The Biswolds

My last blog post was the impromptu Kindergarten post while a wave of emotions overtook me the night before the big day. It’s been almost 2 months since then. I’m sorry it’s been so long between posts both for me and you. For you, I’m sorry because I promised to keep you in touch with us…Although I’m sure my constant social media posts are keeping you somewhat dialed in. And for me, writing has become a much cheaper therapist. So this post is way overdue and here goes.

I’ve been back from maternity leave for just shy of 7 months now. Christian is 9.5 months old, Gabe turned 4 and McKay started Kindergarten at the end of August. Time certainly is flying by and life feels as if it’s in fast forward. Here’s the quick version of the last few months…vacation, a daycare move and then change for Christian, another scary medical episode for the bear, and a trip back east for the KTS5K.

Before I get into too much detail on anything else…Christian is ok. After this most recent incident we visited a neurologist and cardiologist along with our pediatrician and all were in agreement that there were no serious conditions (seizures, heart condition) that we need to worry about. We are still without solid answers of what was happening, but the best we can tell is that his vasovagal system is causing him to faint. And when babies faint they can’t exactly communicate, “I don’t feel so well mom and I’m going to sit down for a minute….” We are hopeful he will grow out of this but without knowing a true cause combined with how sporadic the episodes have been, I wouldn’t say I’m the most relaxed mom on the block. Our best friend has started to call him the GOAT. Apparently goats, they are big fainters. It’s actually pretty funny and has brought some levity to all the anxiety over his health.

 

Our vacation in North Carolina was great. Everyone met the bear and I think it’s safe to say, fell in love with him. We went to the beach, rode bikes, swam in the pool, ate ice cream, ran on the golf course after hours, saw crocodiles, and swam in the pool at night. Night swimming immediately brings me back to my own childhood when my dad would get home late from work and we would hustle down to the pool for the last few minutes in the water. I can still smell the chlorine, see the foggy pool lights under water, and hear the flutter of bats above us as we dove off the diving board.

My only complaints about our vacation are that I wish it was easier to get there and I wish it didn’t end so soon. We took a 5 hour plane ride, drove for 9 hours the next day, took a 30 min ferry ride, and then rode a tram to our house. It takes a good 48 hours to settle your body down and recover from that kind of travel so the return trip crept up much too soon. I’m so grateful for the memories with family and the beautiful pictures my sister in law always takes. Shameless plug…Follow her on Instagram at @willowandsage. These are her pictures below…

 

Getting back to reality from that trip was tough and to say we are in the thick of it right now is probably an understatement. Starting this summer and moving forward we have had three kids at three separate places every day…for drop off and pick up. Most days this summer it was taking us a good 75-90 minutes to leave the first location and make it to the last location for all 3. Thankfully we just put Christian in a daycare 5 minutes from our house which has significantly cut down our car time and helped our mental health a ton.

Liz and I have become 2 ships that pass in the night, generally anchoring for an hour or two in order to string together dinner for everyone, do dishes, give the kids a bath, and make lunches. And rinse and repeat. Yeah, I feel a bit like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day listening to Sonny and Cher’s “I got you babe” on his alarm clock every morning. Liz and I have great jobs, great kids, and we live in an amazing community so please don’t take my venting as ungratefulness. It’s just that sometimes it feels like we move so fast that we don’t truly get to enjoy it.

In the mornings when I’m solo with the boys my fuse is super short. It’s generally because I could just record myself saying (over and over again) please eat your breakfast, get into the car, put your shoes and socks, please stop riding the dog, and my favorite…please strap into your F-ing carseat! It would be a little hectic getting 3 kids ready regardless but when I’m bumping up against work deadlines and a pile of emails it’s even more stressful. I find myself plagued with guilt once the craziness is over and I have them all dropped off. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at McKay when he wouldn’t get into his seat’ ‘I shouldn’t have hurried Gabe along and told him he couldn’t have another snack as we walked out the door’ When you break this down, they are kids…they don’t understand deadlines, they don’t get the importance of being on time, and really, do they need to be rushed right now? I hate that we (I) do that to them. They will be well prepared for the rat race that life can be…but life, when slowed down and enjoyed, can also be pretty damn amazing. I want them to get the balance of that but the scales have been tipped to the rat race too much recently. Liz and I process it differently too. She tells me, and herself, that we are doing the best we can, that we have happy well-adjusted kids. She probably right but I just think they deserve more from us.

The truth is that we are 2 working parents with full time jobs and 3 kids 5 & under. Let me pause there to let that sink in. It’s hard to devote the necessary time to everyone. I find myself stretched thin. I know I’m not alone and there are a lot of parents of small kids that are struggling to keep it all together. I have talked to other friends, conversed with coworkers, read blogs of other parents, and passed moms and dads in parking lots or at schools who have all gone through it. McKay wants to toss the football or play a game of PIG, Gabe wants to paint or color, and Christian needs to eat or be watched closely. And those are just the things that they want…. what they need is even different…McKay needs help with his letters and help with listening to others. And he craves quality time with us to the point where he will go on any errand, bike ride, or dog walk just so he can join in; Gabe needs someone to help him with his now 4 -year-old feelings and how to articulate himself. He needs to be reassured that as the middle child he is both our baby and our big boy. And Christian just needs a lot because he’s small and needy, always hungry, and already nonstop!

With a baby in the house it’s turns into picking your battles and basing decisions around what absolutely needs to be done. It’s difficult when we are both home, so when it’s just me or just Liz they get even less of what they need. A friend of ours came to visit recently and said, yeah, that’s true you can’t give all of them as much as you want…but that’s why you had more than one kid right? It’s an important lesson for them to learn…that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Touché Christina, touché …

As I’m writing this part of me isn’t quite sure if I will actually post this blog. I actually started it almost 6 weeks ago and have revisited it on 4 different occasions. When I read what I’ve written so far and I sound like a miserable complainer. But the other part of me only knows how to keep it real and overshare. I also know things will eventually get easier and that I need to give myself a break. But for now, this SHIT feels hard. And I think it’s ok to say that to this audience. We (parents, caregivers, and people in general) need to feel free to be vulnerable and share when things seem overwhelming.

