Update on Alyssa

For those that aren't aware, Alyssa has spent the last three days in the hospital. She went to the doctor last Thursday after having three straight days of diarrhea. The doc recommended we change her formula and supplement her regular feedings with Pedialite to maintain hydration.

Alyssa is no stranger to new formulas. Since literally the moment she was born she has had a problem with spitting up. She visited the doctor in February for that issue. He sent her for an ultrasound to rule out any defects related to her esophageal valve and prescribed a low dose of Reglan to help her stomach empty out faster. The problem persisted, however, and Alyssa continued to eat, burp, relax, then suddenly--sometimes up to an hour later--spit up. The fact this was occurring "at rest" troubled her doctor. We cycled through half a dozen different types of formula. Enfamil AR, which is fortified with rice, seemed to help a little, so we settled on that and discontinued the Reglan, which seemed to make things worse.

We were prepared to accept that Alyssa is just a fussy baby and hoped she would eventually grow out of her reflux condition when, ten days ago, she developed diarrhea. After her first visit to the doc for the new symptom, nothing changed. Jen took her back to the doc Monday for a follow up. She had lost three ounces and was beginning to show signs of mild dehydration. Her doc ordered blood tests and a stool sample and sent her home. Tuesday morning, he called and said he would like to admit her overnight to run some tests. Jen packed a bag, dropped off Kaitlyn with the neighbor and took Alyssa to the hospital. They did another ultrasound and an upper GI to rule out any abnormalities or blockages. Both tests came back negative.

Wednesday was a waste, due to mis-communication and, in my opinion, poor practice of medicine. When I say "poor practice" I do not mean "malpractice", because I do believe that Alyssa has and continues to receive the best quality of care in the world. What happened Wednesday was the poor execution of an ultra-conservative strategy of medical practice that ultimately will increase the cost of this hospital visit. The on-call doctor, a young, tall, skinny man with an Eastern European accent, initially decided to bring in a GI specialist to consult on Alyssa's case. However, Wednesday morning, after a single dose of an acid reflux drug that typically takes three days to kick in, Alyssa was on a marathon stretch of hours without spitting up.

Dr. Ukraine canceled the consult.

By mid-afternoon when he revisited Alyssa and realized the lack of symptoms was most likely a coincidence, it was too late to get back on the GI doc's calendar. Doctor Ukraine was paged to another hospital and we didn't see him the rest of the day. That left us with the nursing staff. The day nurse said the GI doc was definitely going to come see us in the morning. The night nurse said the doctor was still on the fence and had not yet reordered the consult. Meanwhile, we're racking up reward points with the Baptist Health System. I hope this isn't the future of health care.

Thursday we got back on track. Dr. Ukraine was off and a new, more seasoned doctor was on duty. He witnessed Jen with Alyssa for five minutes and agreed the child clearly had acid reflux. He ordered a reflux test and suggested that it may also be necessary to do a pH test, requiring a probe inserted through Alyssa's nose down her throat and into her stomach for 24 hours. A few hours after the reflux test was completed, the GI specialist paid us a visit. The reflux test confirmed that Alyssa's stomach is slow to empty and she is experiencing reflux (duh). Thankfully, she is not a fan of the pH test for infants. Her belief is that none of the medications tried so far have been of the correct dose or been given sufficient time to work. She also believes the diarrhea may in fact be a symptom of the reflux and not a viral infection since Alyssa's blood tests came back normal. She laid out a detailed plan of treatment involving pharmaceuticals as well as changes to Alyssa's eating and sleeping habits. Hopefully this course of treatment will prove successful after a few days and no further action will be required.

In the meantime, Jen and Alyssa are spending their third night in the hospital. Alyssa's dehydration has already improved and she no longer has an IV. If she shows signs of weight stabilization tomorrow our hope is that she will be discharged home in time to color Easter eggs Friday night. We'll follow-up on an outpatient basis with the GI doc next week...who doesn't take our Cadillac insurance plan by the way, so phone lines are open and operators are standing by to accept your donations. I will be returning to "work" tomorrow, although I suspect most of my day will revolve around making sure this little pleasure cruise--which will undoubtedly run in the four or maybe even five digit range--is 100% covered sans a modest deductible.

