The Biswolds

It’s hard to believe that I’m turning 39 years old this week. In some ways I feel older and in others it feels as if the last 15 years of my life have flown by in the way you would fast forward a movie. I look back at my it’s almost surreal to think about the path that my life has taken. If you would have told me at 22 years old that at 39 I’d be married to a girl, have 3 boys, live in Los Angeles, and be an HR director responsible for half of the country I would have laughed at you (a few times). I also wouldn’t have imagined my dad would be absent from these milestones.

I can very easily flash back to 11 or 12 years old, laying in my bed at my childhood home on 105 Stewart Drive. If I close my eyes I can still see my bedroom painted blue and imagine my dad braiding my hair over the side of my bed at night. I can still hear my Grandfather’s voice reciting Robert Frost. It’s been 27 years since I last heard him read those poems, but I can still hear his Scottish voice enunciate the lines. He bought me the complete collection of Robert Frost Poems and signed the inside of the book. I still have it and I have been signing my kids books ever since they were born. One of his favorites was The Road Less Traveled. The poem itself has become a total cliché but my preteen self had no idea how much that poem would resonate with me.

It’s possible that others reach forks in the road where they have a multitude of options. But I can’t recall a major life decision point where there were more than two clear paths to choose between. This theme started with college for me…

• Roanoke or Randolph Macon. There was no 3^rd option…just the 2.
• My sophomore year – consider the semester a wash when I was hospitalized and underwent 2 surgeries or buckle down and finish
• My senior year in college…Student teaching and an early childhood education major which would mean dropping my last season of lacrosse or dropping that major to play my last season of lacrosse…
• Pursue my master’s program at University of Maryland or St. Joseph’s University in Philadelphia.
• Continue at St. Joseph’s after my dad died or drop out and start over at a new program closer to home.
• Start my first job at the Attorney General’s office in Baltimore or move to Richmond and work at the White Collar Crime Center.
• Assistant Coach the women’s soccer team at my alma mater and try to juggle 2 jobs or just work one job.  
• Move back to Maryland and start a new career with Target or stay in Richmond at my current job.
• Stay with my fiancé, get married, and start a family or explore my feelings for Liz knowing it might not even work out.
• Come out of the closet or hide it from my family and friends because it would be exposing myself to criticism and force me to face the inevitable questions that followed.
• Take a chance on the house in Baltimore or stay put for fear that I was out of my league trying to buy my first house.
• Put ourselves out there in a documentary supporting gay marriage or keep quiet knowing we wouldn’t be significantly impacted one way or another.
• Buy a new house and move to the suburbs when baby #2 was on the way or stay put in Baltimore.
• Stay put at Target after 9 years or start a new job with CarMax.
• Try for baby #3 or try to get the promotion which would move us across the country to California. This was the only time I recall making the conscious decision to do both and see how things worked out. And then both happened.
• Move across the country from our family and friends to take on the promotion (a few months pregnant) or play it safe by staying in Maryland and staying in my current job.
• Move into Human Resources when I was tapped on the shoulder to do something different or stay in the same field I had worked in for 12 years.

As my own Monday morning quarterback, I reflect every so often on my personal crossroads…I think about what would have happened if I chose differently…walked right instead of left. In some cases, it’s easy to think about how life would be; in other cases, it’s nearly impossible. Many of you wouldn’t even have crossed my path if I had made the alternate choices. You know who you are and I’m grateful for the intersection of our lives.

I’m also keenly aware that I’m a self-deprecating person about 90% of the time who never really gives myself credit for things, just ask my wife. But when I look back on this list I’m mainly proud of myself for having the courage to “do the things”. I’m appreciative to have come from a humble upbringing and to have worked my way up in a company I’m proud to work for. I’m grateful to be in a position to provide for my family in a way I never thought possible. I’m grateful to have loved and lost and loved again. I’m grateful to have very amazing friends who make the journey a little sweeter along the way. I’m grateful to have these 3 beautiful, wonderful kids who I’m scared to death to mess up. I’m honored and humbled to be their mom. I’m grateful I have this amazing wife who supports all my hopes and dreams and holds me accountable to being better than I am today.  

Turning another year older is strange and I’m sure next year’s milestone (the big 4-0) will feel even more overwhelming. But with every year older I turn I feel wiser, more reflective, and more confident about myself. I used to be incredibly self-conscious, I cared so much about what people thought of me. Now I care more about how I treat people and make them feel, about being a good friend, wife, mother, sister, daughter, and boss. I’m not going make history as a famous engineer or inventor or curer of cancer, but I do care about the mark I leave on the world. And for me, right now, that’s about raising good people who will leave their marks even deeper than me.

As this blog is for posterity and I hope that my boys read it and take something from it one day I’ll end with this.

McKay, Gabe, & Christian Bear…

It took me 39 years to learn these things, I hope you get there a little quicker.

Take chances.

Follow your gut.

Don’t let fear or money be your deciding factor in any decision.

Always be good to people along the way.

Don’t worry about what others will think of you. Your true friends will love you for you.

Read to your kids and your grandkids…they will remember it forever.

Don’t believe the people who tell you “It’s all about who you know”. Instead operate with an “it’s all about how you apply yourself” mentality.

Have courage to do the hard thing and most importantly the right thing.

Protect your heart but open it when its right knowing that inevitably it will be broken.

Your heart will mend but it will never forget and that’s ok too.  

Love who you love and don’t care about what other people will think or feel about it because you must be true to yourself.

Go down the road that feels most right for you. Even Frost says he decided to take the road less traveled and it made all the difference. But he admits that the two paths are equally worn. Whatever path you chose will make all the difference, the important thing is that it’s YOUR path.

Most importantly…remember how much your mommy loves you.

I love you all more than the cars on the road, leaves on the trees, fish in the sea, water in the ocean, sand on the beach, & stars in the sky. Don’t ever forget it boys. Thanks to you all, it’s going to be a very Happy 39^th Birthday to me. I’m right where I was meant to be.

When I first created this “blog” (never been a big fan of calling it that) we were on our house hunting trip to California. I knew we were moving and I wanted to create a way for our family and friends to keep in touch with us. I told Liz it was “our” blog and she could post whenever she wanted to write. She’s a talented writer and has a good sense of humor so I was hoping she would take me up on it.