Some of you are probably thinking, yep, we see their social media life but reality is a bit different. You are partially right…. I don’t take out my phone during the middle of temper tantrums or meltdowns about a bump in someone’s sock (yes, that happens), or wear a head cam when I’m yelling at the boys to get strapped into their car seats. But at the same time, when Liz and I are together we live the hell out of our weekends. We never sit still, we barely put the TV on, and we are constantly exploring California. We do so much that our kids have a hard time just chilling out in the house…they wonder why we aren’t headed out to the beach or a hike or a t-ball or soccer game. So for now, I’ll just keep daydreaming about quitting my job and being a stay at home mom, and maybe winning the lottery because we live in California! And I’ll look forward to TGIF even more than I used to as a kid. After all, it’s movie and popcorn or game night in our house and damn do I love my boys.

 I remember crying the night before his first birthday. How did his first year fly by so quickly? And here we are, on the eve of Kindergarten and I’m still shaking my head at time. 

Tonight we went on a walk and happened to pass outside of his new school. We have walked this same block many times since we moved here but it took on new meaning on this walk. All these new friends & experiences that await him in classrooms and, strangely foreign to me, open air corridors. We walked as a family & McKay rode his skateboard ahead of us…always wanting to be first…always just a little out of reach.

Truth be told, I know that tomorrow he will puff out his chest and strut confidently into Kindergarten…excitement brewing wearing his slightly nervous grin. Last year we moved him from the east coast across the country and started him in a preschool where he didn’t know a soul. 2 weeks in he was a leader amongst his crew. This summer he made 100 new friends in a camp that was separated by age group. It felt as if he knew every camper & counselor there as evidenced by our daily walks in where he’d say, “good morning George, hi Cash, good morning Brandon”. He went to a week long day camp for Skateboarding where he didn’t know anyone and got mad at us if/when we picked him up “early”. He’s social, extroverted, and makes new friends quickly. He will be just fine!

I know that Liz will be excited and beaming for him tomorrow knowing the best has yet to come…that’s Liz in a nutshell…she always looks at the bright side and doesn’t waste energy on the other stuff. It’s one of the many reasons she’s good for me. I know myself well enough to realize that I will be an actual glass case of emotion. I’m an emotional disaster just writing this. In fact, I just stopped writing to come out of Christian’s room and there he was at the refrigerator pouring himself a glass of water. I rubbed the top of his head & ran my fingers through his new haircut. Back turned I could feel Liz’s gaze on me…she could tell by the way I was touching him I was starting to think about…everything. She gave me the Oh Lord look. I burst into tears. 

It’s all going too fast. It seems like just yesterday McKay was wearing the onesies that Christian is now wearing and learning to walk in our little row home in Baltimore. I love this boy so much and the amazing human he is becoming. I’m proud that he is the the best big brother ever. And I’m proud to watch him dive into new scary things…roller coasters, skateboard camp, & now school head first. 

I read the boys a book tonight and laid with McKay for bed. One day he will not want his mommy or mama to lay with him until he falls asleep. But for now I soak it in. He tells me I’m warm and snuggles in close to me. I ask him if he remembers his teachers name and if he has any questions about school tomorrow…”Ms Brown, questions? No, I don’t have any questions…I’m excited for school mommy. You are warm”. I scratched his back and he fell asleep. Yep, one day he will outgrow all of this but tonight he is still my little boy diving into a new experience tomorrow and snuggling me tight.  

  

Recently I have come across an influx of morons. I was about to use the word stupid people, but I have no idea what their intelligence levels are, and I bet most of these folks are relatively smart. I call them morons because they lack people skills, common sense, and common courtesy for others.

I am back to traveling at a steady clip and I am still nursing Christian. Being away means keeping up the every 3-4 hour pumping regiment. First off, pumping sucks. It hurts, it takes time, you have to lug multiple bags around with you, and you are always searching for a “place to pump”. I can be heard mumbling under my breath “I love my son, I love my son” as I search for these places or cringe in pain. I’ve been known to pump in a car while driving, eating lunch, and possibly taking a conference call. But flying brings a new complication into the mix.  There are a few flights I take, Dallas and Chicago for instance, where the flight is actually longer than the time that I should wait in between sessions. That is just flight time alone and does not include the 30 minutes prior that you need to board, or the 30 to 60 minutes you wait on the tarmac on occasion before you’re allowed to take off. There’s no option to pump on the plane… at least not one that I’m aware of without hogging the bathroom or freaking everyone out around you. That means that once you’ve made it through security and prior to boarding your flight you need to find a family restroom or nursing room where you can take care of business.

That brings me to moron story number one. A few weeks ago I was waiting for my delayed flight to Dallas and I stood in line for the nursing room for 15 minutes. It was being used by another working and traveling mom. As soon as she was exiting the room someone that works for Delta literally pulled a road runner in front of me and was about to shut the door when I said “excuse me but I was waiting for that room”. She promptly told me that it was not a restroom… No shit Sherlock. I told her that I need to use the room and that it was a nursing room. She proceeded to look around me as if looking for a baby and said oh you’re nursing? I said no I’m pumping as she is still guarding the entrance door. She proceeds to ‘let me in’, as if needed permission, and then says I have something personal I need to take care of. Apparently expressing milk from your body does not fall into that category for this lady.

I don’t have time to waste on this woman so I come into this small space with her and begin to get my stuff out. Not only is time critical in an airport but I also have lost all shame. I don’t even care who sees my boobs anymore. If watching someone do this is your idea of a good time I’m happy to give it to you (and also, you have way bigger life problems). Ha. So…are you super curious what this important personal matter was? Delta employee needed to flat iron her hair…I.SHIT.YOU.NOT. 

As if I needed more material this guy sitting across the aisle from me on my flight home from this same trip served it up on a delicious plate…let Moron story #2 commence. This man just finished berating the flight attendant because his FREE inflight entertainment was not working. He asked her to reset the wifi multiple times even though she said she had. Then he demanded her to tell someone else. When she asked who he would like her to tell he said the pilot. THE.FLIPPING.PILOT. I’m sorry sir but I would really like our pilot to worry about flying the damn plane and not about the fact that you cannot watch Jack Reacher. Seriously, what is wrong with people? Why do they feel so entitled? Why do they believe it’s OK to treat others like that?! Or, an even scarier notion, are they too oblivious to even know they are acting like an ass?

