised two solutions, including a simplified version of my initial idea, but by 9 PM, I still had unresolved issues and decided to continue next week.

At home, Hamer was calm and relaxed. She had experimented with flour and makeup, washed dishes, and used the gas stove. We trimmed her nails, shared a snack, and read until she fell asleep.

Xiaoyan has had early flights for three days in a row and will be back tomorrow. I hope she can rest well.

Xiaoyan woke up early, and I went back to sleep, not getting up until Siri reminded me at 7 AM. Xiaoyan had already left by then.

Hamer woke up later, worried about being late for school, but after a quick time check, she felt reassured and we arrived at 7:39.

After dropping Hamer off, I read a chapter of Positive Discipline and practiced English. Over breakfast, I listened to All Songs Considered’s Thanksgiving special, which set a warm mood all the way to work.

At home, I treated myself to a chicken leg as a Thanksgiving treat. Hamer had already eaten out with Grandma, so I made instant noodles and helped her with her homework.

I spent the day optimizing the G feature, addressing small issues with icons, crashes, and unit tests. A colleague and I resolved a serious playback issue and agreed to fix it before the final RC.

During lunch, I did a five-part workout: dumbbell incline press, incline curls, RFESS, pull-ups, and crunches with leg raises. I felt exhausted but refreshed afterward, ready for the afternoon.

In the morning, Hamer got ready mostly on her own, and we arrived at school before the gates opened. Her independence filled me with pride.

After breakfast, I resumed my English practice. On the way to work, I listened to two podcasts: one on parents' emotions affecting kids, and another about a girl practicing violin, reminding me of Xiaoyan’s wish to learn it.

At work, I addressed issues with the G feature, adding a DispatcherTimer for smoother transitions and adjusting path recording. The results were good, but my time management needs work.

I got home late, and Hamer called about our shopping plans. She and Grandma argued about her riding her bike. I encouraged her to work it out, but she wanted me to help. When she saw Xiaoyan, she burst into tears, but was soon comforted.

On the way to Hema, Hamer was upset about not riding her bike, but Xiaoyan suggested a shared bike, which cheered her up. We took turns holding it steady as she pedaled.

At Hema, we stuck to our shopping rules: no chips and staying under 150 yuan. We ended up at 151 yuan, a small “splurge”, and went home happy.

Beijing has been freezing lately. Riding my scooter felt like the wind was slashing at my face. After badminton, the cold cut straight to the bone. I considered buying a helmet but couldn’t decide between a scooter helmet or a motorcycle one, so I chose to sleep on it. That night, the first snow of the season quietly fell over Beijing.

Work focused on code review and addressing feedback. The PM flagged some serious issues with a detailed video showing real-world scenarios. I spent the day reproducing and resolving the problems. Although time-consuming, the process was rewarding.

In the morning, Xiaoyan took Hamer to school—we’ve been alternating this task these two weeks. After getting up, I made breakfast, tidied up, and read a few pages of a book. Xiaoyan teased me, “Pretending to be literary?” We laughed as she did her makeup. When she heard a Korean song playing, she said, “We should visit Korea since you’re so into K-culture!” Later, she noticed Hamer’s dirty socks still lying on the mat. I had picked them up earlier but absent-mindedly put them back down. She stared at them, wide-eyed, then burst into laughter, saying, “So it’s true—when people are speechless, they really do laugh!”

At noon, I read Positive Discipline and reflected on its sections about “natural consequences” and “logical consequences.” It explained the value of letting children experience the outcomes of their actions or collaboratively developing solutions instead of using punishment. This gave me new insight into how I could guide Hamer more effectively. I had planned to read this section with her, but we both ended up busy.

This morning, Hamer snuggled into bed, and I enjoyed the peaceful warmth. After dropping her off, I felt calm, a feeling that lingered from finishing my journal last night.

Reflecting on how to guide Hamer, I picked up Positive Discipline. Xiaoyan and I had discussed her unkind behavior toward friends. I considered punishment but felt uneasy, so I decided on a positive conversation instead.

That evening, we talked. I shared my thoughts, and she listened. We agreed on key ideas: respect others, take space when needed, and repair relationships with actions like a note or hug. Afterwards, Hamer eagerly wrote an apology letter, decorated it, and seemed at ease.

Work was light today. I addressed feedback on the G feature and summarized key points on System.IO.Pipelines. Xiaoyan took the day off and picked up Hamer. I also decided to keep my journal concise for privacy and sustainability.