For the latest updates on Alyssa's condition, follow me on Twitter (SLOengineer) or check my Facebook. Thank you to all who have sent your prayers, words of encouragement, and offers for help. It means a lot and we truly appreciate it. I am sorry that I haven't been able to accept all your phone calls or respond to every comment/email. I've been busy trying to get in touch with Dr. Gregory House. If you have his number, can you text it to me?

Things K Does #9

Dear Haters, How About A Drinking Game?

Dear Haters,

I've held off on the updates lately because I desperately did not want to give you the fodder you so love. But alas, I cannot hold back any longer. Without further ado, here's the status of life in the Genovese household with two under two.

Nobody in my house sleeps. Not even the dog. We made the decision a couple weeks ago to take away Kaitlyn's goo (i.e., pacifier, binky, dummy tit). The Internet gods warned us of "3-5 nights" of screaming fits. They were dead wrong. On a good night we keep it down to about five minutes. This is week three. On top of that, the precious toddler has definitely begun her terrible two's, which is most apparent at bedtime--with or without a goo. The routine usually goes something like this:

1. Child makes the rounds through the house, kissing everyone from Mommy to the doggy good night.
2. Walk upstairs to child's room. Daddy (or mommy) coaxes her into bed while she asks to be held. "No, I can't hold you, but put your head down and...
3. we'll read 'Moon'". "Okay" she says forlornly.


4. Read "Good Night, Moon". Point to the red balloon, the phone, the comb like daddy's, and the mouse. Giggle at the old woman whispering "hush".
5. Child asks to read Barney. Parent says no.
6. Child asks for milk. Parent allows "just a sip", striking a bargain with her as long as she stays in her bed.
7. By the time parent returns upstairs with milk, child is out of bed. Repeat step two.
8. I'll let you drink some milk. Child pretends to sip on milk cup. Parent takes milk away, kisses child good night. Child whimpers and asks for "box".
9. Parent winds up Beauty and the Beast music box. Child exclaims "I DO IT!". Parent lets child flip music box "on".

10. Parent makes deal with child to stay in bed. Reminds child that she has her pillow, kitty, big bear, other bear, and blankie. Parent tucks child in firmly, kissing her on the head.
11. Child begins to cry, pleading for a hug. Parent's heart melts, gives child hug.
12. Child won't let go, asks to "hold" while fighting back tears. Repeat step two.
13. You'll get a mint in the morning, but you have to stay in bed. Child whimpers "OK".
14. Parent moves toward door. Child asks for "Moon". Parent thinks this sounds familiar, continues out door, latching it closed on the way out.
15. Child wails, gets out of bed, lays on floor behind door and continues screaming until she falls asleep.

With child #1 in bed, it's time for the rest of the household to turn in for the night. Baby Kaitlyn slept through the night as soon as she came home from the hospital. Baby Alyssa parties all night long. Her routine goes like this:

1. Child cries. Parent changes diaper, swaddles child, makes bottle, feeds child.
2. Parent burps child.
3. Child appears to be asleep. Parent puts child in bassinet.
4. Child spits up...everywhere. Burp cloth is on rocking chair.
5. Parent curses.
6. Parent changes child's clothes, re-swaddles, sits in chair to lull child back to sleep
7. Repeat step 3.
8. Parent crawls into bed slowly, stops. Child still asleep.
9. Parent pulls up covers, stops. Child still asleep.
10. Parent lays head on pillow, closes eyes.
11. Repeat step 5, then go to step 1 and proceed.

I suppose if we live streamed this choreography on the Internet it could make for a fun drinking game. Every time you hear a child cry, drink. Every time a parent curses, make someone else drink. Poopy diaper? Take a shot. Whoever is not drunk by the end of the game gets to babysit tomorrow.

Now, where did I set my drink...

Speed Bump Number Two

Alyssa Anne Genovese arrived December 27th, 2009 at 12:42PM after seventeen glorious hours of labor. She was born 7 pounds and 19 inches long.

Congratulations to the delivery date pool winner, Jessica :)

From Alyssa

Baby G #2 Delivery Date Pool

Want in on the action? Click the Buy Now button below to buy your date. Include the date you want with your PayPal transaction and be sure the date isn't already taken (check the calendar above)!

