February 15, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

The climate work has been remarkable the last few days. I’m in the midst of San Diegans who truly care for the earth and a livable future for our children. I’ve been on the phone and in conversations with such influential people in San Diego, and our ultimate goal is to build some climate resiliency for our region. The one thing I contributed is my creativity and thinking of the name and idea of a “Heat and Human Health” Summit to be held at UCSD, and bringing all the healthcare groups in San Diego together to tackle this issue. This will be the first of it’s kind in the country and hopefully a model for other regions.

But in the process of truly reviewing the data from Scripps Oceangraphic Institute and the power point presentations on heat from the County of Public Health, one again realizes how absolutely dire the climate crisis is. The heat waves are here already, and they are only going to get worse. We have to continue to try to address the climate crisis by plummeting our green house gas emissions, but we have to also plan for the more likely future of worsening heat waves. Heat waves drive premature birth, smaller babies, cardiac deaths, mental health flares and violence of all kinds. In looking at the data objectively, I again was met with a wall of climate grief.

Climate grief is real. It is so very real. And when you are a deep in the weeds climate and health advocate, you know what it means. It weighs on your heart, as you look at your children and realize the world that we’ve handed them. It weighs on me, and I’m holding back tears this morning. Last night, a few slipped out as I was laying next to my peacefully blissfully asleep husband. I still have dreams for my children, dreams for my son and my daughter and for their families and future grandchildren. But when you dream, one has to acknowledge that when we make the predictions for a 7x fold increase in heatwaves in 30 years in San Diego – that those that will be bearing the brunt of this are the current children we have when they are adults raising their own children.

Realizing the existential crisis of climate change, opens ones heart. My heart is so open these days. I was chatting with a work friend who is also a climate friend, and we talked about how we are different. Exploring passions and talking about our work and climate with others.

This morning I’m realizing I need to give myself some time. I’ve been on a whirlwind of planning and brainstorming for this conference. “Heat and Human Health” Summit! I think that is a great idea! I just need to bring everyone together, and other’s will be standing on the podium when we do the opening sessions. But you heard it here first dear readers!!!

Love this morning as I think about those that are on this journey with me. Love for our premedical students who have been spreading ideas and inspirations. Love for those at UCSD who have opened their hearts and their physical facilities to this prospective conference. Love for my future family, those that will join us when my daughter and son decide whom they will love. Love for my future grandchildren, in whatever form they will take.

And love for myself today. I still need to remind myself to take care of myself. I went for a short jog yesterday. This afternoon I think I’m going to take a break from the frantic emailing, and buy myself some vegetables and try a new recipe. And despite my teen daughter reprimanding me for mentioning a certain boy’s name yesterday, I will refrain from mentioning that boy’s name but I can still dream for her. I can still plan and think of a fuzzy future. But I realize that I don’t want to be thought too weird so I’ll keep those thoughts to myself! So if you see me humming and thinking, just remember I’m imagining my daughter in a hanbok like myself on her wedding day.

February 12, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

I’m exerting so much self control dear reader by not posting semi-anonymous pictures of the volleyball-cute in her winter formal dress. Also our senior son looked dapper yesterday wearing a boutonniere for the first time. He also had a very beautiful “friend-date” and we did the proper thing and had a matching white rose corsage for her with a black ribbon. She was wearing a black dress and it matched. I haven’t seen his pictures from his phone yet, but the blurry and out of focus photo-booth pictures has the pretty “friend-date” wearing the corsage.

The freshman volley-ball cutie had her own corsage as well that her parents bought for her. It was not the dance experience she expected, indeed all of freshman year has been one surprise after the other. But she was absolutely beautiful and elegant last night, and she was able to curl her hair for the first time and wear a fancy clasp purse for the first time. Other girl-friends who are gorgeous themselves said she looked beautiful and they took mirror selfies together, so she got the pretty girl validation from other pretty girls – which is saying a lot. It was also one of those nights that she realized she’s absolutely an introvert but a beautiful and elegant one. The thumping music and night-club ambience made the complications of her home-coming seem benign. I absolutely don’t know what I did to deserve a teenager that while going into the night-club (where the high-school dance was at), and at the last minute whisper to me “I wish you could come and be my date.” And then later that night after she was home and make-up off, want me to hold her and her confess to me how head-ache and migraine-inducing the strobe lights are. She told me that she’d like to find a boy (after SATs are gone with a high score) who is a handsome introvert who likes books, and doesn’t like the clubbing scene. Can you imagine how happy I was to hear that? Yeah. I’m incredibly lucky. That boy sounds very much like her father. He’s out there little one, just growing up like you are. Hopefully reading a book last night.