I woke up relatively early this morning, and Hamer and I headed to the small square, full of excitement to continue our training. The weather was noticeably cooler than yesterday, but our enthusiasm remained undiminished. We started with agility ladder drills, ran two laps, and played badminton for a while. Just then, Hamer’s classmate arrived. My original plan was to replicate yesterday’s activities: practicing the agility ladder, then playing tennis, and finishing with the ring toss game. However, Hamer seemed to lose interest in the agility ladder. She felt she had practiced enough and didn’t want to continue.

I insisted on sticking to the plan and tried to persuade her to join. At first, she resisted; then, she ignored me entirely, focusing instead on setting up the props for the ring toss game. While I was practicing with her classmate, I noticed Hamer arranging the materials for the ring toss. Deliberately, I told her, “Even if you get it ready, we’re not going to play it right now.” Hamer probably felt ignored, and her frustration boiled over—she burst into tears out of anger. My patience wasn’t great either. Instead of comforting her, I criticized her behavior. Hamer, now even angrier, directed her frustration at her classmate, saying some hurtful things. What had started as a cheerful morning ended in an unpleasant fallout. Frustrated, we hastily packed up and went home.

On the way back, I felt sorry for Hamer’s classmate and saddened by the conflict. Deep down, I realized the situation wasn’t entirely her fault; I bore some responsibility too. I had approached the activity as a structured training session, trying to recreate yesterday’s joy, while Hamer saw it as playtime. By forcing my plan on her, I had ignored her feelings.

When we got home, Xiaoyan was awake, and Hamer ran to her, tearfully recounting what had happened. This led to a family discussion. While we emphasized that it was wrong for Hamer to say hurtful things to her friend, I also admitted my fault in not planning the activity well or communicating my ideas with her beforehand.

After emotions had settled, Hamer turned to drawing. She made a card expressing her love for her mom and, close to noon, handed me a small piece of paper with a mini apology letter written on it. Reading her letter, I felt touched and reflective. I realized I had been too eager to replicate yesterday’s happiness and had unintentionally ruined the moment. Life often works that way—when we try too hard to force joy, we lose its essence. Sometimes, letting things unfold naturally yields better results.

For lunch, I planned to reheat the braised noodles with green beans from the night before but accidentally turned the heat too high, burning them. With the noodles ruined, Xiaoyan stepped in to save the day by quickly whipping up plain noodles. Hamer and I tried to help, but we only managed to create more chaos. Surprisingly, Xiaoyan’s noodles turned out delicious, and both Hamer and I devoured two big bowls. Grandma, however, found them a bit bland and ate only a small portion.

In the afternoon, our family visited the Beijing Science Center’s Children’s Playground for the first time. Hamer was thrilled and quickly captivated by the science-themed toys and exhibits. The center was enormous, with the children’s area spanning three floors. It was well-designed, catering to children’s interests while introducing scientific concepts in fun and interactive ways. We marveled at the place, remarking, “With a free facility like this, who needs amusement parks?” We stayed from 1:30 until the center closed at 4:20, leaving reluctantly. On the way home, Hamer kept saying how much she wanted to come back.

During the ride back, we debated whether to eat out or dine at home and eventually decided on Domino’s Pizza. After dinner, we returned home relatively early. After washing up, Hamer climbed into bed and fell asleep quickly, looking content and happy. We tidied up a bit and went to bed early as well, wrapping up an eventful yet fulfilling day.

When I woke up this morning, I felt refreshed and energized—it had been an especially good night’s sleep. Around 8:30, I started packing up to take Hamer to meet her classmate for some exercise. Hamer was particularly excited about the agility ladder and rings that had arrived just the day before. She’d seen others playing with them and thought they looked like a lot of fun.

When we got to the venue, we began by following video tutorials to learn footwork drills using the agility ladder. Hamer and her classmate jumped around, laughing and having a blast. Afterward, we switched to playing badminton. Hamer struggled to hit the shuttlecock and became a bit frustrated, so she set down her racket and grabbed a tennis ball instead. We decided to toss the ball to each other, trying to keep it from touching the ground. Our initial goal was 10 passes, but it proved so difficult that we lowered it to 5. When we finally achieved it, we all cheered.

Next, we experimented with catching the ball using rackets and played agility ring games, like throwing a ring and jumping to it. We took turns twice, then tried forward, backward, and side jumps. Anyone who made a mistake had to run a lap as a penalty. I ended up running twice, which had Hamer and her classmate laughing uncontrollably.

