Strock Family Blog

ten...

2012-02-13T21:08:00.000-08:00

Ten years of marriage, on the tenth of February this year. Ten feet in our little house. Ten excuses not to go run in the morning. Ten celebrations for my new nephew who was born yesterday. Ten weeks until I run the Boston Marathon. Ten hours of cumulative sleep over the past 3 nights. Feels like I'm ten feet under on my paperwork. Life is a t e n in many ways this week...

Capacity

2012-01-09T20:38:00.000-08:00

On December 19th we received a call from a social worker telling us that two little kids were in a police station because their mom was on a suicide watch and would be incarcerated after that. They needed a home. Would we be willing to take them in? We have an hour to decide.

"I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me..." Matthew 25:35

Mikey and Becka came into our home a few hours later--glassy eyed, dirty, hungry and in desperate need of love and acceptance.

We are all struggling. All five of us. We are in our 4th week of living together, we are finding out more and more about each other, we are loving when we don't feel like loving, we are beginning to laugh at common things, we are smiling when we see their progress. We see their hurt every week when we bring them to visit their family. We see brokenness, we see healing. We all cry. My husband and I cry out. We are desperate ourselves--for an explanation, for a timeline, for time to ourselves and time with each other as a couple. And all we can do is depend even more on God.

My word for 2012, my yearly chosen cornerstone word that I reflect on and measure my world by for 365 days, is capacity. When I reach my capacity, the limits of what a mortal human can accomplish, then I start to rely on God thoroughly and that's when I begin to really live. I reach that moment multiple times throughout the day now; capacity is my mantra that allows me to love these kids, these little people who are still strangers to me, for however long God decides that they live in our home as our children.

Oh and by the way, in case you're wondering--I'm still running...

All of Me

Afraid to love

Something that could break

Could I move on

If you were torn away?

And I'm so close to what I can't control

I can't give you half my heart

And pray He makes you whole

You're gonna have all of me

'Cause you're worth every falling tear

You're worth facing any fear

You're gonna know all my love

Even if it's not enough

Enough to mend our broken hearts

But giving you all of me is where I'll start

I won't let sadness steal you from my arms

I won't let pain keep you from my heart

I'll trade the fear of all that I could lose

For every moment I share with you

Heaven brought you to this moment, it's too wonderful to speak

You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me

So let me recklessly love you, even if I bleed

You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me

It's where I'll start

Fostering Hope

2011-12-26T22:41:00.000-08:00

"God’s will for my life will often be found at the intersection of someone’s need and my ability."

On fostering Mikey and Becka:

Humility. Pain. Joy. Brokenness. Healing. New life. Old clothes brand new. Food. Nurture. Deep sigh. Mercy. Stains. Playground. Doughnuts. Imaginative play. Healing. Warm milk. Wet eyes, wet noses. Assault. Trauma. Bedtime. Tears. Warm bed. Companionship. First bath. Screams. Water play. Routine. Feeling secure. Finally. Calm. Peace.

Will life ever be normal?

My hope is that we will never be the same.

California International Marathon (CIM)

2011-12-05T13:19:00.000-08:00

I am never better than when I am on the full stretch for God. -George Whitefield

This was supposed to be my "A" race of the year, my targeted push to see what I could really do if I tested my limits. And I did, but not in the way that I had intended. While it didn't end up being an "A" in what I had in mind for it 2 months ago, it was still amazing in many other ways. Amazing because it was perfect running weather after the sun rose. Amazing because you run through more rural areas than most race--in fact a guy had a goat on a leash at the end of his driveway, cheering for runners. Amazing because it was one of the most well spectated races I've ever done--lots of people, lots of cheering, and lots of encouragement. Amazing because it was well coordinated and very organized. Amazing because it was all about supporting the runner--which is what I needed.

Amazing because I had two ultra supportive runners by my side. Amazing because Atina, who was coerced into running this race with me 7 days ago as my supporter, ran faithfully and had more energy than I knew she could contain in her little body. She was whooping it up and high fiving spectators and an inflatable Frosty the Snowman down to the last 0.2 mile. Even more amazing was that she hadn't run more than 13.1 miles in months. She hadn't run more than 20 miles at a go in a year. And she ran the whole thing with me and even sprinted at the end.

During the race I had a few short-lived bouts of intense pain that made my cry while I ran and an underlying gnawing pain in my right side from mile 16 until the end. But I did it. Running with biliary colic isn't so bad when you've got the support of friends like I'm blessed to have. So now I enter into one last recovery week of restful running and then I have surgery, and then there will be 3 weeks of complete and total rest. Ok, so I'm going be swimming if my surgeon lets me.

Come 2012 Shannon and I will start training again for the next half of MMRF races, hoping to add some friends and co workers with us as we train. Our next race will be the Napa Valley Marathon in March, 2012. It's been a terrific season.

Because

2011-12-04T02:45:00.000-08:00

Because... I committed to doing this. Because people contributed money to myeloma research for me to run... Because "a good name is more desirable than great riches". Because I've had pain in my abdomen every day since October 18th and even though I'm having surgery in 5 days, my mind is trying to tell my body that it's still in charge.

It's 2:45am and I'm reminding myself of the reasons why running 26 miles today is still a good idea.

The ending of a running season

2011-12-01T11:30:00.000-08:00

“You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself any direction you choose.

You're on your own. And you know what you know.

And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”

― Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

Next week, my autumn running season will come to an end. I'll run my last marathon for 2011 on Sunday and then surgery next week will pretty much shut the running doors for a few weeks. But come 2012... there are more races to be run.

There's this video that my running partner sent me on YouTube that we continually refer to during our runs, usually in some insane moment like 5:00 in the morning. Basically it displays in an exchange (between a runner husband and his logical wife) how obsessed runners are and their unimaginable devotion to the sport despite injury, lack of sleep--basically, sink or swim, that a true runner will continue to run. The runner husband gets injured over and over again but continues to run on his injuries. Finally, the guy gets a stress fracture and stops running. I love the wife's unemotional responses of reason, "You stopped running? And it got better? Do you think it would be wise to not run today so you do not get injured?"

Husband: I am a marathon runner, I must run.

Wife: You are an idiot.

Well I feel sort in that idiot stage. Here I am, a week before surgery and I'm going to run 26.2 miles (I can hear her voice echoing: You are an idiot). I'm not running the marathon because I'm an insanely devoted runner, nor is it because of the super high after the race. I'm doing this marathon because I said I would. That's all. I said I would do it, so I'm running. And it might take me infinitely longer than I normally do, but I'm going to run it and I'm going to complete it. I realize that it's burning the candle at both ends, I realize that my gall bladder may choose to revolt, I realize all that. But, I said I would do it. So I'm going to.

Race recap

2011-11-21T10:34:00.000-08:00

Well, we made it. Way to go MMRF team: Shannon, Tricia and my many gallstones. It wasn't easy, I started to feel pain at mile 3, felt winded more often than I usually do, but there were strategic areas of encouragement that I appreciated. Mile 1.75 was this guy we call the Piano Man who is out there every year, serenading on his keyboard, wearing a tux and playing encouraging ballads like "Chariots of Fire." Then as we neared the end of the long tunnel coming out of the main part of Monterey we heard the eerie echoing of bagpipes. And the best part of the entire race was around mile 8 and again around 10 (out and back) there was this incredible, hilarious guy. He was standing there by his big old self, dancing without music or anything just screaming at the top of his lungs in a hoarse voice "Work it out! You got this!" and had a sign that said "You the sh*t!" and yes, he had the asterisk. I wanted to put him in my pocket, take him home with me and carry him with me on every run from now until next June.

Two weeks and I we're onto Race Four: CIM California International Marathon

The Eve of Race Three

2011-11-19T19:35:00.000-08:00

I have gallstones.

Just like that they showed their scary pain a few weeks ago. Seemed unlikely that something so small could take someone down so quickly... but as time goes on it's becoming more and more effortful to ignore these tiny things that are grating away at my gallbladder lining, sending me into a frenzy of drinking clear liquid for days in order to make it at work without pain and calling for pinch hitters for my commitment to these upcoming races. Like, tomorrow morning. I've had good days of 16 miles runs without pain and bad days of 3 mile runs with intense pain. The pain appears to be unpredictable now. So I have surgery coming up. And I have a race coming up. Like, tomorrow morning.

But.

Recently and in no way coincidental, a friend of mine signed up with MMRF to support... me! As I started to train for multiple races, she's been right by my side training at 5:20am and running hills and track and all the long runs with me. Since I have no team, she has become my team, cheering me on by being here running with me... Even tomorrow, in the rain, we'll be running together. I feel like she's God's gift to me to encourage me to keep going... So, I'll be running tomorrow morning, somehow, with Shannon pulling me along I'm sure.

I just can't give up now

I've come too far from where I started from

Nobody told me the road would be easy

and I don't believe He brought me this far to leave me

Never said there wouldn't be trials

Never said I would't fall

Never said that everything would go the way I want it to go

But when my back is against the wall

And I feel all hope is gone

I'll just lift my head up to the sky

And say help me to be strong

Eight for Myeloma

2011-11-07T12:26:00.000-08:00

Things have changed... in a good way. Now that I got into the Boston Marathon for 2012, I'll be running 8 races instead of 7. I'm considering ending my series with the same race I started with: the San Francisco Marathon. More on that later.

The latest stats:

Goal: $8000

Total Raised: $5341

Growing up too fast

2011-11-03T09:40:00.001-07:00

This is what I'm talking about....

2011-10-27T09:09:00.000-07:00

This is what I'm talking about in my tirade.

This is healing.

Nike Women's Marathon

2011-10-20T09:40:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer. This is a pretty judgmental post. But one I'm guilty of so I'm posting it. This race was.... interesting. It was lovely to be able to enjoy the views as we ran around San Francisco, I enjoyed taking pictures along the way, and it was novel to sort of turn on the afterburners for the second half when I left my friend to finish her half marathon. But overall, the race made me feel a little sad. Actually, very sad. I've been thinking about it for days. This was a decorative marathon. Super fun, super feminine, super money. This particular race is the epitome of monetary expenditure for the fluff of running events. Geared very much toward women, it took out all the stops and catered to our Western faults of commerce and provided things that in my mind were excessive. The expense could have serviced an entire third world country for many years. Instead, companies provided free products to an overweight, over processed, over beautified population. After running over wrapper after wrapper of Gatorade bites I just shook my head thinking, "Seriously? We need all this? We need to process food even MORE to make it better for us?" Not really. We usually process something to make it taste different--make it more addictive in some chemical sort of way so we return to buy it later--but to make our body utilize food better? Who are they trying to fool? And honestly, do these people, me included, need to spend oodles of dollars on "fuel" to run 13.1 or 26.2 miles? No, we have much excess. Much. Excess. I think people might've felt differently if we ran past dirty, hungry homeless people and avoided their feces with our shiny hundred dollar shoes and running gear. Oh wait, we did. And as 22,000 people ran by, I wonder if it made a difference.