Liz works for the federal government so she was impacted by the shutdown. When we heard the news this past Friday that the government would be open on Monday I was working from home. I peeked my head out the window a few times between my 1 million conference calls and saw her sitting on the patio writing furiously on a legal pad. I jokingly texted her asking if she was writing her letter of resignation. Well, two and a half years later she wrote a post! All the words below are hers.

I haven’t worked in 35 days. I haven’t been paid in 25 days. I’ve walked my kids to and from school 15 times. I went to 4 doctors appointments (I haven’t been to any doctor in 2 1/2 years). I went to 3 happy hours with my wife. I went to the library and got books for all my kids, and then actually read every single book with them.

For an entire week I picked up my seven-year-old from school early with a baseball bat and our gloves and we just headed to the park until we lost daylight. I yelled less, way less. I got down on my hands and knees and looked my baby in the eyes when he was having a meltdown, and we figured it out together, no matter how long it took. Because I finally had the time.

I said yes all the time. Yes I’ll play air hockey with you in our pajamas at 7 am. Yes we can go to the skate park after school. Yes I’ll sit down and draw with you. Yes I’ll go get you a different pair of socks because you randomly hate these ones today. Yes I forgot your water bottle but I’ll drop it back off while I’m walking the dogs. Yes I’ll get up with the kids so you can run your conference call at O’ Dark 30. I said yes because I had the time and I didn’t feel like The Man was holding a gun to my head and whispering in my ear “you’ll never make it on time, hurry! You’ll be late!” 

I have a high stress job, one where if I slack or get careless or simply don’t care people’s lives can be affected. I have to work early hours and I have to show up even when my kids have fevers, when my wife is 3000 miles across the country, or when the pipes are frozen  in our rental property. I always have to be there and I have to be there now. But the thing is, this is our normal. This is always how our life has been. And while I understood that our life was stressful on an intellectual level, I don’t think I really understood what it meant and how it took me out of my life. 

It took a full two weeks for me to relax. I was unable to stop myself from bulldozing situations because I believed they had to be done now or we would never get everything accomplished that needed to be that day. Simple things like tying my kids shoes or getting their breakfast together in the morning,both things that I regularly do, became enjoyable. I stopped frantically shoving their shoes on their feet and reminding them that it should have been done 15 minutes ago. I stopped chanting at them “take a bite, take a bite” “We have 5 minutes. 4 minutes. NOW!”  I just did these things as they were needed and finished them when they were finished.

I stopped setting my alarm clock, but rather was awoken by the bony knees and elbows of my five-year-old as he asked us things like “can all birds fly?” And “do fish have noses?” And instead of screaming at him for interrupting my last 15 minutes of sleep, I would laugh out loud at how the kid’s brain literally never turned off. I would allow myself to wake up my hibernating seven-year-old 15 times over the course of an hour until he finally opened his eyes and asked, ever so hopefully, “is it the weekend?” 

His inability to wake up used to drive me insane. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. I was never going to make it to court by 8 AM if he didn’t wake up, brush his teeth, get dressed, eat breakfast,. Now. Now. Now. 

I used to stand outside our son’s daycare waiting for the clock to strike 7:30 AM so I could thrust him into the (loving) arms of our wonderful daycare providers. These past five weeks I took him when it felt right, sometimes that was 8 AM, sometimes that wasn’t until 10 AM. It did not matter,  I had the time to just idly following behind him while his little mind went from screaming “No” to pointing out the squirrels, to hopping on his scooter. I let him just go until he looked up and said “I go see my friends now.” 

I have to go back to work on Monday, and I am dreading it. Besides the fact that work itself is going to be utter chaos, I am dreading the rush, and imposing the rush back onto my kids. The early drop offs at morning care with their bed heads and half eaten bars, then zigzagging in and out of traffic, begging Waze to tell me I’ll make it downtown by 8 AM, and the constant calendar shuffle my wife and I play. All the while trying to figure out who can manage to extricate themselves from their work responsibilities to pick up our three boys before it’s pitch black out. 

It makes me sad, but I’m also hopeful. Hopeful that I’ll hold onto this feeling of letting things go on their natural course. Knowing that my 7-year old will eventually put on his vans, my five-year-old will stop bouncing off the walls enough to finish cereal, and my baby will eventually agree to sit in his car seat. I am hopeful then I won’t bulldoze through every situation with my kids, and I will sit back and enjoy their quirks, enjoy the process, enjoy those little moments. I used to think the little things were worth sacrificing to accomplish the bigger task of the day but I have been missing the best parts. 

I would be remiss in not mentioning how incredibly fortunate I am to have the luxury of even having this experience. I have a spouse who works and could  pay the bills while our lawmakers waged war on one another and held 800,000 people hostage in the process. I had coworkers driving for Uber because landlords don’t take credit cards. And while I am dreading Monday, I am grateful that I have a job that helps support this beautiful family for whom I need to slow down. 

Love, Liz.

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m sitting in the Target parking lot with two sleeping kids while Liz shops. She’s buying extremely exciting shit like a trash can, microwave, and picture hanging materials for our new house. Yep, we are moving again. 

We have spent the last few days painfully moving everything we own from one house to the next. This is our 4th move in 11 years. We moved to our first home in Baltimore in 2007, 2013 to Arnold, Maryland, 2016 to California, and this transition…still in California and only 3 houses down from our current one. For the 2 moves prior to this one, one of us was pregnant. Although our last move was across the country it was fairly seamless. My company paid for it so everything was packed, boxed, and moved for us. We got onto an airplane and 10 days later had our stuff. 

This one has been a 2 woman operation. We hired a moving company for 3 hours to move all of our really heavy furniture but everything else has been us. It’s always mind boggling to me how people accumulate so much crap stuff. There are some things that mean a great deal to me. My dad’s oak sideboard, a framed map of Baltimore that Liz gave me when we first started dating, a painting my grandfather gifted me of an old Scottish castle, a map of Bald Head Island and the Frying Pan Shoals, my dad’s old racing helmet, and all the pictures of my family hanging on the walls. The rest of it could perish and I would not care. It’s just stuff and I’ve learned to let go in my old age. Ha. 