And as my two teenagers are growing up, I’m continuing to work on saving the earth and moving the climate work forward. It’s still going to be absolutely close dear readers to mitigate the worse of climate change. Dr. Plastic Picker and extended family haven’t bought our climate bunker for no good reason, we have very good reasons to worry about water scarcity, and air quality and migrate northwards eventually if we aren’t able to avert the worse of things. But we still have a decade to advocate and to act, and at the same time our teen children are living their lives and growing up.

So it’s 638am and it’s Sunday. I’m imagining the week and it’s mostly climate work and writing. I just wrote an email to all my climate friends about maybe having a “Heat and Human Health” Summit this summer. I emailed my Target contact that had offered to collaborate and will hopefully get to do a corporate type meeting on Wednesday! So excited about that one! Then I just shared on my Instagram @drplasticpicker an important article regarding environmental exposures and human health. They are helping us with publishing a commentary on our fossil fuel divestment work as well. We are all like-minded environmental health advocates.

https://www.contemporarypediatrics.com/view/how-environmental-exposures-affect-women-s-health

I think I’m going to actually go pick up trash and just count it on my own plastic picking totals. I’ll post those updates later. I have to finish charts this morning, and then get some headway on one writing project, help my niece organize a Barnard/Columbia webinar on Environmental Justice, and then find a site for the Youth and Climate Arts Exhibition. I also need to clean our house a bit. It’s all really manageable because being Assistant Boss was such an abyss of responsibilities without any power not enough time. Saving the earth is easier than changing work-flows for sure, or scheduling doctors to work! LOL. Happy in my green corner. Sending you green hugs! Also I need to do our SDPCA newsletter too.

February 11, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

It’s 533am and I’m up early with my matcha green tea soy latte! Our 공주 (Korean for princess) was selected for the Stanford Invitational Speech Tournament (which is virtual) and is competing today in Impromptu and Declamation. She’s also been selected for the California State Qualifiers which are next month. It’s been a remarkable time of growth and scholarship for her, and we are proud. Reflecting back, this all really happened after we met a certain boy and family and had our family kdrama. I realized she needed an outlet to dress up and get attention, and speech competitions fit the bill perfectly! We are on to a local academic beauty pageant as well!!! Or at least dreaming of one. I have a close patient family friend who had done those pagents as well, and may get back into it and do it with our daughter. The two girls would be beautiful together and get to know each other. I have been a pediatrician for so long especially to some families, and those families know my heart. To be honest, sending her to private school with the social set she is in – sometimes it is exhausting. I’d rather my daughter be friends with my patients with their values. In the end, your friends should care about you and spending time with them should be something that is fun and joyful. If that is not the case, then perhaps they are not your friends. The teenage years are complicated for her, and my mantra – is less friendship drama the better.

But back to my title, “Trash-Talking Pediatrician” – I think it’s really clever! I might use it in my next talk. The truth is I started using minor profanity (only amongst adults) when I started my pediatric rotations as a third year medical student. I was I think 23 at that point. And then I stopped profaning about 20 years later, around the time I became Dr. Plastic Picker. Those that know me in real life in a professional setting, will know this to be the truth behind closed doors when I would get frustrated with others that I felt were missing diagnosis or providing poor care or when I was just upset about this workflow or that workflow. I tried many times to stop the profanity. Dr. Dear Friend know I had a profanity jar where I dropped $1 each time. And it did not work, even with my uber-frugal self!!! But then it magically stopped around the time I became Dr. Plastic Picker! Poor Mr. Plastic Picker started dating a sweet Vietnamese girl and then she became an F-bomb dropper and now he has a sweet environmentalist pediatrician wife now. But it was an unexpected time for him for sure. I think he still has PTSD from those years. It was stressful to say the least. The reason for the profanity was stress, but also someone named Babak Kalantari who I believe is a radiologist now in LA. He went by Bob. He and I rotated together in pediatrics and he LOVED to profane. I mean he LOVED it. And he was so funny. I picked up the habit from him! I’ll need to have lunch with him soon in LA so that I can tell him I finally stopped. I likely needed the release because those 20 years were stressful.