I love running, I love how it empowers people but this race was wasteful, excessive and it embarrassed me to be American. My favorite part of the marathon was the Kaiser mile that listed reasons to run. I'm holding on to this... and hitting the trail.

On the Eve of Race Two

2011-10-15T06:58:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I run a race but in some ways it defies my training.... the most difficult part of the run will be to run it slowly. My training tells me to run fast: intervals, time trials, tempo runs--a race defined in my mind is supposed to be FAST. But not this time. It's a race between more important ones and I'll need my legs later. This is a training run, a fun one at that, but it's also a race. How does one dole out sips of energy without loosing momentum, for 26.2 miles? I'll let you know if I figure it out.

Days before Race Two...

2011-10-10T20:11:00.000-07:00

We shot this picture earlier this summer when we visited the place where my husband and I were engaged. It looks like my son is going to run off the side of the hill and jump into a soft sea of white puffy clouds. Sort of what I feel like these days before this upcoming race-- I can't see the end of it. I don't know what to think of it, I've had plans surrounding the race change every week for the past few months and I still don't have a plan. And it's in 6 days. At first I was planning on pacing a friend of mine who was to run her first marathon. Now she's cut her race to a half marathon. I may still pace her and then finish the second half on my own, I'm not sure yet. I'm reminded by another running partner that this race is more of a training run, that the real time intensive race is actually three races and two months away. This weekend is sort of a fun run for me, a place for me to run for a few hours and have someone hand me water, chocolate and a Tiffany's necklace along the way. Oh, OK well I think I can do that.

All I know is that in a few days that trail in that picture above will be 26.2 miles long and I'm hoping the end will be puffy and fluffy and restful.

gazelle or rock?

2011-10-04T09:26:00.000-07:00

My boy climbs in a way I don't understand. He never learned how to "climb" yet he does it like a pro. He smears, he points his toe in the right place on a hold, he extends his arms in the same way I've seen seasoned climbers bend, frame, execute their ascent. He's a gazelle, effortless. In sandals no less. He doesn't wear technical gear, he has a chalk bag for the fun of playing with it at the end of a climb. I don't think he understands his talent.

Then on other days I watch him swim and he swims like a small happy rock. He pushes through the exercises and loves it just as much as he loves climbing. But he just sinks, he kicks with his bent knees flailing. Sometimes I think about my running and I wonder if I'm a gazelle or a rock. I feel myself pushing through the exercises while in this tough "phase 3" of training, but I'm not a happy rock. 5:20am is too early to be on a trail. 15 mile runs between 12 hour shifts and 4 hours of sleep and I start to wonder again why I'm doing this... Then I see my gazelle or the gazelle's dad, and I plod along: finding a cure for myeloma, that's why.

T minus two weeks until the next race.

B2B or not to be?

2011-09-28T11:11:00.000-07:00

If you know anything about me then you know that my motivation about most things in my life is fueled by challenge. The harder something is, the more intriguing it becomes to me. Back in June I got a phone call that did just that: Would I consider running Boston to Big Sur ? (Or B2B as the locals call it). Only a few hundred (mentally insane or insanely fit) runners will run these two marathons back to back next year: the Boston Marathon on April 16th then 13 days later the Big Sur International Marathon on April 29th. For a few minutes I felt taunted by the sheer physical confrontation of it. 26.2 miles was hard enough and I had already committed to the seven races within this calendar year, none of which were less than 2 weeks apart. But I am me and by the end of the phone call, provocation won and I threw my hat in the ring. Deciding was the easy part. Then I had to wait to see if I got into Boston.

On September 12th, the Boston Marathon application process officially opened I've been a lunatic, riding the waves of emotion as I waited for the acceptance or denial of my entry.

Finally, I got the email.

We're headed to Hopkinton, folks.

2011-09-16T09:22:00.000-07:00

Support MMRF and win an iPad 2!!!

Here it is, the raffle you've been waiting for... $25 gets you the chance at an iPad2. You know you want the iPad, and for $25? OK, you know you want to help me fight myeloma which is really why you're really buying a ticket, right? Giddy up, get your ticket. Log onto my website and donate $25 per ticket... Winners announced September 27, 2011.

Good Luck!

Birthday Bash

2011-08-31T12:33:00.000-07:00

We spent a few days at the ocean, celebrating my Mom's birthday. The whole family wore purple tie dye shirts and surprised her when she arrived at a beach house we rented for the weekend. And she thought she was coming to help take care of kids...

The kids read her the poem "When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple" and placed a red hat on her head.

Then we had a more formal bash at a local restaurant during the weekend...

My niece, breaking into Godiva the way every good woman should love her chocolate.

The three cousins stuck together all weekend.

We did some tide pooling and caught some funny looking hotdogs for lunch.

OK, so Uncle Mike makes these cool octopus hotdogs that look like this before you cook them....

Then you boil them and they get all cool and curly!

Of course Uncle Mike also foraged for food out on the tidepools like a true caveman... truly from sea to table in a matter of minutes.

Base Training

2011-08-16T10:46:00.000-07:00

This morning was the first day of the season where I had to use my headlamp to run. This is what the route looks like at 5:30am... All summer we've had a little light to run by. Today it was slightly creepy.

And this is what it looks like during the day. My support team rides their tandem bike with me on days when I don't have someone to run with--I feel pretty spoiled. But lucky for them, I have some dedicated 5:30am running partners...

In January I changed the way I train and started a method called periodization. The impetus was to parallel my eating with the different training intensities since our family changed the way we eat not too long ago for our son's health; I wanted to make sure I didn't poop out in the middle of a run, season, race, etc. So now I focus on different exercises and correlate my nutritional emphasis according to the phase which I'm in during my training. I know it sounds hokey, but the interesting thing is that my husband and I have been runners for years and it's been no big deal, we've entered in some races in order to have a goal. We run, we finish, no big deal. After we changed the way we eat (basically, paleolithic) we ran in races and noticed we were faster, stronger maybe--we actually started winning races we were running in. It was a nice perk.

I think the only way I make it through this is because my ever athletic hubby and son do their supportive thang (biking, hiking, running, swimming, climbing) every single day in order to keep me strong. There are certainly days when I don't want to work out, but my husband is so supportive that he'll get me on the trail and ride by my side just to make sure I get those base miles in. He knows that the most important part of my training is now, so I don't injure later on. I took a few days off from running after the marathon to rest but now I'm in week two of base training. This means running 6 days a week for at least an hour. The next phase, the build phase, starts in a few weeks and adds some track splits and more endurance/stamina stuff to prepare for the more strenuous phase that follows, which is the peak phase. The whole periodization timeframe for me will be 17 weeks which will take me to the end of my 2011 season in December. Then I restart for a 24 week series which will take me to the seventh marathon in June 2012.

The San Francisco Marathon

2011-08-01T10:14:00.000-07:00

If

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

-Rudyard Kipling

About 24 hours ago I finished my first of seven races in this new era of running for me. The race surprised me with the amount of rolling uphills, the ease of the more pronounced hills (because of solid training we adhered to for the last 18 weeks and because I had run them in another race in the past) and the organization of the waves they imposed which really allowed for you to run freely without tripping over people, especially in the first mile. My goal, because of the hills and the Golden Gate Bridge (which most people love but I personally don't because it's so loud) was 4:24. In my last mile I saw the time melt past and I finished with a 4:28:10. My first thoughts as I crossed the finish line were "How many more of these did I sign up to do?!!" and "How in the world am I going to work tonight?"

The things that got me through the hard times (hitting the wall at 15 miles, surprise gradual uphill from mile 14-17, my iPod turning off at mile 20, leaving me with dead air and realizing that I probably had been sucking air since mile 1 and annoying everyone around me):
1. My purpose for the race: myeloma, visualizing faces of my family
2. The Daily Audio Bible, Fight for Life series #4 got me my fastest mile, on the bridge no less
3. Raise Your Glass, Pink was on my playlist at three (surprising) separate times
4. Getting mad at my iPod then chanting my mantra
5. Pacing behind a fit African American guy for the last 6 miles, someone I had no business in pacing after because he was in far better shape than I will ever be.

On the Eve of Race One

2011-07-30T08:44:00.000-07:00

My friend shot this image when she was visiting Denver. I've kept it as a screen shot on my iPhone since then, reminding me why I run. Actually, what was on my phone before that picture, was something you yourself can find if you run the very popular trail in Campbell:

It just made me laugh every time I saw it so I kept it on my phone. On days like today, the eve of a race, I think I need a little more than a chuckle to get me through 26.2 miles. Some people say, have a mantra. Well my mantra has been "Go in the strength that you have," which is a verse in the bible (Judges 6:14). Here's the full version: Then the LORD turned to him and said, "Go with the strength you have, and rescue Israel from the Midianites. I am sending you!" Implying of course, that I just give what I've got and God will take care of the rest.

Most hill runs of the past 18 weeks when I was driving to the start, I would look up to the mountainous skyline and wonder to myself, "I wonder if I'm going to die today (on this hill run)," because each time before I would come to a point where I thought for sure was the end of me. All throughout the 6-8 mile run I would chant my mantra "Go in the strength that you have... Go in the strength that you have..." And when it was all over, I didn't die; in fact the opposite came true: I felt more alive than I had all week. Endorphins. The call of almost all runners to come back for more. I wonder if I'm going to die tomorrow...

Interesting that of the 24,000 people running the San Francisco Marathon, if that was just a glimpse of the general public in California, only 3 people in that entire group would have multiple myeloma. Three. And we have three in our family. Kind of mind boggling.

Seven for Myeloma

2011-07-27T10:30:00.000-07:00

My family has had 3 family members diagnosed with multiple myeloma in the past five years. My father-in-law has died but two are still fighting. The outlook has improved considerably in the last decade but more than 95% of patients diagnosed as having myeloma will ultimately die of it.

Myeloma shouldn’t have to appear in the next generation.

I’ll be running 7 races in the next year to raise $7000 for research and a cure.

Follow the progress here.

Donate directly to the cause.

Coming back to where it started...

2011-06-09T00:37:00.000-07:00

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

-Emily Dickinson

Over the first few weeks of an 18 week training course for an upcoming race, I found myself frustrated and felt like I didn't like my sport anymore. So I started polling fellow runners... "Why do you run?" I'd ask as we scaled hills on Thursday nights. Heck, we have seven or eight miles to kill on a strenuous course, might as well distract ourselves. The responses: Beer. Relationship. To lose weight. To de-stress. Because I can. The sense of accomplishment.

I had to search and reason through my motivation again because week after week of running 17-22 miles at 5am after a 12 hour shift and a few hours of sleep can get old real quick. Then my husband reminded me why I ran my first race. To conquer AIDS. To raise money for AIDS research.

"You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement." Steve Prefontaine

For Prefontaine maybe, but for me, it seems that I run best when I have a cause.

Tadpoles to Frogs

2011-05-09T20:29:00.000-07:00

A few months ago we were on a hiking trip to a local pond and our Mason jar swept up 12 little tadpoles. We put them in our sand/water table and have been feeding them lettuce and watching them grow.