I ran across an article the other day that talked about a CEO who conducted all of his interviews at a restaurant. He arrived early and always asked the wait staff to mess up the interviewee’s order on purpose. He wanted to see how they handled the situation. Did they sit there and take it? That might be an indicator that they didn’t have a backbone or couldn’t speak up when it’s needed. Did they treat the staff poorly because of the mess up? Would they then treat coworkers or subordinates poorly? I love love love this strategy as I’ve always thought that the way someone treats a waiter or waitress is a true measure of their character. And I’m super sensitive to it because I come from a long line of restaurant business employees: waiters, waitresses, bartenders, restaurant managers, caterers, etc. I worked as a waitress all through college and grad school and I know that it made an impact on my character. 

Each one of these encounters serves as fuel for me. It drives me to teach my kids what not to do and how to treat others with respect NO matter who they are. But Liz and I know we cannot just preach to them about how they need to act…we need to be living, breathing examples of it. I make it a point to interact with and thank every toll both operator I come across. I wave at the crossing guard we pass every day on the way to Christian’s daycare. I say thank you to the cashier that bags my items and to the waitress who brings our food. We hammer “pleases” and “thank yous” into our boys. Liz has started a little mantra with them each day…”be kind, be courageous, and have fun”. So simple and yet, our world would be a much better place if people actually did just that. 

In regards to the kids…will it all stick? Maybe, maybe not…but so help me, they will treat others with respect. They will work in a service industry at some point in life so they “get it”. And hopefully they will be good examples for their friends and the little humans they might raise one day.

Here’s my attempt at a post that doesn’t make people cry. I have to admit, when I set out to write this blog my goal was twofold: 1) to keep our family and friends in touch with us during our cross country transition and 2) for posterity sake for my kids. I’m a pretty sarcastic person so I thought maybe I could make a few people laugh along the way as well. I realize, after looking back on my posts and reading your comments, that I’ve mainly caused a tissue shortage in your households. So… here goes some randomness and hopefully no tears.

Traffic. Well here’s the thing. LA is one of the most densely populated cities in the US and housing is exorbitantly expensive so there’s a lot of commuting happening. If I’m being honest, the traffic is a hot mess. If I had relocated from, let’s say, South Carolina I would have completely lost my mind. But I’ve wasted hours of my life sitting in Northern Virginia, Washington DC, or the Baltimore beltway traffic. I’m used to it as much as anyone can get used to that shit. We were very strategic with our housing situation. We knew I was opposite traffic patterns heading to work, Liz would likely be working in DTLA which is within 30 mins, and LAX airport is 15 mins away. See, I’m already assimilating…Californians don’t quote distances in miles, they do it in minutes because something could be 10 miles away and take you 2 hours to travel it.

Community. We love this little neighborhood that we ended up in. It is convenient to both of our jobs and the schools. The elementary, middle, & high are all a 9 or 10 out of 10 rating. McKay’s kindergarten next year, a future tissue worthy blog, is a 5 block walk away. The bigger problem is that now we are here we don’t necessarily want to leave Culver City, but almost can’t afford to stay.

We are only renting our house but here’s some perspective…two of our neighbors on the same street as us just put their homes on the market and we couldn’t even think about purchasing them. Our immediate next door neighbors were selling their 3 bedroom 1600 sq foot house for 1.5 million. They purchased it in 2013 for 900k. Most of the residents who bought their homes anytime within the last 5-25 years have shared with me that they couldn’t actually afford to buy their current home.

There are many factors at play here but to be as basic as possible: big companies (think Snapchat, Facebook, Hulu, etc) have based themselves here, bringing more people (with money) to an already populous area, and there are more people (with money) looking for houses than there is real estate to be had. What follows? Bidding above asking price, love letters to owners, and increasing home values that seem to challenge the ceiling with every new for sale sign.

Now with all of that depressing prospective home buyer news you would think we’re actively searching for a place to buy (elsewhere). Except for one little factor…the community we’ve immersed ourselves in is one we are not ready to give up. In Maryland we lived in a 5 bedroom house on a lot of land. Most of our family and friends were anywhere from 15-120 minutes from us. In our old neighborhood I can count on less than one hand the neighbors we interacted with. When I look back on why that was I think it was due to three things: 1) the weather forces you inside for the majority of the winter months 2) the lot sizes spreads people out, and 3) most people are Marylander’s, born and raised.

Now I fast forward to our current situation. The weather is phenomenal about 95% of the time so people spend the majority of their time outside. The houses are close together, like pass the sugar through the window close, without big yards or fences in between. And last but not least…transplants. I have met very very very few people who were actually California born and bred. That mean a lot of folks who don’t have a great deal of family or friends established here when they first move. This place is a melting pot of the east coast and the mid west. I think all those factors drive interaction.

We met the neighbors across the street on Facebook before we even moved from Maryland. Dan regularly sends us info on hikes that he thinks our family would enjoy and we called him to stay with the boys the night Christian was rushed to the hospital. His daughter has babysat the boys and his son has watched our dogs. Our immediate neighbors have asked us to move their cars when they’ve been away for a week to avoid street cleaning tickets and have come home with presents for the boys each time. I’m going to start telling them that they like to drink beer so we get something out of the deal. A few houses down, our neighbor brought us Jordanian food when the baby was born and I had “noshes” and a 2 hour conversation with her on random morning while I was on maternity leave. A retired vet brings our dogs treats in the morning when he walks with some of the neighborhood kids to school. Our other neighbors invited us to their Easter party complete with beer, a bounce house, and an egg hunt. Very California hippy Easter. Others just two houses down have a 3-year-old that the boys love to play with and lead astray with their talk of butts and farts. They invited me and all of our boys over for dinner while Liz was away this past weekend (probably out of sheer pity). And Liz’s college friend Anne is one of the biggest reasons we landed in Culver City. She and her husband had relocated here from NY and raved about the area. Almost a year in and I might know her kids better than some of my friends kids back home. My point is, I know these people, I know their names, their kids or dogs names, and where they grew up, and I interact with them regularly. And in a world that is increasingly tied to their smartphones it’s nice to truly connect with people.