If nothing else…moving at the end of the year forces you to reflect on life more than you are already inclined to do at the end of a chapter. Tragedy struck families close to ours more times than I’d like to count. This summer my very good work friend and mentor died a few days after beginning treatment for blood cancer, a friend of my brother’s from back in Maryland was senselessly gunned down working on at a model home. He had a wife and two young kids and it seems the motive was to make money off of his laptop and cell phone. A friend of ours here in California lost her brother on December 20th. He was night surfing and they think he had a heart attack. He left behind two young kids and a wife as well. Even though I was not directly impacted by these deaths the pain of losing my own Dad in December just before Christmas is always just below the surface. My heart aches for these families that will never be the same.

And there have been peaks as well…a little boy in our community who was fighting for his life due to an e-coli related virus turned a corner and was released from the hospital. So many people donated blood or platelets in this boy’s honor that I have to believe that many lives were saved from those donations. Our best friend had her second baby, a little boy named Ryder. They are healthy and I can’t wait to meet him. So life is gut wrenching and beautiful all at once.

In 2018 we had our fair share of trials and tribulations…more health scares from Christian and still no solid answers. We had 2 surgeries between 3 kids in less than an 8 week span. Nothing prepares you for watching your child as he is wheeled away to the surgery table. Liz’s dads health took a turn for the worst. He was diagnosed with PSP (a much more rare and degenerative disease than Parkinson’s) and he is now in a nursing home for Veterans in Pennsylvania. My uncle was diagnosed with cancer. 

I have never been one to say good riddance to a year because it would feel strange to wish away the good that came with the bad. Although this year was close…there was still plenty of good. Christian started walking and running in 2018. He is talking up a storm and getting bigger and stronger every day. Gabe started Kindergarten and is literally crushing it. He’s working hard and is immersed in learning. I’ve always said the kid could cure cancer if we could just channel his energy. McKay is reading and loving first grade. We get compliments from teachers, coaches, and neighbors on what a kind, polite boy he is. It’s still one of the things that makes me most proud as a mom.

Liz got picked to be on a specialized unit on her team at work, which should make 2019 a more fulfilling year for her. I made it through my first year in HR and earned A-list or elite status in just about every travel rewards program I’m signed up for. I’m still debating whether that’s an accomplishment or depressing based on the amount I had to be away from my family to earn these rewards. We took two kick ass vacations…one to Mexico just the 5 of us and one to Bald Head with my sisters in law and their girls. I would kill for more time with them because I’m obsessed with the bond of cousins. 

For 2019 my biggest wish is for health…for my family immediate & extended. I want answers or a cure for Christian’s health conundrum. I wish for less travel for me. I want to be more connected to others and less attached to my phone and social media. I wish for more peace in the world and a less divided country. More love, more tolerance…and so much less hate.

Liz and I want to get out for more dates and get in shape again. McKay and Gabe resolved to learn to play the piano this year and watch lots of movies. Christian resolved to play at the park.

Happy New Year from the Biswolds. Thank you for your love and support this year. We felt it from near and far. Peace out 2018, thanks for the memories!

It’s been about a month since Christian’s surgery and we have been thrown a few curveballs recently so I think a quick update is in order. About a week prior to Christian’s surgery we got an email from our landords letting us know that they were selling the house. For those of you who have followed our blog since we moved to California you know the history of this place. We feel blessed, lucky, a bit of both to have found this place and to have lived here for over 2 years. We knew at the time that it just felt right but we didn’t know how much we would grow to love our Culver City community. Now that the boys are both in the elementary school (.25 miles and 7 blocks from our house) we feel even more rooted in this community. If we leave it’s only going to be because we are going back East again.

Our landlords put us on a month to month lease back in June when our lease was set to renew. They cited a refinance as the reason why and said that our payments may go up. Liz and I talked and had already decided that even if rent increased we would stay. Mainly because the thought of moving again is the WORST. Liz wrote them an email stating that we had just registered Gabe for kindergarten and McKay was about to start first grade at the school and that we were nervous about what they were doing with the house. Our landlords responded with a ‘don’t worry, you can stay until the end of the school year with no worry of your payments increasing’.

Then this email, the Thursday prior to Christian’s surgery. I emailed back to basically say that we couldn’t deal with it right now with everything else swirling. I asked when they wanted us to move and if they would ever consider a rent to own situation with us. I knew the rent to own was a pipe dream but I threw it out there. They wanted us out by February or March…holy shitballs. Que frantic internet searches of Hotpads, Zillow, and Westside rentals. We told all our neighbors praying that word of mouth would help in some way. We put in rental applications at multiple places and were turned down immediately because of our dogs. No one wants to rent to people with dogs in LA…we found that out the hard way when we first looked for a home here. We searched for homes to buy and tried to crunch the numbers every way possible. We still don’t have enough money to buy a house here without bankrupting ourselves. Anywhere else in the world except California and NY I could probably get a really nice house…in LA, I can buy a 900 sq foot house in a crap school district and still be paying something like 5-6k a month for it. WTF

Anyway, it turns out that word of mouth does pay off. Our neighbors one house over found out that our neighbors 3 houses down were moving to Boston. She said ‘you should try to buy that house’. I responded with an ugh, can’t afford it, but if they wanted to rent it we’d be all over it. The next time our two neighbors ran into each other she passed the message along that we would be willing to rent. I got  a text on a Friday afternoon that said, “ran into Holly today, if you guys are interested in renting then go see them TONIGHT.’ I paid them a visit that night, we toured the house the next day (Gabe jumped on their bed in the middle of our tour), and the next thing I know Liz is drawing up the lease at work the following Tuesday. Phew! Crisis averted. We still have to move which totally sucks rocks. But, in terms of shaking up the kids world we are in good shape. We are moving a whopping 212 feet from our house into the new one. We will have the same walk to school, the same neighborhood kids to run around and cause trouble with, and the same ‘2^nd Sundays’ where we gather with neighbors to drink wine and let the kids play together.

Right around this same time our current tenant at our 1^st home in Baltimore emailed us that she had been laid off from her job and needed to move asap. She couldn’t pay December rent. Holy shit. I texted Liz at work when I saw it and told her not to check her email. She did not listen to my advice and did it anyway. So much stress all at once! So…if any of you Maryland folks know someone who would like to live in a 120 year old 2 bedroom row home in Fells Point with charm out the ass then please let us know! It’s available immediately.