• The current pool amount will be displayed on the web site in the top right corner.
• Baby G #2's arrival will be announced on twitter.
• The person closest to the delivery date will win the pool (or share it evenly if the delivery date is unclaimed and falls between two claimed days).
• You may buy as many dates as you want until Baby G#2 arrives.

The Things Kaitlyn Does: #8

She Googles.

The Things Kaitlyn Does: #7

The Things Kaitlyn Does: #6

Things K Does: #5

About a month ago I noticed three of my toilets at home were slowly leaking into the bowl. I replaced the ballcock gaskets and that solved the problem. The next day, my wife noticed a puddle in the master bathroom where I made one of the repairs. It turned out the connection to the tank was not as tight as it should have been and when I made the repair, the connection jostled even looser allowing water to slowly drip out.

This morning, as I reported on Twitter, I woke up to a phone call from my wife that it was raining in the kitchen. It turned out the same loose tank connection allowed water to leak from one of the upstairs bathrooms. The water seeped behind the baseboard, through the wall, and onto the ceiling drywall in the kitchen.

All of this was discovered by The Fuzzy Headed Oracle who, upon waking up and beginning her morning routine of walking through the house, entered the kitchen, noticed the wet floor, and finally got to use her new favorite word in the proper context:

"Uh-Oh"

Wait...What?

I'd like to tell you the story of the fourth of May. To fully appreciate the story, you'll need to recall that my wife revels in obsessive compulsive behavior. She cannot knowingly allow herself to be surprised and she cannot for the life of her keep a secret.

The condition is hereditary.

I tried to surprise her once when we were dating with an unannounced weekend visit. I coordinated the surprise with her sisters, who in turn told their dad, who in turn blabbed about the whole thing to Jen. My only redemption was that she didn't believe him, it was too fantastic of a tale!

So in my house, no big news goes unannounced, not for a second. The fourth of May, aside from being the day before my mom's birthday, is the day that changed.

About an hour before I left work I got a call from Jen, as I often do when it gets close to quitting time. She was calling to see when I would be leaving and to tell me she and K were going to take a nap. That was my signal not to call them on my way home. I arrived home to find everyone in bed. The fourth of May was a Monday, and as you know they often become Martini Mondays, so a nap sounded good to me too. I think it was about an hour later, I was just starting to get my sleep on when Kaitlyn woke up. Jen went to get her and I started to doze back off when suddenly both mother and daughter were front and center next to me at the bed.

K was performing her usual "I'm so happy to see my daddy home from work" routine, which is a kind of modified Happy Dance. I sat up to receive my precious princess but Jen kept holding her at a distance, smiling. I thought this a little odd but I just kept waving and smiling and talking to Kaitlyn, waiting for mommy to let her come see her favorite daddy. Finally Jen asked me if I liked Kaitlyn's new shirt (the one she's wearing in the picture above).

Daddy: When did she get a new shirt? And who the hell approved that expense?

Mommy: "We went to Babies 'R Us today."

Daddy: "Oh you did, did you?"

And just as I was spooling up for paragraph two of my "the child has more clothes than I do" speech, Jen asked me if I saw what the shirt said. Obviously not, I was still on the fact that she bought her yet another article of clothing. Why are they always trying to change the subject? Besides, I'm the daddy, if the child is clothed, I'm happy. If she's wearing the Gettysberg Address on her clothing, that's mommy's department. To keep the peace, I read the shirt.

Daddy: "She can't wear that."

Mommy: "Yes she can."

Daddy: "No, she CAN'T!" (what,does she think I'm dumb or something?)

Mommy: "Yes, SHE CAN!"

Daddy: "Wait...what?"

So now you know and you more or less found out the way I did. But the most amazing part--apparently Jen CAN keep a secret. What's more, she waited a whole six days before we told the grandparents.

And that was the fourth of May.

The Things Kaitlyn Does: #4

The Happy Dance

The Things Kaitlyn Does: #3

No matter how many times I correct her, K still insists that "ball" is the same thing as "open". I know this because when she brings me a something to open and says "ball? ball? ball?" and I say "you mean open?" she smiles and does her happy dance. Opening and closing things sometimes occupies her for hours.

Happy Father's Day Grandpa!