It appears that we have two different types. One is a wood frog, the other is still a mystery. They're all black, medium sized and slow growing. Maybe a toad. We hope they're newt tadpoles. We'll see....

This is our newest froglet... he still has a small tail left but it's shrinking daily.

My Lola

2011-02-04T07:15:00.000-08:00

And with your final heartbeat

kiss the world goodbye

then go in peace and laugh on Glory's side

Fly to Jesus...

and live!

Remembering

2011-02-03T08:46:00.000-08:00

past

This is the house I grew up in.

present

Mom reading to her grandkids.

future

Happy New Year

Four generations

I like the delight on my brother's daughter's face as she watches her great grandmother.

Living by and eating from the ocean..

2010-07-26T22:25:00.000-07:00

Here's MS doing what he loves to do at the ocean. You can figure out for yourself what he's actually doing here. He's not looking at shells.

The last two weeks we've been camping near the ocean, something we do every year for my husband's job.

This year it was relaxing, the weather was lovely, I was able to concentrate on what my full time job is right now: preparing food. It's been a little tough making every meal from scratch, trying to eliminate things we've been eating so casually for years. Like, pancakes. Or chocolate chip cookies. Well, we haven't eliminated them, I'm just learning new ways to make them without grain. Overall, our family has had a great time trying new things....

Like the day we went OUT to eat fish because I would rather my family had a great first experience eating fish made by someone else than have to smile a fishy-tasting smile through an obligatory compliment about my cooking experiment because I really don't know how to cook fish. Yet.

This is my husband's expression after he had his first bite of fish. "Ummm, it's definitely different," my husband said. "It tastes a lot like those vegetarian fish sticks we had the other night." Way to go veggie meat.

And of course MS and his great expression after his first (microscopic) bite: "I don't like it. Is this a REAL fish?" He did much better the next day, ate a whole mess of halibut.

Overall everyone's doing great, having sixty something cumulative years of vegetarianism that we're trying to shed. No tummy aches, no protests, just lots of good (new) food.

Where's the beef?

2010-07-13T16:01:00.001-07:00

MS had this for lunch.

What'd you expect, rib eye on Day One?

The boiled beef? It turned into this.

Then, this.

Nope, no flesh.

End of an era...

2010-07-12T22:37:00.000-07:00

Over 20 years ago I took a Veterinary Medicine Class: Vet Med 170... Animal Ethics. It showed pathetic little newborn calves standing in small spaces bleating weakly, waiting for the day they would be slaughtered for veal. And then it uncovered slaughter houses that were knocking cows out so they would fall, stunned, onto a conveyer belt (breathing, alive) and as the cows were moved down the belt, workers would hack off limbs with a chainsaw until the what-was-once-a-cow came to the end of the conveyor belt basically a stump waiting to be eviscerated.

I became a vegetarian.

Then I met a man who was also a vegetarian. An ovo-lacto vegetarian to be precise. And so the herbivore romance began because I was one of those, too! Together we happily ate eggs and milk along with those friendly fruits and veggies. And so the story goes that the two vegetarians were married, while many discontented Filipino relatives wondered how on earth a couple could survive on lettuce for the rest of their married life. Surely they would wither up and die without pork. Alas, they not only survived but bore yet another vegetable eating human into the family 5 years ago....

And then I became a carnivore.

And so did the husband.

And the kid.

Well, as of tomorrow anyway.

The last 5 weeks of our lives have been consumed with hours upon hours of reading and researching about dietary effects on seizures. Our son only has seizures at mealtimes. Enter ketogenic, modified atkins, low glycemic, GAPS, omega 3 & 6 ratio, low glutamate and asparatate, paleo diets.... you name it, we've read about it, gutting theories and scientific journals and hacking away our dietary beliefs as it thunders down the conveyor belt. That remaining stump waiting to be eviscerated is one in the same: cow.

And so it begins. Tomorrow we eat cow. We started the difficult transition of releasing our views about animal ethics 5 weeks ago and now we are relearning a lifelong habit of avoiding animals as food and thinking of them instead a cure. Life taken to give new life. Wait a minute. I might have heard that concept once before... "For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." -Mark 10:45

Tonight, the Strock kitchen has been breeched. There is beef boiling on the stove as I blog. Bon Appétit

U2 and CS Lewis

2010-07-11T11:26:00.000-07:00

Psalm 40

I waited patiently for the Lord

He inclined and heard my cry

He brought me up out of the pit

Out of the miry clay

I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song?

He set my feet upon a rock

And made my footsteps firm

Many will see

Many will see and fear

-U2, and of course, the bible.

Yesterday, my husband reminded me of this song I loved so long ago. Those who have known me since junior high know that U2 was my band and CS Lewis, my favorite author.... I aged yesterday to an astounding 40 years.... My birthday was wonderful. I spent the day casually with my family: talking, eating, relating. We had a celebration ceremony where each family member expressed their impression of how I've changed over the years (or not, according to my Mom, which is equally as complimentary) and attributes that they admired. I was showered with blessing. And the children performed a poem, reciting and moving together like a play.

Forty is wonderful. Forty feels like the coming of age. I told my friends as we ran this morning that at forty it feels like I'm not trying to be older or younger; I'm not trying to be anywhere else in my life, just here. And it feels great. And of course it sure helps to bump me into a new age category where I can add on 5 minutes to my Boston Qualifying time... Forty fits me just fine.

"I'm not waiting for anything new to happen. Not looking round the next corner, nor over the next hill. I'm here, now, and that's enough." C.S. Lewis

Long Walk

2010-07-07T22:38:00.001-07:00

My husband and I have been listening to this podcast pretty much daily for a little while now (him more faithfully than me) and it has been really enriching--it's just a normal guy, reading the bible. The point is to read the bible in a year, but it really helps to just have someone read it to you. Like you're talking with a friend. And doing the dishes, or driving to work. It's been absolutely restorative to our call in life, especially now as we navigate the through the rough waters of MS's health.

So... Long Walk. What is it? A day out for God, where you just walk somewhere beautiful and listen to God. For the two of us it was a time to come back to our goals in life and figure out if we were going where we wanted to be going, rechecking to make sure we were headed in the same direction and basically looking for the next step for our family.

Here's an excerpt from the webpage of our podcast explanation:

What is Long Walk? Conceptually it's very simple. Every July 7 as a community we take the day off from work and other obligations and responsibilities and give the day to walking with God. It sounds so profoundly simple and yet it's something rarely done. When was the last time you took a full day and unplugged completely in order to give the time fully and uninterrupted to God? And even that isn't quite right because that makes it seem like a hardship or sacrifice. It's not. Imagine that the creator of all wants a day away with you in order to hear the deepest parts of your heart and to speak back deeply. It's there for the taking. July 7 is just a day we choose to do it together.

I just have to say I came away with more amazement and gratitude for this guy I'm married to. Before today I thought I was going to die, much less be able to get out of bed and do a hike like we planned. I had been sick and in bed since Monday morning at 6am, imagining my funeral and calling out small thankful thoughts to Kaiser for my life insurance policy so my family will be cared for when I died later that day.... and my husband was just amazing. More amazing than he normally is, if that can be possible. He promptly called all my appointments and canceled them; of course the fact that he had to peel me off the bathroom floor and carry me back to the bed probably made it necessary. He even called my work. Which is unheard of--in my industry you come in and work when you're sick--I did this when I was pregnant with my son: saw a patient, excused myself to go to the restroom and throw up, went back and finished what I was doing. Some crazy unspoken rule of toughness, but it was obliterated by my husband yesterday and I was so grateful, as I'm sure any person I came into contact with would have been, not to contract whatever vile thing I was harvesting in my body.

And thanks to his profound sense of responsibility and leadership, our family always gets to the place where we need to be--all because of the strength of this man. So thanks to Mr. Incredible--that man that I'm married to--we were able to continue with Long Walk today. And I think we both found what we were looking for...

Wedding weekend

2010-05-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

This past weekend we had the pleasure of celebrating two weddings in our family. Joe was officiating one and we were guests at the second wedding: there are perks to both roles.

In reflecting upon weddings and marriage it was pretty evident that our culture embraces weddings as a celebration and joyous time. But the culture of marriage in our country doesn't seem to reflect longstanding value. It's not flashy or sexy, it can be discarded or replaced at will. I think the two couples that were married over the weekend have an incredible advantage: they were older when they chose to get married. All four are responsible adults, they know themselves well, they have been together for a long time, they made a cautious and intentional decision to commit themselves for life. This was what I celebrated this weekend.

MS was stellar at his role of ringbearer. The surprising delight of the weekend was how much MS was enthralled with dancing; he then took his cousin onto the dance floor, dancing with her for about an hour, giggling away with some pretty fancy footwork. As we were leaving the reception he asked, "Can we come back to this store again? Is there dancing at the wedding tomorrow, too?"

Running into the month of May

2010-05-07T11:55:00.000-07:00

MS is finally F I V E !!

And super happy about it.

I'm going through an intensive (self inflicted) training where I'm learning to pace, do intervals, hills, fartleks, tempos, you name it. Fortunately I have a very supportive husband who allows me to run in the mornings in addition to strength and core training. I have some incredible women training with me... a few of us are training seriously for speed. And of course I'm training with a pretty speedy 5 year old, too.

Why should I practice running slow? I already know how to run slow. I want to learn to run fast. Everyone said: 'You are a fool!' But when I first won the European Championship, they said: 'You are a genius!'

Emil Zatopek on interval training. He won the 5000, 10,000, and the marathon at the 1952 Olympics

celebrate...

2010-03-23T13:43:00.000-07:00

Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God.

They were filled with awe and said,

"We have seen remarkable things today."

Luke 5:26

In the beginning of 2010 a few girlfriends and I spent some time by the ocean coming up with our new years resolutions. From those goals we selected a single word that was a touchstone, a sort of compass by which all other events and decisions in our lives would be evaluated against throughout the year. Then we sewed our words onto colorful banners and hung them in places we would see daily, reminding us of our commitment to our resolutions and each other. My word was "celebrate."

Last week we got the incredible news that MS's EEG was clear--he no longer has the evidence seizure activity in his brain. We have already started the process of weaning him off his medication and continue to loosen the grip of safety which we've held so tightly to for the past two years. When I look back to the past year and a half and all this little guy has gone through, I'm amazed that something so earth-shattering can be healed. And so quickly. We are thanking God minute by minute for this amazing miracle.

The last few months we had been thinking about kindergarten next year, wondering which school in our area MS might be able to contribute the most to in his little world. This week we found out that MS was accepted into a school in our district that we've really been hoping he would be able to attend. The admission process is completely via lottery, and the chances were beyond slim, but MS's name was drawn. I cannot believe the enormity of our blessing these last two weeks. Again, we are thanking God as we go through our normal lives, free of the bounds of epilepsy and I am reminded that God has a specific plan for our little guy; all of this is preparation for his future. Something is planned for him indeed.

I have been amazed... And, I've been celebrating.

twenty two... thirty one

2010-03-15T17:35:00.000-07:00

22 electrodes on M's head for his EEG last week...