But I was literally a trash talking doctor because the first patient yesterday was a 3 year old well known to me who hugged me. The mother I’m sure is okay with my telling this story. She hugged me and she was cute, and then showed me her hands! She had the tell-tale lesions of hand, foot and mouth and I said “F*&&^” and that is it. The mother looked at me and laughed, and I looked at the child in horror and then laughed. The mother laughed so hard!!! And then the 3 year old was semi-chasing me around the exam room, and I was trying to stay away from her. I semi-changed my clothes and disinfected religiously the rest of the clinic day. We shut down the exam room as well. I think I’ll be okay and otherwise had a long clinic day and added on patients because it was the right thing to do, and closed most of my charts and answered all my messages and did not leave the office until 630pm. I said goodbye to Dr. M who is near retirement and doesn’t leave until the wee hours of the night for various reasons. He has really great music playing though.

So I was literally a “trash-talking” pediatrician because the above is my trash art with upcycled clean medical waste from work, and also I dropped a profanity at a toddler yesterday.

But let’s acknowledge a truth that all pediatricians want toddlers to know! #donthugmewithcoxsackie LOL LOL LOL

February 9, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

Good morning green friends!!! It’s your local litter picking pediatrician who is still picking up litter and still making trash-art. I realize when my mind is racing with the wonderful projects that I get to be involved in, but wandering too many different places – that I need to come back here to refocus. It helps me sort out my thoughts and what I need to do for myself and the earth.

I haven’t been posting as much because I realize I need to give my teenage children their privacy. I could have an entire blog just dedicated to raising them. But they are living their super interesting lives and I’m joyfully their mother, but trying not to overshare their images. But honestly it’s so very interesting and so much fun!!! Let’s just say our kdrama continues and there is a lot of joy and laughter and strutting up and down our hallway as we dream about fancy evening gowns and interviews. If it comes to pass, I’ll let folks know. But now it’s just a lot of silliness at our house as we break out the high-heels and talk about dreams, in between activities and applications and real aspirations that the children have for themselves. I hope you as well are enjoying your teenage children. It’s a beautiful age-range and I never realized it would be this fun.

But back to saving the earth. I’m going to have a meeting at Target! An actual corporate meeting!! I tell my friends I just go where the earth leads me and I am good about talking about my passions. I think having the super beautiful UCSD students also inspired those that visited us. Someone from Target offered to fund some of our work and I’ve invited myself to the corporate office to check it out! I’m really really excited!

And then yesterday I went to my first meeting as a member of the Retirement Committee. They said a lot of big words and tried to instill the gravity of the position I now hold. I’m a FIDUCIARY and that carries a lot of responsibility. I guess we are collectively responsible for a few billions in pensions. I told them I’m a climate advocate as well, and head of the green team at the Federation level. I really did enjoy the meeting and learning all the new terms. But I kept on hearing the new financial terms FICUCIARY and some other term. But I wanted to tell them, I am also an EARTHLING and would like a livable planet. I’ll be there in person during the first quarterly Retirement Committee meeting! Mr. Plastic Picker took the day off and is going to drive me!

And then I am in the process of co-authoring two papers. One paper on Fossil Fuel Divestment is being submitted shortly one last time to Yale Journal of Biology and Medicine. I’m proud to have contributed a good amount to the last rewrite. And then we are starting a new journal writing project with a new author group. Let me check back on that project right now!

OMG it’s 7:01 AM and I have to get started with the real day. Caught up on all my charts yesterday after being put on the naughty chart list. I’m going to try to keep up everyday and not fall behind. Sometimes climate work and real life is too fun, but I need to remember that I’m actually a real pediatrician trying to heal my patients as well. Much love from your local litter picking pediatrician!

January 28, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

It was an odd night. It’s 644am and it was a fitful night of sleep. The black poodle fluffy puppy (who isn’t really a puppy anymore) kept on trying to squeeze her little body between Mr. Plastic Picker and I and trying to find the warmest spot in the bed. I needed the comfort of my husband’s arms and kept on moving from one side of the bed to the other side, to avoid the little fluff ball who wanted to be in between – all the time trying to not trip over my brother’s Corgi who has taken to sleeping on our floor during her stay with us. It’s frustrating trying to get into Mr. Plastic Picker’s arms. Maybe because I didn’t have that comfort, I had dreams that I had small wart like growths on the dorsum of my bilateral feet. But then in my dreams the growths became little totem like people. Almost like my trash figures! I was so busy in my dream that I didn’t have time to make my own dermatology appointment. And then suddenly I was in a car driving with Dr. Dear Friend, and then Dr. Dear Friend insisted I drop her off at Pediatrics first before I could go to the ED to ask for a dermatology consult regarding the little people growing out of my feet and body. Isn’t that weird???!!!