In other news, we are gearing up for surgery #2 of the year for the Bisland boys…Gabe will have a hernia repaired on December 14. While it’s a much more common surgery than Christian was scheduled for it’s still a surgery which means general anesthesia. And they don’t repair hernia’s laparoscopically so he will have an incision. He has been super brave, making statements like, ‘well Christian had surgery so if he can do it I know I can’. But the night of Liz’s family birthday dinner he punched us in the stomach with his words. He had eaten a big plate of steak and broccoli for dinner. I told him how good that food was for him because of all the protein and veggies in his belly and how it would make him strong for his surgery. We all kept eating and he belted out: ‘well I’ll be dead’. I had to catch my breath. My first gut reaction was to scold him and tell him never to say that again. But I looked at his little face which was trying to gauge my reaction and I knew that I was seeing fear in his eyes. I pulled him out of his chair and into my lap. He curled up easily on me, as he always does, light as a feather. I asked him if that’s what he was scared of and he shook his head yes and buried his face into my chest. I was crying by then and tears were welling up in Liz’s eyes too. I told him our family didn’t work without him. That we need our silly clown that always makes us laugh. That we need his big heart that doesn’t quite fit in his chest, that his big and baby brothers need him.

We tried our best to reassure him with our words…’the doctor is really good at her job and she’s done tons of these surgeries’, ‘we went to see Dr. Heath earlier this week so she could make sure you are strong for the surgery’ ‘we had your heart checked recently so we knew that was in good shape’ and the promise I cringed making ‘Mommy and Mama won’t let anything happen to you’. I know it was a promise that I don’t have the power to uphold but when you are a parent, you do what you need to do. I don’t want him to be scared going into that surgery. It’s been 2 weeks since he made that statement and his words haunt me.

So next Friday Gabe goes in for surgery, a week later we celebrate Christmas, and then we move. It’s going to be a busy and stressful few weeks. But we will all be together, we have a roof over our head, and we are surrounded by an amazing community…and frankly, when you live across the country from most of your family that’s so important. Please keep sending us your positive thoughts, prayers, and vibes. We are hoping for a healthy, surgery free 2019 in the Bisland household.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year…Love you all, the Biswolds.

I was sitting on the runway waiting for my plane to take off and I felt my phone vibrate…the name read ”Dr. Ross”…the number I have been waiting to see since last week when tentative surgery dates for Christian were being tossed around. My heart raced and I hesitated to pick up for a second and then thought, F it, let the flight attendant come yell at me. Yes, let’s do November 1^st, that will work. My brain flashes to Halloween the night before…one last really fun night before he goes in…a good memory for sure as it’s one of the boys favorite holidays and our neighborhood lights up. Ok, yes, that works. I hang up and the phone rings 30 seconds later…Dr. Ross is available that day but I failed to check the operating calendar…Dr. West is not available. Dr. Ross has a 15 min part of the surgery…it is Dr. West’s surgery so that really won’t work.

The scheduler asks me if I would prefer October 25^th or November 8^th? My jaded, screwed up mind has already reconciled that I cannot do a surgery so close to McKay and Liz’s birthday. Christian’s surgery would only be 10 days and 15 days prior to each if we picked November 8^th. What if something goes terribly wrong…and every year for the rest of McKay’s life I am an incredible mess for the days surrounding one of the best days of my life. No, we’ll do October 25^th. These are the crazy thoughts that Liz has to deal with on a regular basis.

So there it is. Christian is having surgery. He will be placed under anesthesia and they will go in laparoscopically to repair the cleft in his esophagus. The surgery is short…as far as surgeries go…60-90 minutes maybe…but it will no doubt feel like an eternity for Liz and me. Christian will be 21 months old so we will probably be the first surgery of the day because they organize the schedule youngest to oldest. We will be in the ICU for monitoring between 2 and 7 days post op.

How am I feeling? I vacillate between fear, nausea, and questioning my decision making most of the time. I feel an incredibly strong connection to each of my kids and I love them with my whole soul. But my connection to this boy is visceral. Maybe it’s because we are so connected that he’s always woken up or cried out when my plane touches down on the ground in LA. Maybe it’s because I know he’s my baby…the last one we will hit milestones with and the last one to leave our house when he’s all grown up. Maybe it’s rooted in the many health scares we’ve had with him, where I’ve held him and thought I was losing him on more than one occasion. Or maybe it’s this bond I have seen form between three brothers that are now my whole world. As every new addition to our family has done, he has changed the dynamic, changed the game, changed the fabric of us all. His brothers hug and kiss and dote upon him and wrestle with him and tease him and laugh at him. But they are in love with this boy and are fiercely protective of him. 21 months ago they didn’t know how much they would love this little person but now they are acutely aware of how much space he has filled up in their hearts. He is our bear bear and I can’t fathom the thought of something going wrong. I will never forgive myself.

So there it is, on October 25^th, early in the morning Christian has surgery. I write this blog mainly for posterity for my kids’ benefit. But I also write it because I need to get my feelings out and it’s the best way I can do it. And it makes me feel good to hear friends or family say that they love to read about our family and they appreciate my honesty. So I have a request for anyone reading this, please keep us in your positive thoughts and send some prayers our way.

Love you all! -The Biswolds

Friday is not a day I typically travel so normally I’m dropping the kids off at school/daycare, packing as many calls in between 8:30-4:30 as possible, then picking everyone up. Today is a very different kind of Friday…I’m sitting here at our resort in Mexico,1 margarita and 1 beer into my day. Christian Bear is napping in his little crib in our room and Liz is hanging out with the older boys. I haven’t rushed to do a single thing today.

No matter how hard I work or how much money I earn I will never be comfortable lavishly spending money. It took Liz many days (many, many days) of convincing to get me to agree to this vacation. She thought it was an amazing deal, I thought it was way too much money to spend. I’d rather be saving money to actually buy a house again. Although it pains me to say it…Liz was right. We work hard and we rush our kids around every morning and every night. We need this time to unwind and be a family again. And if we work hard and never take time to do something like this then what is the point?

Yesterday was our first full day here. We went out to breakfast, drank margaritas, ate ice cream…twice, went out to a nice dinner and then watched the sunset. Just as newsworthy…Liz and I sat up talking and listening to music. We didn’t have to make lunches, fill out a reading list, sign permission slips for field trips we cannot attend, clean the kitchen, make dinners, feed the dogs, etc……That alone has been a small miracle.