Here he is almost passed out before his EEG, we had to sleep deprive him the night before and the morning of in order to make him nap during the test. He was a trooper, slept right away and throughout the test. We meet with his neurologist this week.

31 flavors of course. Everyone should have ice cream after going to the hospital.

This is more typical M personality these days... He doesn't really need sugar.

testing the limits

2010-03-07T12:38:00.000-08:00

We'll find out soon whether or not our little guy has outgrown his seizure disorder. Later this week he'll have another EEG, then our neurologist will either allow us to take him off medication if it looks good, or keep him on it and wait another year to retest him.

For the past month we've been testing the limits of our seizure net and riding with MS on the tandem. He loves riding the big bike and Joe loves being able to get around town without having to tow him in the bike carrier.

new pets

2010-03-04T17:46:00.000-08:00

Friends at preschool have gotten into the habit of bringing critters they find in their backyards and giving them to MS. He loves it. So far we've gotten away with catch and release of a few salamanders and newts after keeping them a few hours or day. Until this week. A friend brought him 2 blue bellied lizards. Oh my, he was in love. So, they live in a fishtank. In his bedroom.

Our days are spent in search of creepy crawly food for our new pets. Today you would think we would find a creature when we went hiking in the redwoods but alas, no, it was on some lettuce in our refrigerator. Poor bug was consumed quite quickly by our new guests.

Haiti slideshow

2010-02-22T23:22:00.000-08:00

Last weekend we did a little recap of our time in Haiti... It was therapeutic I think, to share what we've experienced and relive a little bit of Haiti through pictures and music. It was great to see my teammates again; they are each such incredible people.

Grab some Kleenex and watch the slideshow.

coastal weekend

2010-02-13T11:52:00.001-08:00

We decided about a month ago to make this weekend a surfing getaway weekend... little did we know that Mavericks would be called for today. Waves are waaaaay too big to ride, but really nice to watch!

Today I'm glad my husband's on the beach and not in the water...

a journal entry from Haiti

2010-02-09T22:17:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine and fellow teammate on this Haiti trip wrote this in his journal on our way back to the states. It has been the best explanation I can think of when anyone asks me "How was Haiti?"

Read on. It's long, but if you want to know how it really was, this is it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s Wednesday February 3rd, 2010. I am sitting on a airplane returning back from Haiti to San Jose. It’s been approximately 24 hours after I have stepped off our campsite. It’s a very bittersweet moment right now because being in Haiti was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, and yet at the same time the worst. I’m trying really hard to resolve my feelings about the whole trip and wonder why I can’t stop crying. I imagine the inevitable moment when my friends begin to ask me about the trip, and honestly I don’t feel I can handle it right now.

I’m trying to understand why it’s all hitting me right now, why I’m getting so emotional. But during the trip I was so strong. I guess we had to be strong for each other otherwise we wouldn’t make it. The only theory I can come up with is that we were in constant “Fight or Flight” mode, nonstop for a week. Constant adrenaline, fearing the unknown, having to be ready for anything at any moment, constantly looking over your shoulder, worrying about each other, and braving the elements. When I say “Fight or flight”, its physical, its mental, and its spiritual. You can only be in that mode for so long before you crack. I think I’ve cracked….

Physically, you kind of feel like a hunted animal, scared and hungry. From the beginning, we were not guaranteed food and water. We were always wondering when we were going to take a break for just a sip of water, or a bit of jerky during the long work days. Living on Power bars, maybe two or three a day. I never want to eat a power bar again. And if food did come, I would shovel it in my mouth on an empty, hungry stomach because we weren’t sure when the next meal was going to be. We definitely consumed less than our 2000 calories a day that we are used to. We were losing weight every day. And even though we were blessed with purified water, when we were out in the field, we could only take so much water with us for space issues. And it was never a comfortable situation when you wanted to take a sip of water or eat in front of the native people for feelings of guilt or fear that they would take what they could get.

Physically facing the elements was also very challenging. We were in the hot sun all day. When we traveled, we were packed into crowded trucks with 15 other people and all our supplies. The trucks have little or no ventilation, and the ventilation that we did have was usually dusty, smelly air. For someone with asthma like me, your lungs start to burn. At night, we lived in a crowded camp. The first night just sleeping out in the open with no tent and mosquito bites for days. Hygiene was never optimal. At night we would go to bed sweaty and dusty, then having to put mosquito repellant on top of our already sticky skin. Bathroom conditions were disgusting. Imagine the worse Port-o-potty and then imagine it not cleaned for a week. Unsure if the liquid on the floor you were stepping in was from a leaky toilet, or someone’s piss. And there was only room for 3 pairs of scrubs. So imagine how dirty we feel after a day at the hospital….imagine having to put those clothes back on for two more days. And Yes, we have scabies and lice.

“Fight or Flight” was not limited to physical conditions but also ruled our mental state as well. From the beginning we were told that we may not have a way to get back home. That was one of the hardest things for me to handle. Also, we were told that food and water were not guaranteed. During the very first meeting we had at the airport with a departing team, they told us that their camp was invaded by hungry desperate people. They warned us to hold onto our bags tightly because people may try to jump on our trucks and take our things. And when we prayed for the first time, the guy prayed for our safety that no one would get hurt, and prayed for our lives. I started to hyperventilate. I was really scared. During our outings into the community, things could appear fine, and in the blink of an eye the volume would increase exponentially and the crowd became a mob. And not understanding what they were yelling was very unsettling. Were they thankful, or angry?

The ability to combine our senses to paint a picture is an amazing thing. But when what you are sensing is bad, it can paint a really ugly picture that can have a really lasting effect. Ever y day, visually seeing the sick, the dying, the poor, the disease and illness, the amputated, the gross living conditions, and for some, the dead bodies and body parts. Hearing the people crying for help, hearing their heart wrenching stories, hearing the volume of the mob, the tone getting sharper. Hearing he noise pollution from the planes, the helicopters, and the animals. People kept referring to our situation as a warzone…it truly was. And the smells! As we were walking through the neighborhoods, a local boy told me that there were still bodies in a house. There is a very distinct smell of a rotting body that you can never forget. That smell it burned into my nose. The smell of trash, of sewage. The taste of dust! The taste of water so full of chlorine its like drinking a pool. And the taste of one more effing power bar. Mentally I was drained!

And last but not least, Spiritually. Spiritually I went through a whirlwind. You want to believe that if there is a God, he would never bring such misery and pain to such an amazing group of faithful people. But then knowing it’s the power of love and empathy and caring that nations are pouring into a country IN THE NAME of God, that is saving these people too. Its amazing. Spiritually feeling the warmth and satisfaction when a child looks into your eyes with sheer gratitude and knowing that what I was doing was saving lives. Everyday just our group treated close to 1000 people…IN ONE DAY! Miracles were happening. Even though there was death, there was still life. Births were witnessed, Surgical miracles were perfomred, hope was restored. Even though a lot of what we did was placebo effect….the point was that it HAD effect. And that’s all that mattered. I, WE, GOD, made a difference.

All in all these words may sound pessimistic. They were not meant to be, its only what I experienced. But to the contrary, my OUTLOOK was completely opposite. I would not trade this experience for anything. In the end I was burnt out, tired to the point of exhaustion, physically, mentally, and spiritually, but I know when the dust settles I will be a changed man. I have regained faith in mankind, I have a renewed value for the things I have, the things that I take for granted, like a simple glass of water, a reevaluation of what is really important in my life and a deeper sense of sharing with my loved ones because in a six second disaster, so much can be taken away from you! But most of all, something I learned from my new friend Gloria, is that “There is still love”.

the event

2010-02-04T23:38:00.000-08:00

I was seeing a pair of twin girls in an outside clinic while in Haiti. "My babies," said the woman holding them in her lap. I looked into their eyes, listened to their silent bellies and then she said: "Can you take them?" My translator told me, "She wants you to take them home with you so they have a better life. Their mother died in the event and she has her own children." They were 6 months old.

The people call the earthquake "the event," as if they are too fearful to say the words for fear it might spur them into another reality of a shaking earth. "I have a rash, since the event," or "I've had a headache, since the event. " An 11 year old boy came to the clinic saying that when he sleeps, he is awakened every night by his heart beating quickly and having an intense feeling of needing to run away. PTSD in an 11 year old. Most of them have it, only a few of them share their experiences. Those that do tell me of their losses in their family. I did not speak to a single Haitian about the event that did not tell me they lost a family member. No one is immuned from this particular disease.

A child was sleeping on the street, his face was dusted with the powdery concrete film that is ubiquitous to the town. He was on a sidewalk, asleep and our body recovery team thought he was a corpse because of the white chalky dust that covered his face. No, he lost his parents and family and had no where to go or sleep. This was his existence.

The frustration I experienced in Haiti was that I could never do enough to improve the lives of these people. At first I grew impatient with the amount of medication we had to give: barely a few days worth. Then I was impatient with the fact that I felt they would be better served if I gave them a meal and a bottle of clean water. Then I realized that they didn't need me at all. They were happy, joyful. They sang praise songs and hymns, they gave glory to God that He saved them, or that we were there, or that the sun rose that morning. Then I realized that I should have been impatient with myself instead, that I did not have their faith. In the heat of one rather long clinic day, when I was struggling to find a diagnosis that I was actually able to treat in a patient, she looked at me, saw my frustration and told my translator: "It is enough that you are here. It means that the world has not abandoned us." The city itself may portray a hopeless situation but deep within each person, there is still great hope.

Return from Haiti

2010-02-04T10:41:00.000-08:00

It's been a long haul, days of seeing people no different than ourselves living in such poor conditions, being uncomfortable in the heat and humidity, the lack of regular meals and food, difficult sleeping conditions, exposure to diseases.

What we expected about Haiti in a physical sense was confirmed. The impact of the earthquake is catastrophic. A majority of the buildings were razed to rubble. Peoples homes and all their belongings were destroyed. Their jobs are defunct now, few businesses are functioning. The one grocery store I saw in Port-au-Prince closed at 5 pm each day.

The sewage and disposal system is comprised of a deep stream in the middle of the city where people urinate in, throw their trash into. Pigs roam the canal, rummaging through and eating the garbage. Water comes from time to time and sweeps this refuse into the ocean. They also burn trash in small piles to dispose of their garbage. Deep veins of split concrete run through the streets, reminding people of the great injury to their country. Almost all Haitians in Port-au-Prince are living in street tents, they are dehydrated and malnourished and have yet to experience their most devastating rainy season to come. The rain will soak through their cardboard and cotton sheet roofs and water has the power to fluidly carry their disease to each other in an exponential fashion. Soon, there will be a next wave of devastation to an already crippled country.

