
March 9, 2026
by Dr. Plastic Picker
It’s Monday morning and it’s one of those days that I originally took off because our youngest also had it off. She goes to a fancy prep school and this is “ski week” although we never go skiing. But she’s been bed-bound for various reasons and healing, and on the upswing. I knew last week I didn’t need the entire day off, and I put myself back in clinic this afternoon to save a precious vacation day for the summer when I can spend more time with both of our children (one who is actually an adult already at 20).
It’s really important for me to work, because working and living under the normal constraints of other people keeps me grounded. Because of the way I was brought up and because of the profession I chose (pediatrician), I know that none of us are that exceptional and that all of us are extraordinary. Does that make sense? We all have our role to play in this world and in this particular time-line.
We hear back from all her schools in about three weeks. She is one of those faces in a see of faces, and each is so beautiful to me and to their community and family. But my eye is always drawn to my child’s face, as your eyes are drawn to your child’s or those that might remind you of someone important.
I am so grateful to be a mother. I got to be to the Girl Scout Troop leader. She was chosen as an Emerging Leader again and it’s her final year. Our actual troop is quiet these days, because all the girls are busy. They have all done fantastic, and I’m proud of them individually as a pediatrician and as their troop leader. But as a mother, I’m proud of my own as well. She gets to EMCEE the Cool Women’s gathering in April, and I bought tickets for her Korean grandparents to attend and myself. She asked if we could three be there, since her grandfather had through her entire child been the one to sew on all those patches she had earned since she was a Daisy Girl Scout. I think after we hear back where she ultimately goes to school, we’ll plan to have their final Girl Scout bridging gathering which honestly we can just do during the summer before all the girls head off to college. It’s too busy right now with the waiting for college admission, getting ready for Prom, prepping for the last final round of AP exams, and thinking of summer plans. She’s my last and only daughter, and she has an amazing summer of travel planned with her friends and family. I’m selfishly involved in two of the big trips including to Denmark where we’ll meet with our human right’s friends and network – something that is now part of her life and part of our family legacy. We’ll fly to Europe every summer now, and I get to watch her form networks and real relationships with families that have known each other for generations now scattered across the world due to circumstances of war and imperialism.
But what I wanted to remember today, is that I had a quiet morning and she needed me to hug her this morning. She had a nightmare, and she is almost 18 and it felt more like when she was little – and just needed me. I was sandwiched between her father who has a broken patella, and a poodle mutt that annoys me on top of my head, and her on my other side. That bed was too small for the four of us, and I was happy and wanted to remember that moment.