We had a crazy stressful January/February/March. We found out at the beginning of March that Christian will likely need surgery (the year of specialists continued…). Our pulmonologist started treating him for asthma and allergies so he’s on a strict daily regimen of inhalers, chest pounding, and allergy meds. In the meantime, she referred us to an ENT doctor and asked us to get a swallow test done. The swallow test involves him swallowing a special drink or pudding they can track from his mouth to his esophogas. The results showed that he is aspirating fluid into his lungs. The ENT doctor believes that he has a cleft esophagus which is very similar to a cleft palate or a cleft lip and likely developed while he was in utero. It is most likely the reason why he has been so susceptible to chest infections and also why he’s had such a hard time recovering from them.

The problem with the ENT doctor’s diagnosis is that she cannot factually tell us until she puts him under anesthesia and runs a tube down his throat to measure the space between his esophagus and his larynx. The grading system is 1-4, 1 representing mild and not necessary for surgery but recommended, 2: medium and surgery highly recommended to correct the issue, 3: would have required a tracheotomy at birth and 4: not able to sustain life. The doctor told me during his consult visit that she would be able to do the surgery while he was under anesthesia. She also told me that the good news was that he is just old enough to be eligible for the surgery as if this was supposed to be fantastic news for me to hear.

After I heard the words, “in my opinion he needs surgery to correct it” she may as well have been Charlie Brown’s teacher. As hard as I focused I could not hear any other words coming from her mouth. I tried hard to focus because I know as a mom who just heard that my kid needs surgery I should have 1 billion questions and also because this attorney I’m married to is going to ask me all of those questions after this appointment. But my brain wasn’t keeping speed with her words and she knew it. She started to say things like: so most parents ask me….X question….and I tell them Y answer. I remember a story she told about an 8-year-old she just did the surgery on successfully and in her words, it was easier because she was older.

My head was spinning…. his tiny esophagus…he has to stay in ICU for 2 days after….waaaa whaaa….complications…..waaa whaaa….closing the space in his throat. I wanted to cry and at the same time research her credentials. I wanted to force her to look into his eyes and know that it wasn’t some run of the mill procedure she does from time to time, but our whole world on the line.  And at the same time I wanted to sprint out of the door and protect him from this crazy lady with a scalpel. Instead I took the card she handed me for her surgery scheduler, asked an insignificant question, and walked out feeling numb.

For 3, almost 4 months now we have been giving Christian “nectar” like substances…he’s better with thicker substances. We found a good solution for milk so we now mix whole milk with a Kefir (thick yogurt) drink and a little bit of protein powder so it’s not so bitter. There isn’t really a solution for water and we have to use a thickening agent called “Thick-It” … super creative I know. It’s basically chemicals and water mixed together and tastes like shit so we poor some juice and mix it with the thickening agent and boom…disgusting gelatinous juice.

We also had multiple visits to an occupational therapist who believes that Christian may have an issue actually feeling the liquid in his mouth and since he can’t feel it well he doesn’t have the muscle coordination to swallow it. She watches his movements while he plays and watches him eat. She gives me mouth exercises to ‘wake up his mouth’ and tells me we need to be brushing his teeth 5-7 times a day. No offense to her, this is her job, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t understand what life is like with 3 kids. Hell, I forget to brush my teeth in the morning sometimes.

Three days after the appointment we were grabbing dinner out for my birthday when my phone rang. It was the surgery scheduler calling to see if she could schedule the surgery for before the doctor’s maternity leave in April or when she comes back later in the summer. I quickly told her the summer would work much better and that I would call back to schedule. Liz talked to our regular pediatrician later that week. She agrees with the ENT that he likely needs the surgery but said we didn’t need to be in a rush to do it. She also believes that his two incidents from 3 months old and 6 months old when he vomited and passed out may have been due to him aspirating into his lungs and his little system not being able to handle it. She was mad with herself that she hadn’t thought of it before. Honestly, we would never blame her for not putting two and two together. We trust her and her giant brain and at the time we felt like she did everything in her power to explore his unexplained episodes.

Between the surgeon’s maternity leave and our pediatrician’s advice we have happily been putting our heads in the sand. We’ve been religious about the medication regiment and his liquids and his chest and lung health has been significantly better (with only one emergency room scare). He’s growing like a weed…unfortunate for us he’s thinning out but he’s getting tall. I’ve requested another swallow test before we just go ahead and agree to surgery. Keep us and the Bear in your thoughts and prayers that we can avoid the surgery.

The above just explains the health of one of our kids in the months leading up to this vacation. We had plenty to work through with the other two boys but that seemed like nothing compared to possible surgery. My new job, which had me on an airplane and away from my family every week but maybe 2 during that 3-month span, was also a full court press. So….when I say we needed this time as a family, words just don’t do it justice.

We loved Mexico and it was very much the reset that we all needed. Puerto Vallarta is beautiful and clean and safe. Just the other night and a good 7 weeks since our vacation, we were laying in bed and Mckay said, “Mommy, I loved that time we spent together in Mexico” And right there our money was well spent.

I wrote most of what is below back in 2014 and 2015 when Gabe was only a year or two old. Long before we moved to California and well before I had a blog, I knew it was important to capture my feelings about my kids. In honor of Gabe’s pre-school graduation today I thought it was only fitting to dust it off and add it to the blog.

October 2014

Gabriel Thomas Bisland, Born on 8-30-13 at Mercy Medical Center in the city. As you know your Mama carried you. That was a little different for me because as you will soon learn, I like to be in control…just ask your Mama. So taking a passenger seat for those 9-10 months and in the delivery room was a good lesson in relinquishing control. Your mama was in labor for 18 hours maybe? She started getting contractions around 5pm on a Thursday night. We took a walk with McKay, got spicy wings from O’Loughlins (in Arnold, Maryland where we lived at the time), and put McKay down to bed. Gi-Gi came over around 10pm and we drove to the hospital in Baltimore. As we were walking into the hospital from the parking garage I snapped her picture. You will see it one day and laugh because of the look she is giving the camera…It was a ”If I wasn’t so pregnant I would come over there and punch my wife in the face” look. Haha. Mercy was great because they would let her get up and move around a little bit which GBMC, where your brother was born, wouldn’t allow us to do.  Mama made it through some tough contractions. She moved around from the chair to the bed, she walked a bit, even got in the shower. Then she started vomiting from the pain…those O’Loughlins wings came up and, in hindsight…that was a bad idea for the pre-labor meal.