What we didn't expect to find was the peacefulness and hospitality of the Haitian people. Everywhere we went, people were happy, content; children played in the street, peeked curiously at us and then ran away. Proud homeowners opened up their homes to us to utilize their bathrooms; Haitians are a gracious, kind people. Their language of Creole is beautiful to hear, the volunteer translators we utilized everyday were intelligent, hard working and compassionate. The people of Haiti enjoy the slowness of life despite their trials. We have much to learn from them. We differ in that we, only by the grace of God, are living in houses with clean running water and eating three meals a day...

far too much time on our hands

2010-01-21T21:55:00.000-08:00

What is this a picture of? Idle time. MS was scheduled for surgery this week, it was canceled, so of course now we have all this time that we meant to fill with sitting on a couch watching Bob the Builder and Planet Earth... instead we went ice skating, finished a zillion sewing projects, did 5 loads of laundry, balanced the checkbook and rescaled the budget for this year, hung out with the grandparents, had a playdate with the cousins, played with the dog, made cupcakes for a baby shower, MS actually got a bath two nights in a row, and of course, we planned a little party. In light of our non-surgery, we decided plan a party to crack open all the cool letters and pictures that friends and family have sent us to cheer MS up and entertain him when he was bed ridden. When the heck do you open things like that when a surgery has been postponed twice? It's practically torture for a kid, so we're just going to have our little party and eat cake. So, I made shark cupcakes.

Way too much time.

We really still are alive over here...

2009-12-18T21:36:00.000-08:00

It's been way too long... here are a few photos from the last two weeks.

Last week's snow storm, today's snowman. Smoking a... really long joint?

Nothing sexier than men working in the kitchen. MS, Joe and Chris making Christmas cookies at Lola's (grandma's) house.

Atta boy

Considering whether or not jumping in is a good idea.

A busy September week

2009-09-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

We had a busy week last week; here's just a glimpse of M's activities:

Apple picking with friends. The next day we went tomato picking. M had more fun rolling around in the dirt, peeing on the plants and looking for bugs.

Do I really have to explain what happened next here? Now I always have a set of clean clothes in M's backpack wherever we go, just so I can continue my day without my 4 year old being wet, or naked.

Hiking in a new trekking class. M loved climbing in and out of a HUGE hollowed out tree trunk, learning the differences between types of trees and of course, jumping into any body of water he could find.

Preschool restarted! Hooray for parent participation preschool, boo for their orientation schedule! I think I was at the preschool more hours than I was at my paying job last week... M is glad to be back at school.

Summer happenings...

2009-08-30T22:03:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to squeak in a blog update for August, seeing that nothing has been posted for a little while. What we've been up to:

Hiking as much as possible and just being outside. Here is MS at a park, about to do a back flip into the water. Just kidding, he did get in the water though, feet first.

MS watching one of 3 service vehicles that came to our National Night Out/Block party. A cool old fire engine, a police car and a shiny new fire engine all came by in a span of 30 minutes.

I asked MS about his shark the other day... he responds "Mom, Gilbert's not a shark. He's an oceanic white tip." Of course he is.

Walking the train tracks with Daddy at Camp Meeting in Soquel this year.

Lazy days of summer. Usually we're together, outside somewhere, or running errands while we're talking about oceanic white tips, hermit crabs, or newts and lizards.

preschool parade

2009-07-02T10:06:00.000-07:00

For preschool the kids made "box cars" where they painted boxes as their cars and drove them in a small parade in the school yard.

MS in his normal attire: rainboots.

Sporting the car. "Mine is a pink racecar. See it has pink on it!" Pink is his favorite color. Still.

The parade

MS and buddy Ewan

Careless Days

2009-06-25T21:49:00.000-07:00

We recently went on a "camping" trip which was really a worship conference that Joe attended where MS and I hung out and played in the water at the beach and at the church where Joe's conference was. We were at this beautiful church where MS found great joy in jumping into this gorgeous baptistry that was screaming for a 4 year old to come and destroy. Careless days that rambled into the next, eating cereal for dinner and not knowing what time of day it was when we woke up from a nap. At 11am.

MS enjoyed getting wet and then sandy then wet again, dumping loads of sand into the choking baptistry. I don't envy the poor person who had to dredge all that sand out of the bottom of that pool.

Father's Day

2009-06-20T21:36:00.000-07:00

It's been quite a while since we posted anything, so here goes... a few photo blogs to catch up!

June 2009

MS making pancakes for breakfast

Breakfast outside

A picture frame MS made as a present for Daddy

Preschool Campout

2009-05-20T01:14:00.000-07:00

MS and Joe camped out last weekend... in the preschool playground.

A sea of tents filled with preschoolers and their Dads

Even the sandbox was transformed into a firepit.

Joe led some campfire songs

Every kid wishes they had a Dad who can play the guitar and sing like this...

Major sand and water play on a hot day.

What's a camping trip without flashlights....

...and glow sticks?

MS chowing down breakfast the next morning.

Joe is still catching up on his sleep from the weekend.

crash!

2009-05-12T14:57:00.001-07:00

I've had my first major car accident. I had one fender bender in graduate school where some lady decided to make a u-turn in the middle of the street and into my car, but this one that I just had... this one was a good one.

So, I'm on the freeway in stop and go traffic in rush hour on the way to work. And 7 cars up some one stops suddenly, two cars peel out to the sides to avoid the stopped car and bam, bam, bam, bam. I'm number 5 and the last car of the round up. I saw the SUV in front of me stop then I stepped on the brakes and for some reason they just locked and I slid and slid and slid and landed cleanly under the back bumper of that SUV in front of me.

I heard someone say "UGHH!" and then realized it was me that made that sound--the one that weightlifters make when they lift some atrociously heavy load... because the airbag pounded me in the center of my chest. Then billows of nasty chemicals filled my car and it was over.

Did you know that CHP has their own tow trucks that come and pull your car off the freeway? Apparently car accidents cause more accidents, so they want you off the freeway as quickly as possible. Not to mention it's not safe to stand by your car on the side of the freeway (I learned that on that day, too). Luckily, no one was hurt, my car was the only car that was towed and all the other cars just drove off after the police came.

I called my husband right after it happened, so he and MS came to where the tow truck pulled my car. Joe told MS: "Mommy had an accident in the car." MS looked at him and said "Well, sometimes these things happen."

We talked MS through the accident, what happened and what would happen to the car from here, saying "Remember when Mr. The King crashed in the last race? And remember when Mater towed Lightning McQueen out of the bushes? Well our blue car is like Mr. The King and a truck like Mater is coming to take the blue car to the car hospital to get fixed."

MS replied, "Maybe we can get you a NEW car instead, maybe we can get you a PINK SPORTSCAR!!!" Yeah, it seems we're all fine with this little incidence--not that we ever want to experience another car crash. We're thankful that it sure is a good time to buy another car.

Mother's Day

2009-05-10T14:55:00.001-07:00

I know everyone thinks their Mom is the most incredible mom ever, but I think I'll take a go at this... I once wrote an essay at UC Davis about just that: how great my mother is. Wildly, the essay won and she became the UC Davis Parent of the Year. You know why? This is a woman who was a widow at 36 yrs of age, had three young kids (9, 10 and 11 yrs old), was an immigrant in a new country without her family around and had until that point lived as a stay at home mom. I think that alone is incredible. She's my role model and one of my best friends, has sound wise advice whenever I need it, has a gift of generosity and is a playful, wonderful entertainer. Not to mention she's beautiful in so many ways; I hope to grow up to be just like her some day...

A Zero Waste 4th Birthday Party

2009-04-30T18:35:00.000-07:00

MS officially turned 4 yrs old last week. To celebrate, we and some preschool friends rode the Caltrain to a local park, searched for bugs, sang crazy bug songs with Dad (aka this generation's Raffi) had a zero waste lunch (which translates to lots of plastic dishes, glasses and utensils for me to wash--but at least there was no trash) then we rode the train home again. All with the underlying vein of green. We accomplished our goal of zero waste and I can officially say that it was worth it.

Green: down to the reusable sewn birthday banner...

...and compostable bug boxes we made for the kids...

... and zero waste cupcakes in ice cream cones.

I know the kids didn't care a bit, maybe thought the cupcake was nifty, parents may have thought we were crazy or idealistic about the environment... but at least our little family can rest in the satisfaction that our celebration was no more of an environmental burden than the sacrifical bugs that died in the hands of many four year olds that day.

Check out this action: the boy is four and has a girl in each hand.

He would agree that it was a good day.

Irresponsible Days

2009-04-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

Irresponsible, careless, ridiculous. These three words seem to be our family's mantra these days--in effort to win back some of our sanity while living in the concrete jungle of the silicon valley. We love nature, being outside on a trail, being far from the center of the city. Our house and life in the city signifies responsibility, carefulness and seriousness... and we've just been choking from that lately. We find small moments of peace hidden in a song or watching the sun set from behind the buildings or after a long exhausting run.

Irresponsible... We took off to go camping during the busiest work week of a pastor's year: Easter. We rambled down 80 and 101, son and dog in the back of our car, and now we find ourselves outside of Bodega Bay, surrounded by nothing familiar. Yet it's the best thing we could have done. In years past we would cram too many tasks into an already packed week, hosting dinners and doing late rehearsals every night. Tonight I made a yummy organic collard greens with rice recipe that I received from our farm manager at our CSA. Amazing. I think it tasted better because we were out of the city, we had some breathing room, it was organic and it was picked less than 2 days ago (ironically, it was grown in the middle of the concrete jungle). Crazy. I feel like we are beginning to see the scales of the hardness of our lives fall off and we are becoming ourselves again.

We aren't seasoned luxury campers by any means. We're used to minimalist backpacking with the sawed off toothbrush and filtering our water from a stream. But now we're camping these days to get out into nature, not bag a summit. So we're sleeping more comfortably, we're eating food that doesn't have to be rehydrated and we're going for location--by a trail or to the ocean--some place to see God's glory. Isn't that the point?

I'm looking forward to some careless and ridiculous days to come.

Seven

2009-02-10T00:00:00.000-08:00

Seven short years ago today, Joe and I made a life changing trip up a little aisle in that quaint Yosemite Valley chapel. We had an amazing experience that weekend--for three days we were surrounded by incredible people who inspired, supported, loved and prayed us into the next phase of our life together as a married couple. I still feel like I'm living in that bubble, in the constant fellowship of amazing people that I'm so lucky to befriend. Specifically I am amazed by the character and earnest heart of this man I still believe I am unworthy of being married to.

Even though we've had difficult challenges in our lives since then--the loss of a child, the death of a parent, an unpredictable diagnosis in our son--we always come out amazed like we did that weekend: stunned at how truly loved we are.

http://web.mac.com/jtstrock/iWeb/Site/Welcome.html

the typical Strock day

2009-02-05T12:15:00.000-08:00

My friend Wendi just posted a typical day for her family on her blog, which I found interesting. Here's our photo blogged day:

Sunrise. I get up and go running. Most of the time I run with friends, today I ran by myself, about 7 miles (or whatever I can get done in about an hour). I use Runkeeper on my iPhone to track my pace, distance and time. MS is usually still asleep when I leave, my husband Joe gets him up somewhere between 7:30-8am. While MS gets himself dressed, Joe makes breakfast. Here's the start of my regular running route, a park behind Goggle.

Back at the house, MS gets ready for music class, which is less than 2 miles away, so MS and I ride the bike/trailer. Joe rides off on his bike to the church for one of a many meetings today.