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The Things Kaitlyn Does: #2

I started to vacuum one day and Kaitlyn got scared. In order to calm her down and show her there is nothing to be afraid of, I picked her up and let her vacuum with me. It proved to be a pretty good workout. Unfortunately, every time someone opens the closet where the vacuum "sleeps", Kaitlyn gets inspired to clean. I guess it's cheaper than a gym membership.

The Things Kaitlyn Does: #1

On most holiday weekends on my block, you'll find me sitting in the middle of the street with my neighbors, enjoying good food, conversation, and more than a few refreshing beverages.  

Memorial Day was no exception this year.  

In order to try and avoid the worst of the hot, humid, South Texas weather typically brewing towards the end of Spring, we started the party this year rather late, at 6:30--late at least by Kaitlyn's standards.  

After running around for about 3 hours, Kaitlyn started getting cranky.  She started walking away from us down the middle of our dark residential street. 

At first I thought she was heading for the cones that were set up to route traffic around our little street soiree, but she kept walking. 

Jen started following and called her name. Without turning around, K just kept walking, throwing her hands up in the air as if to say "I've had enough". She walked all the way home, went into the house, straight to her room, took some clothes out of her pajama drawer, and waited for mom to put her to bed. 

She probably wrote in her diary the next day about how awful her parents are to keep her out so late.

Deadbeat parents.

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Kaitlyn's New Car Seat

Walk Right In

The Year I Got Kicked Out Of Church

Every year, immediately after New Years, my wife and I begin an annual tradition. It has nothing to do with black eyed peas. Once the dust settles, the lights are packed away, and life as we once knew it begins to resume (say around the first week of February), we each lay down the law about what we’re absolutely not going to do next year. During the course of what is often “heated discussion”, neither of us thinks to write any of it down. As a result, nine months later we start arguing about exactly how and where we’ll be miserable for the upcoming holiday season.

Part of the problem is that my company shuts down at the end of the year and, with a few strategically placed personal days, I usually end up with close to three weeks off. That means 21 days to carefully and fairly balance between my family, my wife’s family, transportation to and from the family, my sanity, my bank account, and my bottle of Johnnie Walker—you know, to celebrate Christmas.

If I were Charlie Brown, my wise-beyond-his-years spiritual philosopher friend Linus would probably sit me down and give me a long speech with his blue blanket about how Christmas isn’t about all that; “Christmas is about Jesus” he’d say. No, it’s not. If Christmas is about Jesus then why did I spend seventy five bucks on a dead tree that I dragged out of my house nine days before Christmas so I could drive 1200 miles across the country with a wreath tied to the bumper, lights wrapped around the luggage rack, and presents piled so high I couldn’t see out the rear-view mirror? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Jesus’ idea to stop every 75 miles to change a poopy diaper either. We’d have to be out of our minds to do all that for Jesus when there is a perfectly good Catholic church fifteen minutes down the road with plenty of Jesus for everyone. No, Christmas is about sanctimonious Christmas letters from people you don’t really even know and 21 days of high octane super concentrated family.

Like every good family man amidst all this Christmas cheer, I try to find the perfect mix of Clark W. Griswold and Linus. And what better time and place to contemplate the Christ in Christmas than Christmas mass together as a family. As many of you know, Kaitlyn’s “Papa” is a musician and in recent years has increasingly shared his musical talents on weekends and religious holidays with Catholic and Christian churches throughout the county. Last year, he played at all the masses on Christmas Eve at Corpus Christi “Catholic-Christian Faith Community”, which meant he would be unable to join us for any of the high octane family fun that night. We decided to attend one of the Christmas Eve masses in order to be with him. Despite arriving thirty minutes early, it was standing room only. We settled in against a wall near the back of the church and I scouted a single chair a few yards away for Jen, who you may remember was pregnant at the time. When I returned from getting her settled, a member of the “Faith Community” had taken the opportunity to occupy my one square foot of standing space and nearly shoved me out of the way when I attempted to reclaim it. I spent the duration of mass contemplating everything but the Christ in Christmas. I vowed not to return.