When there wasn’t anything else to puke up and she was still dry heaving she decided to do the epidural. It was the middle of the night, maybe 2am. After the epidural kicked in she was finally able to lay down and rest for a bit. I laid on the sofa next to the window and freaked out. I was so worried about the two of you. My best friend Kellie had just died after child birth a year before you were born. I know Kellie was watching over us the day you were born so I just prayed and tried to be calm.

Around 7am, our favorite doctor was about to get off of her shift and came in and told us that she wanted to deliver our baby and that your Mama was going to get ready to push. She was an awesome coach and she had bare feet in the delivery room. We are pretty certain she had a crush on your Mama which I pretended to get all annoyed about, in reality, it made me smile. Lots of people had crushes on her and she picked me J. I helped count while your Mama pushed and towards the end when I saw you coming out I couldn’t get the next number out of my throat. It was around 9am when you came out I couldn’t even announce if you were a boy or girl at first because I was so emotional.

That little change in perspective for me, not being the one to carry you, turned out to be the best thing ever. You mama and I were able to completely understand each other and what the other had gone through. And of course, we had you. You had these amazingly big (huge) eyes when you came out and for the next 9 months after birth. I stood by the doctors as they took your measurements (you were also 7lbs 7oz – same as your big bro) in awe of you and in even more love with your Mama. And all of the sudden we were a family of 4!

Gabe: 1^st word “du-du” for doggie; mama, all done

1^st steps: a few weeks before your 1^st bday (10 or 11 months old)

Gabe, I love the way you first started to ‘dance’. You would nod your head slowly up and down while maintaining eye contact with us. You took music very seriously and it always helped you stay in your highchair longer to eat.

You have always been so sweet with the dogs. You lay on them and hug them. Bondi is your best bud and I love to see you guys together. She and Samos were our first babies before we had you and McKay so it’s a special thing for you to be so close to them.

I also love the way you walk. You put both hands behind your back at your waist line and walk with your chest forward. Its adorable.

You are one of the world’s messiest eaters. To start, you are super independent and need to feed yourself everything. That made the prospect of feeding you mushy baby food very difficult. You wanted to use a fork and spoon from a very early age. Now that you are basically eating everything on your own (13 months old) you like to eat a bite, throw a bite on the floor, put a bite in your hair, and repeat. You are a little bugger J

You always loved to play with hair when you were little. You were pretty bald when you were born but you had 2 moms with long hair so that worked out well for you. You loved to grab our hair when you were drinking your bottle. Once you grew some hair of your own you always rubbed the top of your head where it was the thickest. It was pretty cute.

October 21, 2015

Gabe, you turned two years old this past August. You and your brother are growing up so fast. I look back at pictures of you from last year where you barely had any hair. Now you have this big curly mop on your head. Everywhere we go people comment on how beautiful your curly hair is. Recently your mama has been telling me that we need to ‘trim it’ because its long and out of control. I have strict rules against this. I’m scared that if we cut your hair those glorious curls will go away.

Favorite things to say: ‘my do’ ‘me turn’ and anything you can say to make your mama and me laugh. Mostly comments like, “I drink your water mommy”, “I take your phone”. And then you laugh your naughty laugh. You have definitely moved into the 2 year old phase of independence. You want to do everything yourself and you have started to do what McKay did when he was your age….if we do something you wanted to do, you promptly undo our task so that you can re-do it by yourself. So important for your independence and confidence but so frustrating when we are trying to get somewhere in a reasonable amount of time. You and your brother give your mama and I a run for our money when it comes to patience. We learn just as many lessons a day as you guys do.

You are obsessed with babies and you are also surprisingly gentle with them. You are a gentle soul so we should have guessed that but most 2 year olds are not gentle with anything, much less other humans. You tend to cup your hand and place it under a baby’s chin or on their cheek. This is typically followed by an ‘awww’ on your part.

Your new nickname in our house is little ninja. You are on a very similar sleep regression path as your brother was but true to form, you go about it differently. Where McKay would literally catapult himself across his room from outside of his crib, you very stealthily lift a foot up, prop yourself up, and lower yourself to the floor, then you open your door so quietly not even your mama (lightest sleeper in the universe) can hear it. In the next 15 seconds flat you are next to our bed scaring the shit out of us. Haha…we pull you into bed, you ask for dinner (which is the name of every meal in your book) and then for water. If we don’t get you water you ask for aqua, as if to say, maybe you didn’t understand the request mommies. I’ll be blunt, you are a pretty terrible sleeper. But when most kids wake up in the middle of the night or early in the morning they are ready to be awake or play. You want to snuggle and play with hair (ours or yours). You actually seem content to lay in bed awake. Similar to your brother, I try to tell myself that one day you will sleep again and you won’t want to lay in bed with us, it won’t be cool, or you will be too big to lay with us like you do now…a little ball of snuggle. So when we are up in the middle of the night for your sleep regression I try to tell myself all these things and then I beg you to go back to sleep.

One of my favorite things you do right now is multiple kisses. You will take both your hands and grab our face and then pull it towards you and kiss us, and then repeat rapidly 5-10 times. It so stinking cute. And when you want to do it you say, kiss mommy, and make a kissing motion with your hand and lips and that’s my cue. I hope you stay this sweet, kind, funny, and gentle always little boy. You light up our lives.

June 7, 2018

Gabe, tomorrow you will graduate from pre-school and move on to Kindergarten in the Fall. Although I am far from ready to let go of a boy who has stolen my heart 1,000 times over and woken me up before the sun just as many times, I know you are beyond ready. I can’t wait for your recalling of science experiments, art projects you have poured your heart into, and your extremely detailed reports of animals. You have a voracious and amazing mind and I’ll be right here to watch you soar sweet boy.

As our 2017 was coming to a close Liz and I were talking about our year in review. It was a big year for our family, and as every single year does, it had its fair share of ups and downs. Liz suggested that we start a list of things the boys accomplished as a way to memorialize them. Since this blog has turned into a bit of posterity for the kids anyway I thought I’d include it here.