It’s the morning and I’m going to try to go for a short jog to get my heart rate up, but mostly this morning I’m going to work on reformatting the Fossil Fuel Divestment paper. I’m going to work on the citations and at least I started getting the addresses from our authors for part of the paper (the Yale journal needs the actual addresses of the co-authors). It’s a relief knowing whatever I do will be semi-helpful to the writing team. We are all committed to getting these three writing projects done, as it is vital to stop the climate crisis and part of addressing that is fossil fuel divestment in the healthcare sector. It’s amazing how unimaginative and scared two editors are at other prestigious journals. In the end, our author group will know that they were UNHELPFUL in trying to save the earth and SCARED. I don’t know what is scarier than our world ended up like Vulcan?

But the reason I think I had a fitful sleep and odd dreams, is that we are still waiting to hear from colleges for our oldest. I had no idea that college applications would be this stressful. Mr. Plastic Picker and our son are in a good calm state about the process, but this mother is starting to panic. I had ten thousand and one scenarios in my head. I always have back up plan upon back up plans in life, and it’s unlikely that I’ll need to enact those back-up plans. But they were racing in my head last night. I’m sure other parents who have children applying to college go through the same mental exercises.

But what I will remember yesterday the most, was my sense of surprise and pride. Our son, like all his classmates, has worked incredibly hard through his four years of high school. Mr. Plastic Picker and I absolutely could not have asked for more. He’s taken challenging classes, taken advanced placement exams, sacrificed summers and free time to prep for tests and met his goals for scores and GPA. And during that time, he was a good son and a good friend. He stayed up late studying more nights than I care to admit but also has been part of his school community, laughing with friends and volunteering to do goofy senior things because he genuinely loves his school. He’s done cool internships, done well in college summer programs, and written articles and been on TV and radio broadcasts. And he is a fantastic kid and as parents we know he has the skillset to thrive in his chosen field of study and will do well at any of the schools that he has applied to. And we are still waiting, and we’re absolutely still in the mix. And as some classmates are hearing from schools already and their futures are set, he is so joyous for his friends and celebrating their successes. And he is gracious and there is no sense of entitlement. And that is actually pretty rare for a kid raised in the social circle that he is being raised in. He knows that he’ll earn whatever spot he earns, and he’ll go there happily.

So we wait. We got a no from one school, and now waiting for the other fourteen. But honestly with the handsome kid in the picture, I think we already won the college admissions hunt – because we found him and we’ll keep him! If you are a college admissions counselor, you should honestly just admit him because he’s a really nice kid who is good-looking. You need a couple! LOL. Continuing to be really superficial on my blog. Okay, I’ll log off and try to save the earth now by writing an academic paper.

January 27, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

I’m midway through my 40s, and I realize that I’m naturally a very cheerful person. I was cheerful when I arrived to Cambridge at 17 to start my studies at Harvard. I think I generally was still cheerful after graduating from medical school, but somewhere in between being hazed as a medical student and resident and just life as a mommy doctor – I became less cheerful. But now I’m cheerful again, and back to my natural happy self. It probably helps that I’m back in San Diego, the city that raised me to be generally cheerful. It must be our generally good weather.

So here I am at 5:42 AM and I’m still plugging away trying to help our author group reformat our paper “Child advocacy through fossil fuel divestment.” There are illustrious co-authors on the paper, and somehow through my being cheerful and dedicated to the cause of saving the literal earth for our children – I am also a co-author. I have contributed I believe a good amount to the paper, but it’s again my turn to step up as the other co-authors have grant and IRB deadlines to make. I have some time to sit and try to further the manuscript to the finish line.

But it’s like having an essay due for class. I have to do it! And the last two days I’ve been not actually procrastinating but having to sit and dwell and figure out how to do something that I’m not really well-versed at. I want to learn the skill set, which is why I volunteered to take a stab at it. But it’s taking me longer than likely my same age academic colleagues, because I’m a clinician and not an academic physician. But you know what! After this abstract, and the next paper – I am academic! I declare myself an academic! I have more publications now and I’m super proud of them!

So I’m going to cheerfully go back to the word document I’ve been staring at and dreaming about, and construct a 250 word informative abstract. I have to do it, as fossil fuel divestment is likely the most impactful thing I can contribute to in the fight to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees C.