Our other community is Temple Akiba, McKay and Gabe’s pre-school. These two Catholic lesbians are basically born again Jewish these days (not sure how that works exactly but it does). Most Friday’s you can catch me singing to the boys…”Shabbat is here, Shabbat is here, I’m so glad that Shabbat is here”. In Maryland McKay attended a Montessori school that Gabe was already registered to attend this year. Don’t get me wrong, it was a nice school and we would have been happy there, but it was a little formal and cold. They had so many rules that not even I could keep track. And that’s saying a lot because I’m a big, nerdy rule follower. And for any of you who know our Gabe the Babe, there’s a chance he would have been kicked out of that school for being the little clown that he is.

McKay had a few friends there but nothing like Akiba friends. McKay’s class is full of kids who have all been there for 2-3 years together so you would assume he might be more of an outsider. On the contrary, his teachers and the other kids parents can’t get over that he just started this year because he’s meshed so well with the other kids. It seems like he’s always belonged. Every girl in the class wants to be his girlfriend….literally “hide yo daughters.” Haha. Although his heart belongs to Lily. Gabe the babe had never left his comfort zone of Mrs Linda’s daycare so to see him jump into this head first has been amazing. He loves school and we just happened to land in a class with another 2 mommy family. Gabe and their son Issac are besties. I’m constantly talking to the teachers and the other parents in the morning. They are always asking about Christian and a few of them were actually mad at us for not calling them the night he went to the hospital. It’s the closest thing to family we have out here and it’s been pretty great.

The atmosphere is so laid back that if Gabe wants to hang out in McKay’s class for a little while or McKay wants to hang in Gabe’s class the teachers say, ‘sure! We’ll bring him to his class a little later.’ I’m convinced this school has only strengthened McKay and Gabe’s bond. Just this morning at drop off McKay wanted to stay in Gabe’s classroom. When I picked them up one of the teachers said Shemesh (Gabe’s) class had a special guest all day long today! McKay was telling me about it on the way home. Gabe’s teacher asked them in morning meeting who wants McKay to stay with us today in and they all voted yes. McKay said: “and Issac said yes, and Gabey said yes, and I think everyone said yes…And I ate lunch with Gabe.” And then Gabe added, “and then I hurt myself and McKay was there to hug me.” Parenting win, drops mic . More often than not when I pick them up they are playing together (outside) and laughing their heads off. They have so much outdoor time because duh, it’s California, and Akiba values play (as every school should but unfortunately does not).

Speaking of play, the kids are on a t-ball team with a bunch of kids from the school. Liz and our friend Anne help coach, which is another hilarious twist. It cracks me up to watch them line up the batting order with their nerdy Oakland A’s coaches hats on. One Sunday Liz ran out of gas and was stuck in the middle of the road with McKay and Gabe in the car. Another Akiba and T-ball mom Karin saw her in the middle of the road, pulled over, put the boys in her car, and literally saved the day. When we tell people we live in LA they think of this giant smog filled city where everyone is a movie star and no one talks to one another. I hope the gas story pokes some holes in that notion.

So in the end, home prices and traffic suck and there’s not much we can do about it. But the stuff that truly matters: happy kids, sunshine, connections, and new friends that you never envisioned yourself having…that stuff is just too good to put a price tag on.

I’m beginning my 4th week back to work so I thought it would be a good time for an update. To say the first few weeks back were intense would be an understatement. Day #1 back (post Crocodile tears all the way to work) we got a call from the boys school that McKay wasn’t feeling well. I picked him up early and Liz took him to the doctors. Strep throat, ugh. 

Day #3 I’m getting the boys all ready in the morning and I hear faint screams coming from downstairs or outside. I take a quick inventory. Christian is on the changing table…check. McKay is in the room with me…check. Gabe! I sprint downstairs with the baby in my arms and run outside. Gabe has stolen my keys, opened the car door, and slammed his foot inside. He was stuck there screaming “mommy, mommy”. Not having enough hands to free him I put Christian down on the wet grass next to the car and had McKay help hold the door while I slid Gabe’s foot free. My own legs feel like jelly and my heart feels like I just fed my body 20 espresso shots. I dry the baby off, tell Gabe this is why we don’t sneak out of the house and steal mommy’s keys (foreshadowing) and try to calm McKay down. He handles stressful situations about as well as me…pure panic.

Day #4 will go down as the worst day of my parenting life to date. I pray that there are not many (any) more that rival it. I picked all the boys up and brought them home that afternoon. Christian should have been really hungry because he had just woken up prior to my arrival at daycare. I sat on the couch nursing him and he was really sleepy which I found kind of odd since he’d just taken a nap. He was so sleepy that he didn’t give me a hard time when I stopped feeding him to get some dinner ready for the boys. Normally he would have been crying but he just sat there and fussed a little. 

Liz came home late that night so we all ate dinner and went right upstairs to bed. I read to the boys while Liz played with Christian. He was on his mat smiling at her. She took him into the other room and came back and asked if he felt clammy to me. I said I thought he did but wasn’t sure what to make of it. Again, he seemed super tired. Liz went to grab him a bottle and when she tried to feed him he fell asleep hard. Normally this kid can sleep-eat like a champ so that worried me. 

The older boys fell asleep fast so we left their room by 8pm. Liz asked me if he had poop on his outfit and I confirmed. The back poop blowout happens. But as she put him down to change his diaper he began to vomit hard. You get used to baby spit up but this was different. And he was choking so Liz picked him up to keep his airway clear. That’s when he went limp and his eyes started rolling in the back of his head. Liz was calling his name to no response or recognition. Fear and panic swept over me. I frantically asked Liz if we should call an ambulance and she looked at his eyes again and said yes, call call. My hands shook as I picked up my iPhone and struggled to unlock it. Somehow I got downstairs although I don’t remember taking the steps. I was telling the operator what was wrong with him and where we lived. I looked over and Liz was holding him wrapped in his blanket, the one Nona had knitted each of the our kids, and bouncing him nervously. I told her not to bounce him. I took him from her and held him outside on our front lawn. He was totally naked except for his blanket and he was staring up towards the sky but not focusing on anything. He was closing and opening his eyes while I almost chanted his name…’Christian, Christian, Christian’. This was it…every nightmare and daytime wideawake-mare that I’d ever had. I thought he was going to die in my arms while I held him helplessly and prayed Hail Mary’s. 