While running, I suggested a relay race, and they were thrilled. We ran three laps around the field, working well together. Despite being sweaty and exhausted, the laughter never stopped. The final game was their favorite—ring toss. Using leaves as “money” to buy rings, the two kids had a blast, laughing and jumping around. Before we knew it, it was noon, and we packed up to head home. On the way, Hamer jokingly pretended to cry, saying, “I don’t want to leave my classmate!”

After lunch, we relaxed in the living room for a while. Seeing it was nearly time for dance practice, Hamer and I began to get ready. Before leaving, I told her, “While you’re dancing, I’ll write in my journal, okay?” She found the idea novel and agreed. At the dance studio, I dropped her off and went to a nearby community study room to write. As I typed, memories of the joyful morning filled my mind, and an hour and a half flew by.

After picking up Hamer, we stopped to buy some cake. On the way, she suddenly asked, “What’s a journal?” After I explained, she said, “I want to write one too!” We agreed that next Saturday, after dance practice, we’d bring our supplies to the study room and write journals together.

When we got home, Xiaoyan was napping, so I helped Hamer with her homework. There wasn’t much to do, so she finished quickly, eating a few small cakes in the process and even taking some with her when we went out again. She wanted to join me at the hair salon, so we went together. Along the way, she chattered excitedly, saying, “I love playing with my classmate’s dad; he’s so much fun!” At the salon, I got a haircut while she had her hair washed, thoroughly enjoying the experience.

On our way back, we hurried to buy groceries. My task for the evening was to make braised noodles with green beans since I’d lost a bet with Xiaoyan over who would cook dinner on Saturday. The green beans cost 10 yuan, and the noodles 5 yuan. When Hamer heard the total price, she laughed and said, “So cheap!” I took the opportunity to explain, “That’s one of the benefits of eating at home.”

At home, Hamer spent a long time chatting on the phone with her classmate while I got busy in the kitchen. Xiaoyan stood nearby with chestnuts, occasionally feeding me bites as I worked. It had been a while since I last cooked, so I carefully followed the recipe step by step, washing, chopping, and cooking the ingredients. Though busy, I found it enjoyable. When Hamer finished her call, she came into the kitchen wanting to help, but by then I was nearly done. She stayed anyway, pretending to arrange dishes and playing the role of a restaurant server.

After an hour, the braised noodles were finally ready. Both Xiaoyan and Hamer loved them, showering me with compliments. That long-lost sense of accomplishment filled me with satisfaction.

In the evening, we lounged on cushions and the sofa in the living room, watching Klaus together while relaxing. During this time, Hamer wrote her Christmas wish list for Santa, ready for him to “collect” it. It wasn’t until 10:30 that we slowly got up to wash up and end the day.

This morning, I placed a phone playing a pinyin song beside Hamer’s pillow before leaving the room. After a while, I returned to wake her, and she slowly got up. Just as she was heading to the bathroom, she suddenly mentioned her nose was bleeding. I quickly helped her pinch her nose to stop the bleeding and assisted her to the bathroom, thinking it might have been caused by the dry overnight air. Later, I noticed her nails were quite long—perhaps she had scratched her nose and ruptured a blood vessel. I silently reminded myself to trim her nails in the evening.

While washing up and getting dressed, Hamer was extra cautious, worried her nose might not have fully stopped bleeding. She was even afraid to blow her nose when she saw mucus. Before we left, she grew anxious again, concerned there might still be traces of blood her classmates would notice. Her mood dipped, and her attitude while packing wasn’t great. We left about five minutes later than usual. She seemed bothered by the delay, but I reassured her, saying, “Today’s a special situation; it’s okay. The teacher will understand.”

After dropping her off at school, I felt unsettled on the way home, reflecting on the chaotic morning. Back at home, as I prepared breakfast and coffee, my frustration showed on my face. Once I finished, I sat down to write in my journal. As the words flowed, my mood gradually eased. Later, while getting ready for work, I noticed Xiaoyan’s expression seemed off. When I asked her what was wrong, she snapped, “So it’s okay for you to have a bad attitude, but no one else can?” I wanted to argue but decided to stay quiet.

The morning was spent addressing the spacing record issue I had discovered the night before. Despite revising it several times, there were still gaps. Thankfully, a colleague caught the problem during the Pull Request review and pointed it out; otherwise, it could have caused major issues. In the afternoon, we went out for field testing, and this time, everything went smoothly. Our first Release Candidate (RC) version was completed on schedule, marking a satisfying milestone.

