Two years ago a client slipped on a wet marble floor at his Beijing hotel. Just a sprained wrist — but his travel insurance didn't cover China. He ended up paying ¥800 at a walk-in clinic and spent the rest of his trip anxious about what would happen if something serious happened. Don't be that guy. I tell every client: check your travel insurance covers China BEFORE you leave. Not all policies do. Here's what to look for: — Medical coverage in China (some policies exclude it) — Minimum $100,000 coverage — Coverage for TCM treatment (acupuncture, tuina — these count as legitimate medical expenses here) — 24-hour English helpline If your insurer says "worldwide excluding USA" — that usually covers China. But call and confirm. Don't rely on the fine print. The good news: China's hospitals are excellent and affordable. An MRI costs ¥480. An emergency room visit for something minor? ¥200-500. Even without insurance, it won't bankrupt you. But with insurance, you travel without that worry in the back of your mind.

Summer break is coming and my two girls have already started their campaign for the best summer ever. My 6-year-old wants to see pandas again (we went to Chengdu last year and she still talks about it). My 4-year-old just wants to swim. Win-win: I found a hotel in Chongqing with an indoor pool AND a panda-themed kids club. Booked it in 10 minutes. Sometimes being a travel planner means planning for your own family too. If you are traveling to China with kids this summer, send me a message. I have a list of hotels that actually welcome children — not just tolerate them.

Sunday evening ritual: both girls in the bath, water everywhere, my younger one using her rubber duck as a submarine to "attack" her sister's boat. The bathroom floor is a lake. I'll have to mop it later. But right now I'm leaning against the doorframe listening to them giggle and negotiate bath toy treaties. This is the part of parenting no one puts on Instagram. And honestly? It's the best part.

My six-year-old just asked me: "Mama, when you die, will you still be my mama?" Out of nowhere. While I was chopping vegetables. I stopped chopping. Sat down. Told her: "Honey, I'll always be your mama. That doesn't stop." She nodded, satisfied, and ran off to find her sister. Kids don't warn you before they hit you with the big questions. They just drop them in the middle of a normal Sunday afternoon and leave you standing there with a knife in one hand and your heart in the other.