2017 was an interesting year to say the least. The United States elected a new president, Donald Trump. He wasn’t mommy or mama’s pick and he continues to worry and disappoint us. But we believe that the pendulum will swing, as it always done, and we will elect a much more balanced, stable president in our next election. This was a year chocked full of natural disasters…Hurricane Harvey pummeled Houston, TX and Hurricane Irma crushed Florida and the Virgin Islands/Caribbean. There was a mass shooting in Las Vegas where a gunman took many lives. A slew of women came out to tell their stories of being sexually harassed or assaulted and in a more shocking turn of events, people actually believed them. Australia and Germany became the 25^th and 26^th countries to allow same sex marriage. The world is slowing changing opinions on equal love.

McKay –

You upgraded to Biggest Bro this year and stepped into your role with the ease of a seasoned pro. Mckay, you are sweet, kind, attentive and have a massive heart. You started Kindergarten this year which was a big change. You only knew one or two kids in your class at the beginning of the year but you quickly made a lot of new friends and your teacher Ms. Brown that adores you. Our parent teacher conference was a full report on how popular you are in class, what a great sense of humor you have (clearly you get that from me!), how you love to help the other kids/check their work, and how far your reading and math have progressed in the first few months. A glowing report but we expected as much with our McKay guy. You lost your 1^st tooth and the tooth fairy gave you $6 (inflation is alive and well!), you broke his right arm on your 6^th birthday…not likely to be a day you forget. Probably a blessing in disguise you had to sit out at recess for 4 weeks, instead you spent time with the nurse or in the library reading and now you are hooked. Earlier in the year you learned to ride a skateboard, I’m so proud of you because you were basically self-taught. You started out kneeling on the board and eventually worked up the courage to stand up. You took a week of Skateboard camp during the summer and your comfort level rose dramatically. You also played t-ball and killed it. Seriously you are a natural in baseball and can crush the ball. You also started playing soccer which was a little rougher for you because you were on a team of kids 12-18 months older than you. You naturally hung back on defense and were actually pretty good at shutting the ball down. But you had zero interest in dribbling up the field or playing offense. He absolutely does not get that from me.

Gabe –

You learned to ride a bike, at 3 years old, with no training wheels. Honestly I could probably stop the update here and drop the mic – that’s impressive. It was a proud moment for us and a big deal for our wild man who is still cautious, nervous, and skeptical to try something new or dangerous. You went from being our baby to becoming a big brother and a middle child. It was a big promotion and a lot to take in for our you. Just like Mckay you played t-ball and did well for your age and attention span. We could always get you to hit when you’re your team was at bat but you spent most fielding innings in the stands playing with McKay’s girlfriend. You also played soccer and you are quick and scrappy, I hope you keep playing. You started in your last year of pre-school and moved into the Keshet (big kid) class. Our parent teacher conference for you was also as expected — you are very popular with the kids, even drawing in some kids who tend to stick to themselves (proud mommy moment), eager and excited to learn and able to focus when you are interested or trying to conquer something new; and full of energy that sometimes gets you into trouble. I think your Nona gave us an old report card from your Mama that contains almost the exact same verbiage J. Before I went to the parent teacher conference I was having lunch with you on the front porch. I said, I’m going to talk to your teachers today. About what mommy? Well, about how you are doing with your learning, how you are getting along with other kids, if you are getting ready for Kindergarten, and your behavior…you immediately put your head down and looked at the ground with a sad face. I bit and said…What’s wrong baby? I think you are going to hear about bad behavior mommy…waterworks. If nothing else, self-awareness isn’t a problem for you!  You have gotten so tall this year. All of the sudden every pair of pants in your size became high waters and you earned a new nickname…Gabey long legs. You haven’t gained a pound though so you are just getting taller and leaner. You told us this year that he wants to be a scientist and an astronaut when you grow up. But you only want to fly to the moon if your mommy’s come with you. Stay little Gabey Toot Tot.

Christian –

Ahhh, Christian. Born Christian Drennan Bisland your real name became “The Bear” this year. You were born at the start of our year on January 9^th and this year was laser focused on you. Your arrival marked a big shift in the dynamics of our whole house…1) we are now outnumbered 2) we have 3, yes 3, I repeat 3 BOYS! 3) all of your brothers upgraded their titles, 4) you are the happiest, fattest baby we’ve had 5) you’v had more health issues and scares than the other two combined over the last 6 years — in year one alone. 2017 was the year of your birth but also the year of specialists. You had 2 BRUE’s (Brief Unexplained “Resolved” Episodes), one at 3 months and one at 6 months. In a frenzy to diagnose these episodes we had EKG’s, Echocardiograms, tests for seizures, follow up appointments with neurologists and pediatric cardiologists. Every time I take you to the doctor for a checkup or otherwise I see it listed on your appointment summary as an “other concern”. We had a couple week scare regarding your head shape as well. Craniostytosis— say that 4 times fast. Our pediatrician was worried that your soft spots were fusing too quickly and that your head was coming to a point on top…this is a major cause for concern because if the skull fuses it doesn’t allow the brain to grow and causes developmental issues later in life. As directed we made an appointment with a specialist. We had a full day of appointments reserved…first up was an observation meeting with a team of doctors, then 2 hours later a consult, and then if necessary appointments with speech doctors and surgical doctors in the afternoon. If they diagnosed you with Craniostytosis we were in for a long scary couple of weeks and months ahead. You would have needed surgery on your head where a plastic surgeon would crack open the plates. It’s fucking terrifying to be honest. I didn’t sleep for the 10 days leading up to your appointment. Thankfully our appointment with the doctor lasted 15 minutes. She released us saying she didn’t think you had the condition. I literally sat down in the chair, released the weight off my shoulders, and nearly vomited at the relief of stress. Whew!

The last week in 2017 you were sick as a dog with a fever and a bad virus that impacted your lungs. In the midst of all of this drama we’ve also been dealing with breathing issues all year. They started when you were about 4 months old. Every time you came down with a slight cold, which felt like every other week, your breathing was compromised. However, instead of getting better as you grew it only worsened. So….it felt like the only specialist we did not see in 2017 was a pulmonologist…coming soon in 2018?! More to come on your current health updates…it will need to be an entirely separate post.