The ambulance arrived, took his vitals, and transported us to the same hospital where he was born. I was strapped in while I held him in my arms. I knew I was acting like a crazy person because I kept trying to say his name and keep him awake and one of the paramedics finally said, ‘mom, you can let him fall asleep. All his vitals looked good. He’s ok for now.’ We arrived at the hospital and the triage nurse was an absolute moron. She weighed him incorrectly making it look like he’d lost an entire pound since I’d been to the doctor with him last. He started vomiting again and she looked around helplessly for something to wipe his mouth with until the paramedic finally retrieved some gauze for her. I wanted to push her out of the way and find the doctor myself but I restrained myself. 

They got us into an ER room and started to examine him and talk next steps. There were so many questions about his day…did he eat normally, sleep ok, have normal diapers. One week ago to the day I would have been able to tell them every second of his day…from every time he nursed to every smile or cry throughout the day. Tonight, I could only say, ‘I’m not sure’…’I think’…’our daycare provider said…’. I felt helpless, guilty, and incredibly frustrated. Step 1 was to rule out an infection which meant bloodwork via an IV. I cringed at the thought of it but agreed because we needed answers. I could tell the nurse was nervous to try it because of his tiny veins. Turns out those nerves were warranted because she stuck him and it didn’t take. She blew out a vein. They called for the NICU nurse…aka, Cal Ripken in to play with the local high school team. She was a badass. 

Since we were at UCLA where he was born and where our pediatrician operates the ER doctors were in communication with her the whole time. She was ordering tests and checking and adjusting. They initially thought he was dehydrated. They cathadarized him (which was horrifying) and nothing came out. He was literally dry so we think dehydration was part of it. His main bloodwork came back normal. 

They admitted us to the pediatric unit. They thought it could be a heart issue such as an irregular heartbeat or enlarged heart so they had him hooked up to the monitors for our entire stay. His heart rate gets really low when he sleeps hard. Our pediatrician came to visit us and reassure us they were doing everything in their power. I liked our pediatrician in Baltimore but she wasn’t aggressive enough for my liking. Our UCLA pediatrician is super intelligent and was aggressive with all the tests. She had taken time to get to know Christian and she knew this wasn’t him. They did chest X-rays, 2 EKG’s and an echocardiogram.  An EEG on his brain waves to rule out a seizure like episode. 

I thought the IV and the catheter were painful to watch but I wasn’t prepared for the EEG. They had to put 30-40 red marks on his head, then use an exfoliating scrub to erase them, then put some sort of glue or liquid substance on a sensor that they taped to his head 30 times over. Once all that was done through 20 minutes of tears and screams he had to lay still for 30 mins while the test ran. Liz and I stood next to him and talked to him and held his binki in. I felt like the worst parent in the world. Your only real job when they are that little is to keep them fed and keep them safe. What he must think of us for standing by while these people hurt him. The mom guilt was already too much to handle day #4 back to work and all the poking and prodding were extra sucker punches. 

They kept us again Friday night and woke me at 2am to tell me a bacteria had grown from one of the cultures they originally took. He also had a higher than normal potassium rate that night so they did 2 rounds of bloodwork and the EKG. I went into the evening thinking the extra night’s stay was just a safety precaution and a way to monitor him. I wasn’t prepared for all of the extra tests or another full night without sleep. I laid next to him in this tiny crib and dozed off for a whole 20 minutes that night. I just needed to be close to him. The bacteria ended up being a contaminate that is common on the skin. They checked twice because they wanted to make certain before they did a lumbar puncture. Thank God we didn’t have to cross that bridge. The potassium ended up going down as well. Apparently when you get stuck a lot, your cells can burst and cause an a increase in potassium.

Liz brought the boys to visit on Friday night and again on Saturday. They had just fallen asleep the night of his episode, thank goodness. You could tell they were a little nervous about why he was in there and why mommy wasn’t coming home. But it helped to normalize it for them. We told them Christian wasn’t feeling well and the doctors needed to run some tests on him. Both boys have come to hate needles from their vaccines so that was the toughest part for them. I understand that some parents would have kept their other kids away from a hospital because of germs or anxiety over a sick sibling but that just wouldn’t work for us. We have always been the parents that brought their kids everywhere and did everything with them. We have tackled every fun or difficult situation together so this wasn’t any different in our minds. The Biswolds are all in.

At the end of the day they released us because they ruled out everything else it could have been and wrote it off to a bug or virus of some sort that caused him to dehydrate and have a strange reaction. We were so happy that he didn’t have a serious condition but left with an unsettled feeling because we ultimately didn’t have answers. 

We left the hospital that Saturday night very differently than we had left it on Jan 11th. 12 weeks ago we were excited to have a newborn again, to welcome him into our family, and to get to know him. Now he’s our Christian bear, he is part of every day and every routine, he’s part of our heart, and now that we know him we’ll never be the same. It was a perfectly cool Saturday night and as we drove away from Santa Monica the the sun began to set on our 48 hour nightmare.

On Monday my life as I have known it for the last 12 weeks will change drastically. After spending almost every waking moment with Christian I will leave him to the care of another woman that I barely know. I could write a whole separate blog about how abhorrent maternity leave/bonding time is for new moms in our country. For now I will just say…we have a long way to go in that arena & maternity leave in this country SUCKS. 4 weeks ago I would have said he won’t even notice if I leave him. Now his eyes search for my voice and when they find me his eyebrows respond before his huge smile does. When I see the recognition in his eyes I’m a goner. Because we are tied together in this way part of my heart will stay with him when I drop him off on Monday. I will be starting the process of letting go as a mom…and I will come back to that moment many times in his life. I will constantly question my decision to return to work. The mom guilt will cripple me and will cause me to pause many times over in the parking lot of his daycare or the parking lot of my office. I will push on for two reasons…1) these boys need me to pay the bills and provide for their future and 2) the pressure of proving to myself and others that as a woman in the workforce I am capable of “doing it all” will overcome.

I broke down in tears when Liz got home from work on Monday. It was the start of my last week with him and Monday night marked the close of day 1…only 4 more to go. She promptly pointed to our other boys, happily running around the house, and said, “look at them…we left them at the same age…they are great, they are well adjusted.” I know, I snapped back, that’s not it…I’m going to miss him so much (cue more tears).