Music class. MS is more an observer today than a participant. MS has been in this class since he was about 8 months old.

He likes the purple balls apparently and collects them. All of them. He's the biggest and probably oldest kid in the class so the other kids don't mess with him.

Back in the trailer for snack and it's off to the grocery store.

MS wants to see the "animals" and gets a lesson about what meat most people eat. He gets a kick out of the lobster and the fish, frozen in their last stance of life.

After that interesting carnivorous experience we go get our veggie meat, some produce and make our exit.

MS brought his red envelope from Chinese New Year with him and counted 6 dollars in it this year. I'd like to say that he wanted to tithe it all, or buy a present for someone, or invest it in his Coverdell or 529... but he wants a new Thomas train. Good luck, kid. We go to Walmart and even there Thomas is too expensive for a 3 year old with lucky money. After many trips to the scanner to see if he can afford certain toys, he decides on a Megablock tow truck. 5 bucks. What a bargain. The rest of the money he keeps for church this weekend.

Back home, MS plays with the new purchase while I make lunch: left overs from last night and the day before. Quiche, broccoli cheese crepes, clementine oranges, pasta and hard-boiled eggs. Milk and cookies that we made yesterday for dessert. Joe comes home for lunch. After mealtimes we do wash up like my friend Wendi--MS washes his hands and face, we "check" him and he can be excused from the kitchen. Joe and I have our uninterrupted time to catch up before he leaves to go back to the church for the afternoon.

MS cleans up the play area and heads upstairs to his room for quiet time. MS lost his nap over a year ago, but I need this time to function so I sleep for about 2 hours while MS plays quietly. I see in this picture that somewhere along he lost his pants. I hope it wasn't in Walmart.

Snack: we make popcorn the old fashioned way and MS thinks it's hilarious when they pop and sings the Raffi popcorn song.

Now some time in the "learning room" which is basically our spare bedroom converted to an educational area for MS. Today we're sequencing events and doing some rhyming/matching. MS is a whiz and has an incredible vocabulary.

Then it's back to the play area by the kitchen for MS while I make dinner.

Most days we'll go for a hike or a walk before dinner, but Joe is in a late meeting so Hunter is deprived of his longer outside time. He just gets the ball thrown for about 15 minutes and he'll have to wait till tomorrow. MS and I eat together and Joe joins us at the tail end of dinner.

After dinner MS plays while Joe and I talk and then clean up. I tried to think of the last time MS had a shower, he couldn't remember and neither could Joe. We think it may have been a week and a half ago. Seriously. Tonight: shower.

Bedtime story and prayers with Daddy then lights out around 7:30pm.

On nights when I work, I would leave for the hospital at this point. Tonight Joe has a late meeting, so I'm home and it's laundry, bills, balancing the Quicken file and budget then getting our life organized for the week. It's usually about 11 or 12 when I get to bed. If I were at work though, I would finally hit the hay again around 6 or 7am... Welcome to the typical lengthy Strock day.

Tossing kids

2009-01-31T21:59:00.000-08:00

Went to the beach today with family visiting from the East Coast.
Dug a few holes in the sand. Played hackey sack. Lost the beloved hackey sack that's been around since 1997. Found something else to throw back and forth: kids.

It's probably a good time to go home.

coming home to who we are

2009-01-18T12:51:00.000-08:00

We've been outside as much as possible lately, despite the gloomy weather these past few days. We managed to find ourselves lost on a few hikes, one of those being late into the evening, beyond dusk, beyond sunset, with MS in my husband's pack screaming, "I don't want to be eaten by monsters!" while we tromped forward looking for a familiar trail, stumbling in the dark. Humbling. We both have been pretty outdoorsy for our adult lives, yet we've found ourselves lost twice in the last 2-3 weeks. Most days I'd rather be lost outdoors than sitting in a stable, controlled environment indoors.

Hunter has become our gauge of when we are over-suburbanized or our true selves. If Hunter has been out on a dirt path in the last 24-36 hrs, he's happy, content. If he hasn't, he's a putz--sniffy, whining, he sits and stares at you for no reason at all. So, we've been catering to Hunter's needs and indirectly, fulfilling our own desires to be out of this concrete jungle.

Kind of reminds me of who we were before child, before marriage, back when we had established ourselves to be summit baggers and snowboarders, back when, if we had a day off, we would throw a bivy in the back of the Jeep find a path in the redwoods and come home to who we knew ourselves to be.

It's nice to be home again.

Cairns 2009

2009-01-14T10:56:00.001-08:00

Rocks we picked up from the sea

The process... sitting in an outdoor cafe in Pacific Grove, brainstorming

Finished cairn on the windowsill at home

(written in Hebrew)

Traditions of the New Year

2008-12-30T15:53:00.000-08:00

Growing up I remember my family eating grapes at the strike of midnight, one grape for each chime of the clock. Some sort of Spanish tradition which was adopted by Filipinos. And I recall eating noodles for long life. This particular tradition continues today; we eat noodles on New Year's Day (as well as the Lunar New Year, or Chinese New Year) with our son. And we leave them long and don't dare cut them, since the tradition (or supersition?) equates long noodles to longevity.

Now, my family has other traditions. Each year my husband has allowed me time by the sea with some girlfriends to reflect and ponder things that might need tweaking this year. We always go to a Four Sister's Inn somewhere on the coast and have some uninterrupted time to relax, look out at the ocean and prayerfully search for what lies ahead for the upcoming year. Or more correctly, what God intends for us individually for the year. Whether we heed that call or not is entirely up to us.

I like to consider 4 aspects of life each year: emotional, spiritual, intellectual and physical. Then I consider what improvements I can make for each category and from there make a resolution. Last time we did this, we wrote our goals and an accompanying scripture verse on large smooth river rocks and made a cairn. Cairns are trail markers to show you the way so you don't get lost. That trusty 4 rock cairn sat by my bathroom sink where I saw it each day, calling me to heed to my commitments I made to my God and my friends. I'm looking forward to revealing the new cairn of 2009 this weekend.

life with seizures

2008-12-08T09:18:00.000-08:00

Life with seizures means that we no longer skim the surface of life. Instead, it feels as though we’re forcefully dunked in, headfirst. And we never know when that dunk might occur again. We’re thankful when we have a moment to breach the surface and take a breath of air. Today feels like we're waiting for a chance to breathe.

Life has changed. Things that used to impress me about my son were things like: even though he’s three he uses words like “pliable” or “accumulate” correctly in everyday sentences, or that he knows what an ellipse, cylinder or an octagon is. And while these are impressive, and in some ways important things, there are more impressive things to me about him. The things that impress me now are things like the fact that MS met a dear sweet, but brokenhearted friend of mine; one night he started spontaneously praying for her consistently during his bedtime prayers. And all he prays for is her heart. I love that my son reminds me that it is so not about you.

Life with seizures means that oftentimes when I wake up, I come to some sort of consciousness and feel this gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach… as though something is inherently wrong in the world, something died, or that loss occurred somewhere in my life. And then I remember that MS had a seizure recently. It takes me about a week and a half to transition back to normal life from one of his seizures. Except now they are becoming more common--he has another seizure before I can completely get over the last one. I hope I never get used to my son having seizures. I would rather wake up every day with that gnawing, horrible feeling than go back to the way I used to see life.

The stillness of now

2008-12-02T18:30:00.000-08:00

Life has slowed. Every day seems to bring more moments of living in the "now" instead of the next event, the next turn in our lives. Like CS Lewis when he says " I don't want to be somewhere else anymore. I'm not waiting for anything new to happen... not looking around the next corner and over the next hill. I'm here now. That's enough."

We (MS and I) created this incredible tree on our kitchen wall a few days ago, filled with leaves revealing the names of people who care enough about him that they committed themselves to our family--to pray him through the next 6 months of this season of confusion about his health. Indirectly, it's my sort of "control" over the situation, since I can do nothing but remind myself I'm doing the best I can for my son who happens to have a very unpredictable illness. I feel indebted to these people who love us so much that they would support us in that way.

In turn, we look at this tree every day and are praying for these people in their own struggles during our mealtimes, playtimes, work times. We have pictures of them on our tree; MS is connecting prayers to names and faces: the community that surrounds us is astounding to me.

I am learning more and more about transparency. A wonderful, close girlfriend of mine recently urged me into a more transparent life--being real and vulnerable to those surrounding me. Good timing, that one. The health of our child has spun us into a hurricane, yet the swirls that would normally frighten us instead reveal some great friends and relationships in places I never would have expected or hoped to expect. My husband continues to be the base of all my interaction with the outside world: the eye of the storm is in our marriage.

Thanks and Giving

2008-11-27T12:32:00.000-08:00

MS with his cousin Alicia

Saying thanks is easy enough to do. Giving is a bit more difficult. Today I'm saying thanks for my family. I have the most incredible husband in the world: constantly supportive, full of faith, wise, protective, kind, generous, not to mention HOT, and he has an unreal heart. Oh, and did I mention that he's the most talented musician that ever lived? My son, MS, is curious, hilarious, joy-full, very kindhearted like his Dad, sweet, observant, thoughtful, intelligent. MS said today, "Do we call it Thanksgiving because we say thank you and then we give Christmas presents?"

The giving part is difficult depending upon what you're giving. Right now I seem to be challenged with giving up my control... letting go of my imagined control over my son's health. And enjoying the moment that I'm in with him and his Dad.

The Women's Retreat

2008-11-18T21:39:00.000-08:00

Our crazy, incredible, wonderful group

Those of us brave enough to attempt a pyramid

A moment on the porch...

Chocolate Face Masks YUM!

The Ralston White Retreat

My husband and I had an incredible time hosting a women's retreat in Mill Valley this past weekend. The theme was chocolate spa.... how could you go wrong? It was a perfect union of great teaching, heartfelt music led by the greatest worship leader of all time, and wonderful community. Oh, and WOW, the food! Luckily there were lots of opportunities to run, do yoga, run more... therefore we could eat and not be too concerned. Not to mention all these women had been fasting for 10 days, waiting to hear God's voice on this retreat. I think God's voice was loud and clear. I can't begin to explain the peace we experienced--all of us--lots of prayer went into this retreat, and blessing came out exponentially.

Update

2008-11-14T07:38:00.000-08:00

MS had an EEG last week, his pediatric neurologist called us with equivocal results. Apparently, there was one spike in his test that could be interpreted as either (1) nothing or (2) possibly a seizure focus. Of course, the recommendation now is to start MS on anti-seizure medications. We're wading through the options of waiting for a more definitive diagnosis (ie, seizure) vs starting him on the medication. The hesitancy is that these medications can be sedating, may slow his learning and possibly alter his personality while he is on them. The alternative is the chance of having another seizure and risking his safety in an unpredictable 3 yr old environment (like, a tricycle or a climbing gym).

My husband and I are putting on a women's retreat this weekend and are looking forward to focusing on others, being silent, relaxing and considering where to go from here. MS will be with his grandparents. I can't think of a better scenario for the timing of things right now in this raw state of ours.

recent events

2008-11-09T17:33:00.000-08:00

Our champ getting his EEG, about 30 seconds before he fell asleep...

our pumpkins. guess which one was MS's?