We will get through this too but it has felt overwhelming this year…and in the grand scheme of things…you are actually a healthy kid – you are growing like a weed, babbling up a storm, walking, eating everything we can put in front of you. Your favorite foods are avocado, cheese sticks, pears, spaghetti squash, sweet potatoes, blueberries, yogurt, cottage cheese, hummus, and anything that one of us is eating. Your words are Ball (obsessed), Doggie (said Da-dee), Mama, Kai-Kai (said Dai-Dai), Gabe (said Dabe). You have said Mommy once – not that I’m bitter, I only grew you in my belly for over 9 months, breast fed you, sat by your hospital beds, ha…. I know he’ll eventually say it J So, it was a big year but we are counting our blessings and praying and hoping that 2018 will be a year of answers and solutions for a healthy year for our Bear. And we need you well because we all love you so much it hurts kid.

How are Liz and I doing you ask? See above – we have 3 boys. We are busy. In December Liz cycled a year in at her new job. She’s doing extremely well (my words and probably her bosses words, modestly, not hers) She took the career change like a cool cucumber and made it look easy. I changed jobs in December from Loss Prevention to Human Resources. I still cover the same regions (Chicago and the mid-west/Texas/Phoenix/Colorado/Northern and Southern California) except I’ve inherited a new team and I’m in a job I’m not functionally sound or comfortable in yet. That makes for excessive travel to train and meet this new team. I’ll be home 1 week from February to the end of March which puts a huge strain on us…Liz has to work limited hours so she can drop off, go to work in DTLA, and pick up. And I have to do the same all other days that I’m actually home. We have to operate a little bit like single parents because of it. And add in a sick kid or two and our plates are full and our cups runneth over (and not with liquor or beer, which is kind of what we need right now! HA). We have our heads down and have booked a week away in April together. It’s money I didn’t want to spend and then I kept looking at my calendar and saying to myself…I need to reserve this time to actually see my wife and kids. We need to get away from the rat race and rejuvenate ourselves. Also, Liz kept pestering me about it…she’s relentless and also says that we would never have any fun if I was in charge all the time. So Mexico here we come!

Happy late New Years from the Biswolds party of 5! We wish you more ups than downs but plenty of love and support for the inevitable downs. Thanks for reading the blog in 2017 and for all your love and support from across the country…we can feel it.

Maybe it’s because this is our last baby; maybe I’m just getting older & more emotional…if that’s even possible. See I know we are experiencing firsts & lasts all together. I’ve been here two times before.

I’m laying next to Christian on his daybed as he drinks his bottle and I can’t help but drink him in and start thinking that this baby smell will soon disappear with time. These soft hands & feet will become calloused with little boy play & steps in real shoes. These wispy hairs on top of his head will thicken. He will soon stop pulling himself to a standing position & looking into my eyes, asking to come up without uttering a word. More clothes will join the many already boxed up and divided accordingly (0-6 months, 6-12 months, 12-18 months). Another baby will wear the clothes that 3 others have worn before him. 

He will turn a year old in 6 weeks, more teeth will crowd his mouth, he will walk and likely run after his brothers in rapid succession. He will learn to conquer the stairs with ease and I will no longer need to run after him as he gives me his naughty Cheshire grin and clumsily sprints up them. He will develop his own personality, no doubt molded by being the youngest, our baby, the doted upon. Most days he is the center of our attention and we all take turns entertaining him, seeing who can make him laugh the most. 

This progression has happened in my house twice already…My McKay Guy, once our only babe, dubbed our 3rd best friend, and doted upon in his own right, is now constantly bruised and scabbed from riding his skateboard and scooter. He’s solid and muscular. I still pick him up but instead of the little boy I could easily toss into the air I use my knees and brace my back for the sack of potatoes he has become. I want to pick him up and hold him forever but I realize I have a few more years if I’m lucky. On weekends he still comes into our bed in the morning and snuggles with us. He’s starting to read and write and roll his eyes. 

Gabe seems so little to me still but he gets growing pains in his legs daily because of how quickly he’s sprouting up. He’s transitioned from baby face to full blown boy in the last 18 months. As the second baby with an older brother to keep up with he seemed to sprint towards each milestone…walking, potty training, learning his letters, and if he keeps pace, soon full blown reading. He’s still my snuggler, ever since night #1 in the hospital when I pulled him close when he was fussy. We fell asleep together like that, him the size of a football. Now his legs seem to stretch halfway across the bed but he still curls up the same way. He still climbs into my lap at dinner and plays with my hair. I soak it in because I know soon, like McKay, he will sleep for longer and longer in his own bed until he sleeps all the way thru the night in there. 

Will the Bear get through all of his milestones at this fast forward pace too? I can’t help imagine he will. Will the baby itch try to knock again once we no longer have a baby to sniff, bottles to make, and diapers to change? Last night I had a dream we were trying for another so my guess would be yes. 

We were talking to the older boys before bed the other night and Gabe was telling us he would always sleep with us..forever. I told him he could always crawl into our bed at night but that one day he would grow up and probably go to college. This was an extremely foreign concept for him…what is college mommy? 

I tried to explain it was school where you slept over at night. Sheer panic set in with our mamas boy…and 20 questions followed…Why would I have to sleep away from you? Why would I have to stay at school all the time? Why wouldn’t you come pick me up? I don’t want to do that mommy (full tears). Gently backing away from this still 14 years down the road commitment I said to him, some kids don’t sleep at school, they drive home every day after their classes. You could do that and still have dinner with us. Baby boy, you can stay in our house as long as you want. It took a while for him to trust this idea and dry his tears. 

I quickly realized that my most important job was to console him and ease his fears and so I did. But I also know that there will come a time that he will no longer feel that way. When he gets the ultimate itch to leave our house I will tell him this story from when he was our four year old little boy. I will remind him he never wanted to leave his mommies. And he will likely roll his eyes and say, ‘Jeez Mom, do you always have to tell that story?’ Liz will laugh at us and tell Gabe that I’m sensitive and have been worried about this day since night #1 in the hospital. She will hug him and give him $20 for beer. And then I will lean into her as he drives away and cry just as hard as he did that night… and roll my eyes at her for giving him beer money. It’s how this family works.