For the first 5.5 months we lived here prior to Christian I spent more time outside of California than I did in it. Maternity leave has allowed me to finally transition into my life here. I’ve been able to soak up the sunshine and explore my city. It’s also shined a bright light on the hardest part about living here right now…missing our family & friends. My mom was here for the first 10 days of Christian’s life but he’s changed so damn much since then. His Nonna and Pop-Pop in Philly have never met him and want so badly to do just that. My sister in law Meghan might chop off her left arm to hold him and she’s never met him. He’s never met his cousins or everyone’s favorite, Aunt Lisa. And my best friend in the world had her first baby 2 months before me. I miss her so and wish we could have hung out a bit on our maternity leave.

To focus on the positive, I’m grateful for the time I’ve been given with Christian and the boys. I’ve done almost every school drop off for 10 weeks. I have never been rushed to leave school so I’ve chatted with their teachers, watched them sign into class, interact with their friends, & conversed with other parents about how their kid or ours was dinner time conversation. I’ve sat on the couch and nursed Christian with time only for him (and a few Netflix TV shows). Tangent: I highly recommend The Fall, Stranger Things, Narcos, & The Crown.

I have made myself big salads for lunch and sat on the front porch eating and soaking up the California sunshine. I have watched each McKay and Gabe be the Shabbat Yeladim and chaperoned school field trips. I have cooked all kinds of dinners for my family. I spent time with my mom and my brother. I’ve gone on walks with our friend Anne, sat on the beach in Venice, hiked Baldwin Hills stairs with the baby in the carrier, and talked to neighbors. I have gone out to lunch with Liz every other Wednesday on her day off, made at least 25 trips to the grocery store (ridiculous I know), gone on runs, and taken cycling classes. I’ve taken 4 or 5 naps over 12 weeks…that’s more than I’ve taken in the last 5 years!

I have made up silly songs to make the baby smile…and what a sweet smile he has. I’ve watched this amazing bond begin to form between brothers. And I have watched roles change for my big boys…oldest brother & new big brother and seen them transition into them before my eyes. This is not McKay’s first rodeo and he has handled it like a seasoned pro. I have watched Gabe toe the line with his role…so eager to be a good big brother, so in love with Christian, but maybe not quite ready to give up his role as the baby.

  

Sure, I’m a bit sleep deprived but my stress is so low in comparison. For all the chaos our mornings sometimes bring there has been no need to check emails or answer incoming calls. Ok if you ignore 8:30-9am every morning when I can be heard saying: put your shoes and socks on, get your lunchbox, and get in the car…on repeat it’s fairly low. But the change is coming, and like a freight train barreling down the tracks I have to start running or get hit by it.

I’m not at all worried about next week when I start work again. I think getting the kids to two separate places every morning and to work on time will be a breeze. I’m not going to stress out when my bosses emails begin to pour in at 5am because he’s on the East Coast (and has no life). I think my Monday morning 7:15am and 8am conference calls will go off without a hitch while I breastfeed a kid, wipe a toddler ass, and open a granola bar. I don’t anticipate crying crocodile tears in my car after I leave Christian on Monday. And I’m super excited to get on my first flight and spend my first night(s) away from my baby. Bahahaha!

84 days spent with this beautiful boy soaking up vitamin D is not so bad. It’s not nearly enough but It’s more than most people get. I miss our family and I miss our friends but I’m grateful. And just as we always do, Liz & I will make it work because these boys are our #1 priority and we both put the effort in as parents & partners. The next few months may bring a schedule that resembles ancient hieroglyphics, a messy house, and cereal for dinner. But at the end of the day we have 3 beautiful, healthy kids with good hearts who are thriving in this bustling, diverse community that we now call home.

“Then it suddenly occurred to me that, in all the world, there neither was nor would ever be another place like this City of the Angels. Here the American people were erupting, like lava from a volcano; here, indeed, was the place for me – a ringside seat at the circus.” -Cary McWilliams

The last couple of weeks have been crazy and wonderful…so is life.

The pictures don’t lie…that I post every day…sorry, not sorry…the boys love their little brother. Gabe gives the kid zero personal space and always wants to wrap his body around the baby. McKay is like a 3^rd parent. I have found him eating cereal with one hand while holding Christian’s binki in for him with the other. They both come home from school, greet their baby bro, and say, ‘aww, he’s so cute mommy’. Then I yell at them to wash their grubby toddler hands and not to touch him until they do.

We’ve had a couple of interesting moments with the two boys though. One night Gabe was messing around with the fan in our room and Liz was holding the baby. Liz said, “Gabe, why don’t you stop messing with that fan”…Gabe, always quick on his feet like his mama said “Mama, why don’t you put that baby down”. Ahh, there it is…jealousy reared it’s ugly head. He then followed up his comment by saying, let’s put these clothes on the baby’s head or let’s put this pillow on the baby’s head. I say, Gabe, we wouldn’t want to do that. Do you know what would happen to the baby if we did that? G (very casually): Yeah, we wouldn’t have a baby anymore. Ok…Obviously Gabe would never do anything to hurt him but he was clearly feeling left out and in need of attention. He’s actually fiercely protective over his little bro. I called Christian ‘pukey pants’ the other day because he’s been spitting up a lot. Gabe sternly told me to cut it out and that he didn’t want his brother to be called that.

One weekend, maybe 2 weeks after the baby was born we decided it would be a good idea to break down the kids beds in their room and build them bunk beds. This seemed like a good idea at the time, in retrospect, waiting a week or two more might have been a better idea. Liz did most of the work but I helped build the bunk beds. Did I mention it was an IKEA bed set? Now, for anyone who has ever put IKEA furniture together you rightfully consider us to be even crazier to put this bed together on week 2. The boys had been messing with some of the parts and tools and we couldn’t find something we needed. We yelled down to Mckay and said, ‘McKay, do you have the tool?’ M responds: ‘Um, no, but I do have the baby!’ Liz and I sprint downstairs and Mckay is sitting on the couch with Christian. He had pulled him off of his Boppy Pillow and was holding him. He said, Mommy, he was crying so I needed to hold him. Hooooly crap. This morning I was brushing my teeth and the baby started crying. Before I could do anything McKay was at his side, saying, “It’s ok sweetheart, it’s ok” and rocking him in his car seat. He was able to get Christian settled down without me having to move a muscle. #proudpapa Haha