In the garden, hiding in a fort of corn stalks.

The smaller event of the week: a hefty lip abrasion and premaxillary fracture of his 2 front teeth. Music class is brutal when you're 3.

Bob the Builder

confusion

2008-11-05T13:38:00.000-08:00

MS had an event last night. We were sitting at dinner, he threw his arms up into the arm and his head back. It was involuntary, it lasted a moment; it was frightening. My heart stopped. Then he went immediately back to normal, eating and playing. The seizures in the past--I had not witnessed any of them, I was only there at the aftermath, when he was coming out of the seizure or perfectly fine when I arrived. And now I hardly know how to think, make any simple decision, what to wear, what to do with the next moment in time. My world has stunted and I don't know how to bear the fact that the reality is, my son has a seizure disorder. I hardly want to play the what if game--it will continue to incapacitate me. Today at preschool I just watched him, the miracle of him that he has not undergone something more tremendous until now. The fact that he now knows how to pedal a tricycle, or create the letters of his name--all extraordinary things. And this seizure thing--it fits no where in my world. I don't know how to cope with it, nor know where to place it in our everyday life. I have lost my ability to reason, because of the overwhelming amount of emotion I feel.

Pumpkin patch

2008-10-24T22:16:00.000-07:00

MS is now counting "sleeps" until Halloween (seven more!) and when he gets to wear his Bob the Builder get up. MS and Daddy picking out pumpkins.

October

2008-10-24T22:06:00.000-07:00

MS and his non-allergenic cat named "Kitty"

Movie night at preschool

Watching Curious George with a lawn full of 3 and 4 year olds.

Happy Birthday

Illnesses, seizures, birthday, movie night, pumpkins, gardening, work, God's voice. These things fill our lives this month. Sometimes it's sublime, the notion of predictability and stability; tumultuous things have happened this month--the key is that God's voice has remained clear.

Fomite

2008-10-16T16:29:00.000-07:00

My friend at work loving calls my son a fomite. Today I am fighting day 9 of the most horrendous cold I've ever had (3 days of fever, then lost my voice for 3 days--about the same time MS fell on his noggin and had seizures--then started making nasty green stuff for the last 3 days). I am making an impressive amount of mucous. Impressive even to the dog I think. And my wonderful husband has been throwing up in the toilet since 3am. Loud screeching vomiting. Two different viruses from our tremendous 3 year old little petri dish. Fomite.

blog tag

2008-10-11T22:05:00.000-07:00

So here's how it works: blog tag (thank you to my wonderful friend Amelia) is when you disclose 5 things about yourself that no one else would know, and then you "tag" 5 others to do the same.

Ugh. OK, so here goes. 5 things that you wouldn't know about me:

(1) I suck at tennis.

(2) I did a little MJ in 7th grade and nothing happened. Three times. Suck at that too, apparently

(3) Owned Arabian horses (about 10) when we were little and rode in a few horse shows as a kid (English)

(4) Didn't expect to get married or have kids when I was in college (my penile embargo, I called it)

(5) Weighed more than my husband when I was pregnant. I'm 5'0" and he's 6'2" That did wonders for my self esteem.

Next? Seeing that I only know 4 other people besides Amelia that have a blog (that I know of) you all get tagged:

three

2008-10-11T16:00:00.000-07:00

Three of us in our family, three in the trinity, three... falls? What?? MS fell, AGAIN. In the midst of the chaos, God is God and what can I do but sit and watch what happens, trusting that there is a reason for all things and I will somehow find the good in all this. But last night sucked, again, for the third time. He had a seizure, was taken again to the hospital by ambulance. When I finally arrived to the Emergency Department, one of the receptionists walked up to me and said, "Oh, and here, we made him a medical card for our hospital, so if he comes in the next time it will be easier to register him." "He's a Kaiser patient," I said (meaning, we normally would go directly to a Kaiser hospital.. but the closest trauma center to our house is not Kaiser). "Yeah, I know, I just thought it would be faster, you know, for next time," she said. I chuckled. My son has a frequent flier card to a major trauma center.

So now we wait. To see if he had a seizure that caused his fall, or a fall that caused his seizure. The chicken or the egg. All I can say is: God is God, and I am not.

Thank goodness for that.

San Jose Half Marathon

2008-10-09T12:59:00.000-07:00

My friend Niti and I ran a half marathon this past weekend. We had been training with a group of girls for the past 2 and a half months every Saturday morning running between 5-13 miles each time. Wow, what a difference there is between a half and a full marathon. This race was leisurely, rambling, and actually FUN! It felt like a walk in the park in comparison to June's race in Alaska.

I think the half marathon level is where I want to stay.

Preschool

2008-09-30T23:26:00.000-07:00

So, MS is a full blown student. Of preschool. We've been staying with him at his school (he goes three days a week) until he adjusts to being there by himself. The last two school days he seems to be just fine. We read "The Kissing Hand" with him before the first days of school, even drew our hands on a foam sheet, cut them out and glued a heart in the middle to remind him that his parents love him when he's away from us. So, when he was leaving for school the other day, I asked him for a kissing hand (he kisses the center of my left palm) he licked my palm instead and said "Licking hand!" laughed and ran off.

Yeah, I think he's just fine.

We made (veggie) pigs in a blanket the other day. Remember those? Life as a kid is SO much more fun.

hilarious

2008-09-03T23:18:00.001-07:00

Filipino fried hair.
The best I've ever looked.

Bee Gee Joe
MS as a stoner. Baby stoner.

You wan summa dis?

Yearbookyourself.com

Made me laugh for an hour!

School starts tomorrow

2008-09-02T11:20:00.000-07:00

This is epic in the Strock household: MS is going to school. OK, so maybe it's really a nursery school that actually calls itself a preschool, but it's time away from the parents on a weekly basis. Three days a week our little man will be growing up away from us, meeting new friends, learning how to pee on an unfamiliar toilet without his parents around to make sure he doesn't urinate on his shirt, trying to find small cats to ask to bring home with him, learning new fabulous habits from other small children. I have weird parental anxieties: maybe the other kids will actually show him how fun it is to pee on more than his shirt. Maybe he'll come home missing a leg or an arm. Maybe he'll learn new bad words like "candy" or "I don't want to." Maybe he'll grow up and move out before he turns 30. Years. Hey wait a minute. In a few short weeks, these posts may be about what I actually get to do when little man is at preschool for 2 hrs, 3 days a week... Maybe I'll come home with the new fabulous habits from whatever the heck I do while he's there. What do moms do when they don't have to take care of their kids??? I'll probably go running...

Who's dinner is this?

2008-08-21T15:15:00.001-07:00

We were making dinner the other day, using all this fresh organic produce we've been assaulted with by the farm, and I looked at our dinner, and then at the pile that was going to go to Paddie and Kemp (see last blog) ...and this is what I saw:

Nice. We could've eaten the "garbage" and probably would have had just as good of a dinner. No wonder our worms are thriving.

OK, so here's a give away about who ate what that night (see what MS is stirring in? We ended up eating the stuff in the pan).

Whenever you want to join us for a healthy meal with vegetables that were picked within the last few days, come on over!

Paddie and Kemp

2008-08-17T19:13:00.000-07:00

Our latest development in going agro eco: vermicomposting. We have a pound of wiggly red worms that live with us for the sole purpose of eating our trash. MS seems to adore them--so much that he's named them Paddie and Kemp (apparently to him there are only two). Appropriately, they are asexual in their name.

Here is MS making their new home by putting shredded grocery bags into a container that we drilled holes into for air.

And adding water.

Now for the yummy food! Banana peels and old kiwi shavings. What more could a worm want to eat?

Viola! Our new friends who will be eating our trash: Paddie and Kemp and about 2000 others.

Full Circle

2008-08-07T12:37:00.000-07:00

We had an incredible time working the soil as a family at a local organic garden in our town. It's amazing. It's located on a high school property, it's completely volunteer run, it grows incredible produce that goes right back into the local community--specifically the schools. Imagine kids in schools getting locally grown, organic vegetables in their meals. Wow.

We do some volunteering hours, MS plays in the compost and is helpful in picking green beans, watering sunflowers, learning about new vegetables. All of us are learning that not every large round orange thing hanging off a green vine is a pumpkin. Oh no, there are many types of squash that our otherwise garden-challenged family would have previously identified as a future jack-o-lantern. We tasted tomatillas, checked out some gender-appropriate scarecrows, and took home bags of organic produce with things in it I would never have ventured out to buy (which was one of the intrigues in this new activity of ours--a challenge to find ways to cook lemon cucumbers, eggplant, etc. in addition to trying to be more green and invest in the community).

We are such a geeky family faking it in the silicon valley. We drive a corolla, leave the concrete jungle as much as possible to get outdoors, we do have wireless in our house but only because it's cheaper than dial-up and yes we have one iPhone in our household (what do you think we used to take these pictures?) We have green beans growing from the vine in a container on our front porch next to the air conditioner and soon to be composter spot, hubby rides a motorcycle or a mountain bike 2 miles to get to work or weave through silicon valley traffic. I contemplated a scooter. The garden makes us feel like we live where we would love to live: out in the boondocks on a farm somewhere. But it also allows us to live where we are yet hate to admit that we really do love this place even more than the boondocks: in beautiful California where the weather is wonderful and the ocean is just over the mountains. And, in this concrete jungle where culture abounds and education is vibrant, there's this really cool organic garden right down the street...

Thomas the Tank Engine

2008-08-05T17:22:00.000-07:00

MS and a few of his best buddies got to meet Thomas the Tank engine. Certainly a pinnacle event in a 3 y/o life. Here is MS and Ela looking off a bridge while on the train.

Our little man, in the ticket cut-out. I noticed that all his friends that day were hopa. How great is that?
Getting a tattoo. He picked Harold the helicopter. Notice the engineer hat and Thomas shirt? Nice. I think he has on Thomas underwear.

The family picture while MS shows his interest in a nearby caboose. Yeah, it was like that ALL day. Thankfully, Thomas the tank engine comes by once a year.

A Male Vacation

2008-07-26T12:52:00.000-07:00

We've been staying at La Selva Beach for the past week and a half, staying at the Monterey Bay Academy, an Adventist high school. Hunter and MS are with us, of course. We mark each day by the tone and denisty of the fog in the sky and the coolness of the air at the beach. Last night we watched the orange sun setting from a bluff by the dorms. It's a beautiful place to be.

MS and Hunter equally love the beach. Hunter loves to chase thrown balls and dig holes. MS loves to chase waves and pee in the ocean. Hmph. I am a woman caught in a man's world, I feel. My family is a family of men. Even our fish was male. Our cars, male by nature for some reason. Our dog, male. Husband, appropriately male; child: again, male. What do men like to do on vacation? Play, dig, pee in the ocean, ride their motorcycles fast. What does a woman do on a male dominated family vacation? Follow them around as they do these things. Until today. Thankfully, my husband took all their maleness and let me have the morning to shower appropriately, shave my legs, put on makeup, and write. Now I finally have the saneness of mind to go play, dig, but I still refuse to pee in the ocean. Maybe I can get them to take me shopping later.