January 24, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

I had started two blogposts yesterday, but deleted them. They each started with two different images, and were actually almost complete blogpost. But after I had put my thoughts on the screen in semi-coherent fashion, they lost their power and the self-centeredness of the posts were not the right tone for this blog. The narcissistic tones emanating from Dr. Plastic Picker (me) didn’t sit well. So I got those thoughts out, and I then deleted them. Blogging never seems entirely right to me unless it’s that morning time to myself. It’s 5:53 AM and I’m about to make my matcha green tea with organic soy milk, and this is the blogger me that I want to present to you. The early morning quiet is always a better space for writing, especially having had a good nights sleep.

I had taken Monday off as a vacation day, since it was one of those odd Professional Development Days for the kids’ school. I had a long weekend then, and the weekend never ends up being what I expect. It was wonderful nonetheless, because I am very present for those precious moments with our two teens. We were all together, the entire family as the teen children are progressing in their maturation. And it was that, painful growing up through the weekend. Teenage moodiness. Slammed doors. Warm hugs and reconciliation. College interviews and shared worries. Trying to plan for a college future, that we don’t know where our oldest will be. Georgetown, U Penn, Harvard and Cornell – all names that were floating around this weekend. For the other, dreams of Yale, memories of Harvard, and wistful thoughts of as yet unknown cute boy that will one day appreciate how awesome a certain volleyball cutie is going to be. Mr. Plastic Picker and I holding each other tight, as same volleyball cutie storms through another 14-yo emotional maelstrom. And then the beauty of what emerges, two teens and a set of parents every day growing wiser and closer as we spend time together and noticing each other. It was an absolutely beautiful weekend.

It was also an epic climate work weekend, which I did not intend. I had scheduled already an HMO meeting where I was the one who connected our physician wellness director with San Diego Audubon Society. And we have an amazing collaboration that will be announced by others, and media will be there because I stay connected with everyone who loves the earth. And in the end of the day, physicians will be better and the least tern species that nest in our local wetlands will be better due to this shared event. Two other events are in the works and a journal article that will highlight this collaboration has been started, and one of our premedical interns will be helping to organize the writing.

It’s 6:24AM and my matcha green tea with soy milk is half way done. The volleyball cutie is downstairs now and I have to start my mommy duties and doctor duties soon. Much love to the readers of this blog. Thank you for listening and thank you for caring for children and the climate.

January 19, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

It’s Dr. Plastic Picker!!! And a top of the morning to you! Is that how you say it? English is technically my second language even though I was born in the United States, and I sometimes still need to play around with idioms to fully embrace them. And that is also what I do on this blog, mentally explore and creatively play. The goal is to save the earth, but along the way to entertain myself and entertain some of my community – FOR FREE!!! Yes, this blog is non-monetized and actually costs me about $200 a year. It’s not too bad for the cost of a hobby! It’s the fee for the website, and then mostly it’s $150 to protect the site against hackers!

But you have to wonder if it’s the hackers that are reading “the day the doctor had diarrhea”? That was a funny blogpost and it was Mr. Plastic Picker approved. I mostly wrote it to amuse myself and my dear husband. But it definitely made me laugh! And I guess it made some other readers laugh as well!

But I am busy trying to save the earth, and I’m up at my optimal time blogging in the early morning and doing what is most important to me – which is climate work. I ran into a colleague who I would call a friend now, and just stopped by to chat. Even those that know me, I don’t think fully understand how desperate I am. This is still an existential crisis and it’s all hands on deck. I get exhausted sometimes trying to move the needle, and trying to bring along my community. I guess you could call it a hobby, but I’d like to say it’s more of daily acts of survival. We all need to lean into this work. The only way we can stop the climate crisis, or at least try to mitigate it, is to work together.

So with that, thanks for reading along about Mr. Plastic Picker’s diarrhea and my own daughter’s struggles. Your empathy and comments are cherished. They truly are.

But there is so much work to do! Yesterday I made a big splash at the District 1 Decarbonization Community Meeting, and my comment/question was read by Dr. Wilma Wooten.

I’m still unsure how the organizers decided which questions were asked. But my question made it! They didn’t read my position or name, but did read the question. I know the answer, but my job was to bring up building electrification as a health need! So it was definitely successful. The secret most people don’t know, is that I was napping for some of the presentation since it was virtual. I know my stuff, and I have listened to multiple presentations on this.