The funniest development we’ve had has come out of our mornings. Typically, the boys wake up between 5:30-6am so we have about 3 hours together before they go to school. My routine is to nurse the baby, drink coffee and eat breakfast, feed the boys breakfast, and pump to save up some milk for when I go back to work. McKay and Gabe are not at all rattled by this pump being attached to my boobs and the process that ensues. What they have done is taken to cheering for one boob or the other. Oh, mommy, which one is going to win today? Recently this has evolved into them picking a boob as their own. Ok, Gabe, you can be the left one and I’ll be the right one. Again, they can use my blog for future therapy sessions. #boys #everythingisacompetition #earlyboobobsession

McKay and Gabe are learning to be a lot more self-sufficient now. They get themselves dressed every morning, some mornings they get their own breakfast or juice, and on good days they help me with the baby or with each other. I found Gabe out back a few days ago using the pooper scooper to pick up a dog poo and McKay strapped Gabe in his carseat yesterday. On bad days they fight with each other, I count how many times I have to say put your shoes on until they actually do it, and then I yell. We aren’t perfect that’s for damn sure. All in all, we are still doing well and adjusting to our new normal with our 3 boys in LALA land!

This is the first post I have written since New Year’s Day so I guess a new one is long overdue. Liz was instructed only to post it if I died during childbirth so I’m happy to say you don’t get to read it. Haha. My morbid outlook is one of Liz’s least favorite things about me but she’s learned that it comes with the territory. I know all too well how fragile life can be. So through tears streaming down my face I wrote about being scared of giving birth again and I wrote about how much this blog would mean to me if I did die because the boys would have a piece of me. I wrote to Liz and the boys and this new little one about how deeply I loved them all. And I wrote funeral instructions to Liz (she has actually requested this before – because I’ve had these conversations with her so many times).

I’m happy to report that I’m sitting here on 1-23-17, on Christian’s 2-week birthday, staring at him in awe. Growing and birthing a baby is an amazing miracle. We could have 100 kids and I would never quite get over it. I went into labor on Sunday afternoon 1-8-17 and Christian Drennan Bisland was born at 2:21am on 1-9-17. Another boy! Our #allboysclub was meant to be. I was only in labor for 11.5 hours with this guy compared to 30+ with McKay. I didn’t use pain meds with McKay and I wanted to give this baby the same experience. Against Liz’s urging to take Fentanyl if I didn’t want to do the epidural and our nurse checking in on whether I wanted it multiple times I held strong (stubborn). No paid meds for this lady. I realize there are no extra points awarded for this feat…but that has never mattered to me. The sense of strength and power I have felt by delivering my kids naturally is all I need. It was so f-ing painful and yet, I’d do it all over again. Women are strong as shit. Don’t forget it McKay, Gabe, and Christian.

There was a moment in the delivery room that could be a future SNL skit. If any of my guy friends are reading this post now you might want to skip to the next paragraph. Anyway, with all of the extra amniotic fluid this kid was floating around in they were worried about what would happen once my water broke (cord prolapse among other things). It did break toward the end of labor right before I started pushing but it wasn’t quite the mini Niagara Falls they were predicting. That’s because right at the end of pushing, as Christian was coming out, amniotic fluid literally sprayed my doctor and one of the nurses. When I say spray…picture what happens when there is water built up on the side of the highway and a car drives through it. Except instead of the opposite side of the highway getting hit with the water, the doctors face, glasses, hair, etc get hit with it. Liz actually said out loud, ‘Oh My God’. Our baby was literally coming out of me and she stopped and uttered that statement. If I had the ability to feign embarrassment at that moment I would have done it. Thankfully our doctor took it all in stride. Christian, you made a big splash into the world.

In my heart I knew that this baby was going to be a boy, that Liz and I, we were meant to have all boys. Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved a girl but once this beautiful boy came out and I held him in my arms there was no turning back. Once you are in love you it’s over. Liz got into the bed with me shortly after he was born and I passed him over to her. As she held him she started to cry and so did I. He was here. We talked about how perfect he was…isn’t that what all new parents do?!

My favorite moment of the day came a little later. Liz left to pick the boys up so they could meet their new little brother. Working on no sleep and crazy hormones someone could have sneezed on me and I would have started crying. But when our big boys, and man did they look big now, walked into the room to meet our little boy emotion hit me like a wave. Liz and I had already decided that 3 was it for us. With that in mind my whole world had just entered the room at UCLA. The boys sat in bed with me and stared in awe at this new little boy of ours and I looked over at Liz, tears welling up in my eyes, and barely choked out the words. “Thank you for giving me all of this…” I’ve never felt more grateful in my life.

The transition with the boys has been unexpected but pretty remarkable. I anticipated some jealousy, mainly from Gabe, that we were spending too much time with the baby. They love this new little addition and have been insanely cute about him. They are in his personal space at all times…kissing him, touching his face, holding his feet. Gabe calls him ‘my baby’ and McKay calls him ‘little dude’. They like to hold him and talk about how cute and little he is. They discuss his noises and how much he likes milky. Although they throw stuff and punch each other and are all boy in so many ways, they are very gentle and sweet with their little brother. When McKay and Gabe go into nurturing mode with Christian it makes me feel like we’ve raising them right.

Christian is 2 weeks old now and Liz went back to work this week. Although I’m not sleeping much I’m starting to come out of the fog (and pain) of childbirth. Organizing 3 kids and getting them out of the house every morning is a bit chaotic. I have no doubt that there will be many moments over the next year or so where we ask ourselves what hell we were thinking having 3 kids. But I also know there will be many happy life moments that greatly outweigh the hard moments. These 3 beautiful boys are more than I could have asked for. We are blessed and life is good!

Ps. How cool is it that Christian can say he was born in Santa Monica, CA?! Our little California Boy!

Today is New Year’s Eve Eve. Our last few weeks have been a total whirlwind. We flew back into LAX from the east coast on a Sunday night at 9pm…the day before Liz’s first day of work in downtown LA. For those that have been following along, Liz quit her job in Maryland in June for us to move here. She interviewed and found out she’d gotten the job within a month of us being here. Let’s just say the next 5 months have been filled with red tape. Six months on one income in California makes us extremely excited that she’s finally getting started.

