Friday, June 24, 2011

A Time For Heroes 2011

They surfed. They danced. They ate foot-long chili dogs ... Santa Monica may never be the same ; ) Every year we look forward to the EGPAF's "A Time For Heroes" event and this year was pretty amazing. There was a new buzz in the air ... a lot of talk about ending pediatric HIV/AIDS once and for all. If you're not familiar with them, the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation is an incredible organization whose mission is to prevent pediatric HIV infection and to eradicate pediatric AIDS throughout the world. They plan on doing this through research, advocacy, and prevention and treatment programs.

This year's event, I'm pleased to say, raised an amazing $1.1 million! That should help a lot of mothers and babies win this fight. I know there isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank God that my children and I live in a country where we have access to the medicine that saved our lives.

And would you just look at those smiles? Here's a recap of our day in pictures...Thanks for stopping by.
Mitch catches a wave. If you've never caught a plastic rip-curl, it's a must! Look at my son mastering that board ... why, he's a natural!
Yonas and "Chuck" hanging out ... and yes, they are both really this cute.
Hangin' ten! She makes it look SO easy! : )
That's the ever so talented Joey D. on the drums and his side-kick (aka, my son Yonas) showing us some NEVER before seen dance moves. He popped, he moon-walked, he rocked the dance floor : )

Ending pediatric AIDS is no longer an impossible goal. In fact, we have more hope now than ever before. If you want to learn more please visit .

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Five Pages...

I have much to be grateful for and most days I'm brimming with happiness, but these last couple of hours today, I admit, I'm a complete and utter mess; crying–snot running, the whole nine yards. I wonder if all writers get this engrossed in they're work, or maybe it's that I'm just so close to it. This chapter that I'm re-vising is only five pages, roughly a thousand words, but at times it feels as if my heart is breaking on the page. Writing about those first terrifying moments when I realized that my baby wasn't breathing right, and the hours of chaos that followed will never be easy. There was the emergency room, my baby's lips turning blue ... that receptionist that said we'd have to fill out paperwork–wait our turn like everybody else; the sheer panic of knowing that we couldn't wait. The doctors surprised faces when my husband and I burst through the ER doors with our son in hand, demanding–begging for someone–anyone, to please help us. That frozen moment as they took in the frightening sight of us. Mitchell's baby blanket dropping to the floor. The doctor who sprang into action first, taking Mitchell from our arms, and the frenzy that followed as they worked to save our son. Five pages. One thousand words. I can do this. I can do this, because I know these five pages are important. They are a catalyst toward something bigger and better, and if not for our struggles, my family wouldn't be where we are today. Although there are some heartbreaking moments, this isn't a story about heartbreak, it's a story about family, love, triumph and yes–miracles.