Around lunchtime, on a whim, I decided to hit the gym. First, I had enough time, and second, I worried that if new issues popped up later in the day, I might miss the chance again. I packed my bag and headed out, feeling unusually cheerful. At the gym, I started with some cardio before moving on to strength training. While there, I bumped into a colleague doing heavy deadlifts. Feeling inspired, I decided to try it myself. She cautioned me, “Your back just recovered; it’s better to avoid this exercise.” Ignoring her advice, I went ahead. The weight was heavy, and after just three lifts, my lower back started to feel uncomfortable. I immediately stopped and switched to bench presses, squats, hip thrusts, and a few new machines. By the end, my arms were sore, but most of my body felt fine—except for my back, which was noticeably strained.

Close to the end of the workday, I thought I’d get home early. I called Xiaoyan and suggested we go out for Hunan noodles together. I also called Hamer and invited her along. Picking her up on my electric scooter, we met Xiaoyan near the noodle shop. By then, my lower back pain had worsened. After finishing our meal, we headed home as the night grew colder. Hamer fell asleep on the scooter, exhausted from the day. On the chilly winter night, the three of us rode home together. Xiaoyan teased me, saying, “You’re just looking for hardship—why didn’t you take the subway instead?” But as I glanced up at the sky, my mood unexpectedly lifted. The night was clear and bright, scattered with clouds, and a single shining star hung in the sky, as if guiding our way. In that moment, everything felt just fine.

Back home, Hamer stayed asleep, skipping her bedtime routine before climbing into bed. I lay flat on the floor to ease my back and ended up chatting with a colleague about ideas from our recent 1-on-1 session.

Today, I experienced “Murphy’s Law” firsthand: anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and if you’re worried about something happening, it’s even more likely. Recently, I moved a “sample interval” task on my Kanban to-do list directly into “done” without properly addressing it. As a result, during this afternoon’s testing, the related issue was uncovered—a mistake born of negligence that taught me a harsh lesson.

The day started off relatively smoothly. In the morning, we had a fairly short sprint meeting, and afterward, I continued working on the debugging issue in Visual Studio that I had left unresolved yesterday. Due to .NET version incompatibility, the debugging functionality wasn’t working properly, which had been bothering me all day. Fortunately, I managed to resolve it before noon. However, because I hadn’t controlled the variables well during testing, I’m still unsure which solution actually worked. I wasn’t willing to risk starting over to test again—time is just too precious, and the process too frustrating.

By noon, I had installed some VS plugins and even explored how to batch-install them via the command line. When I checked the time, it was already 1:30 PM, so I quickly grabbed lunch. In the afternoon, I focused on optimizing the device connection logic and made significant changes. Just as I was fully immersed in work, a colleague discovered a critical issue during testing—the very one tied to Murphy’s Law that I mentioned earlier. The overlooked details had finally caught up with me. The problem surfaced at the worst possible time, which was a bit demoralizing. I then spent most of the afternoon troubleshooting, reproducing, and fixing the issue. By the time I finished, it was already past 8 PM, and my planned gym session had to be canceled. On the way home, I did some on-site testing to verify if the problem was truly resolved, only to stumble upon another major issue. Although it was a bit of a headache, I felt somewhat relieved—it was caught early enough. After giving it some thought, I now have a rough idea of how to address it and plan to tackle it tomorrow at work.

In the evening, Xiaoyan supervised Hamer while she did her homework. Toward the later part, Hamer’s focus completely broke down—she was jumping around with Xiaoyan doing exercises, cutting small pieces of paper, and then fiddling with the mini textbooks I had brought back for her. When she only had one page of homework left, Hamer, after washing up, simply declared, “I’m not doing it anymore,” and packed up to go to bed.

Before bed, Xiaoyan and I chatted about some of the troubles she’s been having with her friends. Lately, she’s been receiving a lot of negative energy, which has left her feeling a bit overwhelmed. I listened quietly. Although I couldn’t offer much help, I hoped she felt a bit more at ease and would eventually find her own way to cope. Toward the end of the conversation, Xiaoyan suddenly brought up what happened last night—she asked what I was thinking when Hamer was walking ahead of us by herself. When I told her, “I was annoyed too,” she cut me off with, “Alright, stop talking.” She could sense that what I was about to say wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Even so, we continued the conversation. I explained my perspective and listened to hers. Although she was still a bit unhappy in the end, we managed to get everything out in the open, which was a good thing overall.