Monday was a blast (insert sarcasm) …Liz left at 6:45am to catch the train. I had a 7:15 and 8am conference call that I hid in the guest room to take while PBS cartoons babysat the boys. I walked the boys to school since I had turned my car in 2 weeks earlier when I started traveling. So I stashed the stroller in the courtyard and took an Uber to work. Having been away for a week I had about 700-800 emails to work through…. it’s the kind of ‘clean up’ work that makes me want to punch myself (or the email senders) in the face. My boss had sent 65 of those emails. Yes, I took the time to count.

The rest of the week was filled with doctors’ appointments and every single kid drop off and pick up. I shouldn’t complain…Liz has done it 85% of the time on her own since school started in September. Shockingly I didn’t have to show ID when I dropped them off. Tuesday’s doctor’s appointment led to a full day of appointments on Thursday because the baby was measuring big and there was extra amniotic fluid. The doctor basically diagnosed late term gestational diabetes but ordered the 4-hour glucose test and an appointment with the nutritionist to be safe. Friday was the last day of school for the kids so they had their holiday Hannakah celebration. I took my first of 6 calls for the day in the parking lot at their school, popped in for their celebration, drove to the office for all of my other calls, and then drove like a maniac to get back for pickup. It’s days like this when I do know if I should consider myself super mom or half-assed employee/mom. On my way the doctor called…gestational diabetes test negative. Back to the drawing board.

That first weekend back we got our Christmas Tree in the 60 degree California weather. A little different than what we are used to but the boys were so excited for Christmas it didn’t matter. Liz drank warm apple cider and whiskey (jealous), we listened to Christmas music, Gabe put 15 ornaments on one branch, and the kids were inspired to get naked and decorate. It was a great day.

The kids winter break is two weeks long so the week before and the week after Christmas school has been closed. Not exactly feasible for Liz to take weeks #2 and 3 off to watch the boys so we have been supplementing new babysitters and our good friend Anne for a few days each week while I make frantic attempts at catch up and pretend to be deserving of my paycheck.

One of the toughest things right now is how physically limited I am and how active the boys are. Week one I took them to the aquarium and my baby doctor visit. Let’s just say 5 hours at the aquarium with them was more bearable than the 10 minutes the doctor was in the office with us. The boys asked the doctor for rubber gloves to play with, McKay snatches one of Gabe’s gloves, Gabe screams and cries at the top of his lungs, I lay on the table with sonogram gel on my belly and shoot them the best ‘Mommy is PISSED’ look I can…which they are apparently impervious to. Friday December 23^rd will not go down as my best day as a mom. I’m upset about their behavior at the doctor, hormonal, impatient. Santa threats of ‘you will get nothing’ fly out of my mouth at record numbers.

Christmas Eve was a good one. It’s strange to be spending it with only the four of us…typically Christmas Eve has been with my family and I have hosted the last 3+ years. I have always tried my best to recreate the Italian Christmas Eve that my grandfather’s heritage brought us. It has evolved though the years but began as the 7 fishes. This year I let McKay make the marinara sauce and the meatballs. We kept it pretty simple since it was just the 4 of us. After dinner the boys opened a Christmas present from Liz and me…superhero PJ’s and we baked homemade cookies for Santa. Just before the kids went to bed Liz pulls out a giant red velvet cupcake with bright red icing on it for the kids to split. She knows I hate anything with red dye in it and I remember her exact words while they were eating it “I love to mess with you about this stuff”.

We spent the rest of the night playing Santa and wrapping all of the presents. The anticipation of their excitement brings back all the joy I remember about Christmas when I was little. Exhausted we headed off to bed knowing we’d be up early.

The next morning sometime just after 5am McKay woke up. He was ready to see his presents but I made him promise we wouldn’t go downstairs until the sun was awake. He told me his belly hurt, an assumed ploy to go check out his gifts. He went into his room only to return a few minutes later visibly upset…” Mommy, I threw up on lamby”. I hurry into his room to find bright red #40 throw up all over the grey carpet in his room. Now, my gag reflux isn’t strong to begin with, but cleaning up red chunks of throw up at 9 months pregnant wasn’t a pretty sight. Liz and Gabe woke up as McKay was starting round 2 throw up…on my feet. Merry Christmas! After 5 throw ups he was good for the day. The boys loved all of their presents and were so excited to put them all to use. We made the most out of technology by talking with my in-laws, nieces, sister in laws and my mom via Facetime.

This week has been marked by the ‘oh shit we have a baby coming any day now’ vibe. We put together a new dresser/changing table, retrieved boxes of baby ‘stuff’ from the attic, put the rock and play (where our kids sleep for 3 months) together, and did plenty of newborn/blanket/bib laundry. This baby doesn’t have a nursery or his/her own room because selfishly we want to keep a guest room/office. We will see how all of this plays out over the next year or so.

These couple of weeks’ home with the kids have been exhausting and rewarding all at once. You don’t realize how much you miss out on until you get this kind of QT with your kids. There are plenty of completely frustrating moments surrounded by special moments you would never get without the time. I would have missed car conversations about cranes and the Goodyear blimp, questions about how trees stand up, why ice floats in water, and how buildings stay up straight, and serious conversations about God, death, and black jaguars (not necessarily in that order). The boys blew bubbles in their underwear on the beach, we baked cookies and made dinners together, we grocery shopped, tried out a new restaurant for lunch, went to doctors’ appointments, got our hair cut, played soccer and follow the leader at the park, and watched Christmas movies while we snuggled on the couch (pre-pregnancy Angela doesn’t sit down much—ever).

As my due date draws near, I’m acutely aware of the dynamic that is about to change for the 4 of us. The sudden shift from man to man to zone defense, the diapers that haven’t been in our house for a year, the infant naps that lock you in the house vs. the active toddlers that need to get out and run, and a totally new Biswold personality that will make us a party of 5. McKay has been saying it’s a girl my whole pregnancy and is still holding strong. Gabe says he’s getting a brother. We’ll see…14 days to go!

Thank you for all of your love and support during our big changes in 2016. We wish all of you a happy and healthy 2017! Love, Angela, Liz, McKay, Gabe, and Baby #3…