The Plaid wedding

2008-07-14T09:42:00.000-07:00

Bret and Amy

One of my husband's best friends was married this weekend, on a ranch on the central California coast. MS had a wonderful time playing with dirt, defying odds of contacting poison oak as he ran through brush and picked up sticks.

My husband and Bret have been great friends since our wedding, so it was a celebration to finally see him complete with his wife, Amy.

If you know Bret, maybe you've seen him in his plaid suit, preaching and getting pushed off the pulpit for his nontraditional views. They asked everyone to wear plaid to their wedding.

MS and his cohort, a friend of ours named Janice, swindled cake early before the bride and groom even had their cake. Janice, in her spunky southern drawl, told MS to go to the nice ladies and say "Hey pretty lady, can you give me some cake?" But instead Micah just yelled across the patio "HEY LADY, GIMME SOME CAKE!" He got it. And decided to eat it like a dog.

MS and Daddy befriended a cat named Hummer in the garden and then ate carrots from the ground.

filling the void

2008-07-08T20:48:00.001-07:00

I met two men this weekend that really made me stop and wonder what in the world was happening that they would do this to themselves? One man, younger, drank 274mg of caffeine in less than 2 hours. Or course he felt jittery and anxious, felt like he was dying and wanted an antidote. The other man, even younger than the first, started drinking alcohol at 6am on July 4th and drank constantly until 8pm July 5th. And he was vomiting and wanted it to stop.

I had always thought that when I became a Christian that the void inside would be filled and never need to be repaired. But I still have that void, I feel it from day to day, I just haven't found myself at the point where I want to fill it with energy drinks and caffeine pills or alcohol. I'm sure there will be a day where I consider it even stronger than they did last night.

Alaska

2008-06-28T17:29:00.000-07:00

We're back! Alaska was wonderful, beautiful, pristene and cold. Locked in the 70's, Anchorage boasts many Subaru wagons, many bearded men and many trains on it's incredible rail system. Not to mention that everyone eats everything with meat on it, in it, around it. Probably even the drinks have some animal content. Hard place for a vegetarian, but a good place for a marathon. Race day was perfect, a cool 54 and sprinkles of rain from the sky. Yes, it was amazing, yes I'm so glad it's over. The first few miles were perfect, brisk. I found myself frustrated by the rocky trail I was on at mile 8 so I distracted myself by thinking of Joe Sr, the reason for the race in the first place. This led to thinking of each of you who supported us, which led to hours of praying for each of you, then your families, your spouses, your jobs, your health, your kids, your kids' friends, your kids' schools, your financial state, your futures, your businesses, your cars/homes... and then I would start praying all over again. On a single track portion of a trail I encountered a moose. Standing, staring at me. After a few minutes of a stare down and an accumulation of runners next to me, the 8ft giant trotted off to find a willow tree to munch on. A little over 5 hrs after the start I ran up a very daunting hill to the finish line. I think I'll be sticking to half marathons or less from now on...

A polar bear... in a museum

A happy sight--the finish

Shaking my swollen fingers and arms out after 26.2 miles....

Only in Alaska can you get a family picture with a moose.

Off we go!

2008-06-18T10:06:00.000-07:00

Today we leave for Alaska. A little apprehension, lots of excitement, lots of rushing around this morning. Thanks again everyone for all the support! We appreciate the well wishes, the money you gave to support the leukemia society, the prayers for us and the healing it spurred.

MS is looking forward to riding an airplane and a train, my husband is looking forward to a little downtime, and I'm looking forward to being on the other side of the finish line.

More to come....

spendid, majestic

2008-06-09T20:52:00.000-07:00

Life is good. Stable, calm, wonderful...good. We spent the weekend in Tahoe wading in a lake, throwing the ball for the dog in the water, watching MS toss rocks, sticks, dirt--anything--as far as he could into the water. I appreciate the splendidness of nature, the majesty of tall trees and cold mountain air. I appreciate that we can take off at a moment's notice and be surrounded by such incredible company of trees, mountains, even patches of snow this late in June. Perspective. Things are clearer in nature and in solitude.

This last year has had a shift of focus in our family from child to marriage. WOW. Had we known these things before we had MS, life may had been easier. Making marriage a priority over children is a hard but very gratifying paradigm shift in any marriage, and in ours it has made all the difference. MS has better parents because of our focus. I revel in our marriage like I did the trees and nature this weekend. Splendid, majestic.

The marathon is a bit under two weeks away. I am intimidated by it. I ran 20 mile last week and it felt like I was shot in the hip by the end. Then a few days later, 4 miles felt just as bad. Luckily, this last weekend was better, I decided to change back from new shoes to my old worn out ones, and low and behold, all the stars were aligned correctly again and I ran my normal training schedule without the gunshot hole in my hip. Thank goodness. Now if I can just complete that 26.2 mile jaunt without getting hit by bullet in my hip again... But really whatever happens I will continue my claim: life is good.

just like sorting socks...

2008-05-11T07:23:00.000-07:00

Running for me is about as mind consuming as sorting socks. You have to pay attention to some degree, but mostly your mind just turns off and you can float through non-urgent thoughts. You can't do too much else while you're in doing this task, and once you start you invariably have to finish, or it's just... lame: you have a pile of uncommitted socks or you run so far from your car that you have to get home somehow--you have to run back of course. Yesterday I ran 20 miles. TAHWEENTEE. 20 fat (not fast) miles--yes, straight. In about the same amount of time it would take to do 20 loads of laundry. OK so maybe in the same amount of time it would take to wash 20 pairs of socks, individually. But really, I understood yesterday that my mind just needs to turn off and reset itself, even while awake. Running does that for me. I had been distracted by life last week and yesterday's run, albeit crazy long, was my therapy.

So that great catch that Kaiser made about finding MS's skull fracture? Pain in the "it-made-me-run-20-miles" buttocks that turned out to be. Or maybe I was that to Kaiser. The pediatric neurosurgery department asked me to take MS and have a total body xray... to check for any other fracture... to check for child abuse, ultimately. That's about as surprising as someone running 20 miles, 20 times, straight. So, if I previously declined his last CT because of radiation, of course I'm going to decline this unnecessary procedure as well. That didn't make them too happy. So, in a hormonal mama bear moment I said, "Go ahead and call CPS and do an evaluation. I have nothing to hide, I'd rather do that than radiate my child. " This led to me running successive miles and nights of worry wondering whether there may be some person out there working for CPS that may have some erroneous subjective thought about the way I raise my child--and MS could be taken from me. I don't know, crazier things have happened I'm sure. So the gods that be at the pediatric neurosurgery department reconvened to talk about my response and what to do from here. The great news is that: (1) they collectively decided that MS does not have a skull fracture. Hmm. Stanford is now elevated back to it's prestigous place in my mind (see blog entry April 25, 2008). (2) We don't have to proceede with the CPS evaluation since MS does not have a skull fracture.

Phew! It still made me run 20 miles. Straight. I wonder what MS will have to do next to get me to run 26.2 miles in a row...

And the miles roll on...

2008-05-02T16:36:00.000-07:00

Some days it's 10, others it's 16, next week, 20. The other day I commented to my husband that I was going to do a light run, "Just 8 or 10 miles." Who would have thought? I ran through a school today, filled with children. Asian children. I laughed at their spontaneity as they hung like energetic monkeys from a solitary tree in the middle of the courtyard. I realized that MS will not experience this culture like I did. I wonder if later in life he'll travel to another country and look at the people as different than himself, although on the exterior he is exactly the same as them. Brown eyes, dark hair, olive skin made for humid climates. He may never eat strange things like fried shrimp chips that puff up in oil like multicolored styrofoam flowers. He will never have to explain what a "peck peck" is nor open presents from relatives sent overseas: cotton underwear that smells like sandalwood. He will probably never eat a soft steamed porkbun for dim sum on a cold afternoon. Sure I can introduce him to it, but telling and living are different things.

In my journey of running these last few months I met a man and instantly felt sorrow, then anger. This man had multiple myeloma--the same cancer my father in law had: sorrow. But this man was alive and had been for 7 years: ANGER! Why him and not my father in law? Why did he live and so effortlessly? He told of his fight against the disease as if he bragged at how easy it was. He told of his life now. Not much had changed for him, he said. My father in law had myeloma, and he fought hard. During his fight was one of my husband's most poignant and healing memories of his life. Love and forgiveness from father to son. Telling and living... two very different things.

3rd birthday

2008-04-30T12:41:00.000-07:00

Cakebreath. That's the epitome of a great birthday. So we sat in his bedroom eating macaroni & cheese and strawberry applesauce cups on a picnic blanket on MS's floor. Later MS and Daddy will ride the Caltrain to... nowhere, of course, it's the ride that counts. He chose the train ride over Cold Stone. I would have chosen differently.

Life is great at three. You can talk effectively to your parents, state your wishes "This is not my favorite song, Mommy. Baby Beluga is the one I want." Or, in the doctor's office "This is not my doctor, it's YOUR doctor. I can't do this..." he threatens as he runs for the door. Hmmpf. Too many trips to the doctor recently. Luckily, he is doing fine, no more head bonks, just Mommy having eternal nightmares and creating horrid outcomes to normal situations (the slide, a fall, a seizure, etc). Yesterday, I told MS I had a stomachache, he said "Do you want to go to the hopistell (this is how he pronounces hospital) and call the weeow weeow--the ambulance and ride in the weeow weoow?" Weeow Weeow is the sound an ambulance, police car and fire truck makes. It could mean either of these three items unless he specifies. Life is great at three.

Everyone should cheer when you pee in the toilet instead of your pants, when you finish your vegetables, and when you make it to the top of the jungle gym. Everyone should be so content to sit in your bedroom, eat macaroni on your floor, listen to Baby Beluga and have cakebreath. Happy Birthday, son.

He Fell Again

2008-04-25T07:42:00.000-07:00

And we thought the worst of it had past. For some reason, MS is undergoing a physical transformation that makes him more wiggly, more active, more... boy. And so he ran, as normal boys do, into his dark bedroom, tripped and whacked his little head (again) on the night stand. It's all well and good, if he had not whacked his noggin less than 2 weeks previous. It's all well and good, if we had red carpet. Blood. Crying. Hospital again? MS says. Stitches? Hubby says. ANOTHER Cat Scan? I say. We declined this one, as I formulated in my mind how much radiation (4 CT scans in less than 72 hours) my already glowing boy has already experienced in his lifetime.

And that led us into a hours upon hours in hospitals and clinics for the next few days. I would like to acknowledge the rather astute staff at Oakland Kaiser's pediatric neurosurgery department who found not one, not two, but three fractures in MS's skull on the copies of the CT scans we brought over to Kaiser from Stanford. And 2 neurosurgeons and 2 radiologists at Stanford missed this? Kudos to Kaiser.