What else am I doing for the earth today? I’m helping my niece organize a Barnard/Columbia panel discussion on several interesting topics on Asian Americans and Environmental Justice. I need to send the emails out about the next SDPCA/AAPCA3 Climate Change Committee meeting. I’m in the process on being part of another author group on an exciting paper regarding strategic alliances between pediatricians and more traditional environmental groups. I’m interofficing posters of our Youth and Art Exhibition out to colleagues. We have an intern meeting tonight, and I’ll call in to chat with the group. We are getting ready for Love your Wetlands day, and the intern group will be helping. So I’ll try to remember to go over that tonight. I’m trying to make contact with the New Jersey Audubon society to cosponsor or cobrand the New York State Youth and Climate Art Exhibition. I asked for the coffee brands at the HMO coffee shop, and the new employee seemed so tired and sad. She also seemed somewhat annoyed that I would ask for the coffee grounds. I think it added to one more thing she needed to think about. Honestly I needed to get them, and it’s an easy ask and I need to avert methane. But I noticed her shoulders and how tired she was. I will try to stop by and say hi today.

That is enough. Thank you for helping me sort out my thoughts this morning. I’m going to start my climate emails now. Saving the earth, by mostly sending emails! That is the honest truth about how climate work is done!

January 15, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

It’s at an end. It’s at an absolute end, and it’s for the best of everyone involved. It started with a cute boy, then a dress and the heels. And it ends with the dress and the heels. The dress will be worn again, as there are actually two size iterations and two pairs of matching heels. And there is a little 14-year-old girl who had her pride and heart dented. It was so confusing and complex, but in the end it was all very real. And what emerged was a still very young and innocent 14-year-old girl who would rather dream of boys in books, and a pediatrician mother who realizes how absolutely amazing and mature and loving this 14-year-old is. There is so much affection and awesomeness in this person, that it’s hard to not want to share how awesome this person is.

For me there was absolute closure last night, because at some point you know when things are not productive. It’s been healing to be at a place in my life when I realize I don’t need to understand everything, and I don’t have the right to pry. And most importantly I know it’s not my place to judge circumstance, and I don’t need to question intentions. My job is to save the earth, and raise my awesome human being.

And that’s what I did last night. I asked her to take a risk, and to be a kind person and try to be friends. And it was so absolutely hard for her to agree to that. She spent time making something special and was willing to share it, and it didn’t work out and the gift left ungiven. She was confused. And she was honestly hurt again. And the greatest two hurts in her life, I inflicted by being open to new connections and now experiences and wanting those for her.

But the rain that likely contributed to gifts being left ungiven has stopped this morning. Mr. Plastic Picker, her father is up working in his home-office to earn extra money as that is how he loves his daughter. He loves her so much, as do her grandparents and her brother and as do I. And she’s asleep after talking to me late into the night, about her dreams and how somewhere out there – there is an awesome boy who will be her partner in life, but that we don’t know what that boy looks like or who that boy is. We just know that he’s awesome like her.

That things did not work out is okay. Because I seek not to judge, and to make sure I guide my own child through these tough years – I have the freedom to remember and to thank. I’ve since deleted all the images and emails and text messages, because it’s somewhat painful for me too. But I will remember the humor, the writing, the mutual exchange of anecdotes. I will remember a lovely family that I do not understand fully despite so many commonalities, and a family that will go forward and continue to make the world a better place. But mostly I will remember our narrative which is the dress and the heels and the moments my daughter and I dreamed together.

I love you so much. And I actually continue to love the other family and son, as they are beautiful people but just not the right people. Climate work has given me that. To realize I don’t have the answer and that all of us understand the world incompletely, and only have glimpses into the heart of others – no matter how many emails were exchanged.

It’s an unexpected and abrupt end, that I initiated. I wanted to give her closure but it was not the closure I imagined. But it’s closure. And there is a beautiful world out there, and the next half of being 14.

January 14, 2023

by Dr. Plastic Picker

It’s going to rain again this afternoon. There has seen an atmospheric river and apocalyptic amount of rain is being dumped upon California. The pictures from Northern California look horrendous. Here at our house, our saved bathwater is not that useful since there is so much actual rain.

On this rainy day, what does one do when one is used to perfect weather in San Diego? Our two children are in Korean lessons. I’m just thinking about how lucky Mr. Plastic Picker and I are. We had these vague ideas when the children were born, that we would like them to speak multiple languages since we ourselves are native speakers in two different languages. Getting there was more difficult than we thought, even with the family resources and having our own language skills as another resource. But our freshman and our senior are sitting in their respective rooms, taking their virtual Korean language class and I am happy. Both required speech therapy at some points in elementary school, and I honestly was very concerned. But now, our son speaks solidly three languages. And our daughter speakers very well three languages, and now going to formally start studying the fourth.

It’s hard to know how they will use these language skills. But we did our part, we gave them a head start.