This year, in an attempt to be conciliatory, I agreed to return to Corpus Christi for Christmas mass in order to again be with my dad and the family. After all, that’s what Christmas is all about, right? This time, in order to avoid the loving Christian hostility of the crowd, we went to the 8AM mass on Christmas Day. To our delight, the church was barely half full. We found an empty pew in the front row and settled in for a peaceful Christmas mass together as a family—three generations worth ready to put the Christ in Christmas! Linus would have been proud. As I glanced down the pew at my family, all dressed up, and my dad up near the altar on his drum set, I was proud and content. For a few minutes, I even forgot about my friend Johnnie who got left at the house with the dog.

Just then, Jen leaned over to me. Out of the corner of my eye I had seen a woman walk over to her and say something quietly. I figured it was probably another woman doting on Kaitlyn’s cuteness. At home it usually happens to us every week at church. Jen whispered in my ear as she picked up the diaper bag, “we just got asked to leave”.

That old sentimental bastard Johnnie Walker missed me. He saw the content look on my face and got scared; figured our relationship was over. So he sent over an angry old woman to ask us to move into the crying room. I looked around the church. The congregation had been singing the entrance hymn accompanied by a full band—A FULL BAND. Kaitlyn, in her usual way, was smiling and laughing and cooing amidst the noise. It didn’t seem to be bothering any of the other ten people at mass, yet this wench wanted us out—ON CHRISTMAS DAY!

I leaned over to Jen and said, “stay here”. I had no intention of leaving, at least not voluntarily. My wife, on the other hand, was now self-conscious. She grabbed the child and the diaper bag and walked off to the crying room. Steam began pouring out of my ears. If the church had a steam room I’m sure the church Nazi would have sent me to it. Reluctantly, I grabbed the remainder of our things and followed my family as the other ten parishioners watched. My sister was a few steps behind. As I passed the crotchety woman with white hair and red velour’s, I muttered a “Merry Christmas” between clenched teeth. I’ve been asked to leave plenty of bars, but by God this was a church and I wasn’t even drunk! 

I spent the next thirty minutes trying to forget it, but every time I saw my mom and brother sitting there in the front row, a few feet from Cruella Deville, I was reminded of how hard we worked to get the whole family to mass at the same time so we could be together. Now I couldn’t even appreciate the music because I was hearing it through a pair of tin cans in the ceiling.

About thirty minutes later it was time for the collection and we realized the woman who asked us to leave was an usher. That made me even angrier—ON CHRISTMAS DAY! We were practically alone in the crying room and Kaitlyn was passed out in my arms. The usher came in with the basket. I did my best to avoid eye contact while my wife shot laser beams out of her eyes. The usher, obviously picking up a negative vibe, came over and said she hoped we weren’t offended by having to leave the main church. I told her I absolutely was offended and pointed out how much of a disturbance my daughter turned out to be. She told me if she hadn’t said something, Fr. Fred would have. 

I had just spent the better part of the last half hour trying to be loving and forgiving and calm but all the time wondering how this woman could be so mean-spirited to a baby. After I found out she was just carrying out the boss’s orders I spent the next thirty minutes wondering what could possibly possess a Catholic priest to banish children from the church—ON CHRISTMAS DAY! After taking down our Christmas tree nine days before Christmas to drive a packed car halfway across the country, stopping every 75 miles for two days to change a poopy diaper, and then having to make sure everyone got their equal share of time with their son, daughter, niece, and granddaughter, I just wanted to go to mass with my family and watch my dad play the drums. It turns out at Fr. Fred’s church, that’s not what Christmas is about.

Of this I can be sure; next year the last 21 days of the year will be miserable--but it won’t be at Fr. Fred’s church. This year I’m writing it down.

Kaitlyn's Christmas Letter

Dear friends and family,

When daddy read a few Christmas letters out loud to me and mommy, I decided I wasn't going to write one this year. At nine months I just didn't think anything interesting has happened in my life. I didn't get a new job; nobody gave me a raise or a bonus; I'm not building a vacation home or fighting with tenants; and no matter how hard I try, nobody has bought me a new car. I can't even write to tell people how many hundreds of thousands of dollars I lost in the stock market because I didn't have any invested. I dismissed the idea completely until, after reading the last letter, daddy insisted that I should write a letter of my own. Let's see if I have the hang of it.

I think you all know by now that Kaitlyn moved in March. It wasn't as stressful as people make it out to be, but I totally did not even see it coming. One day I was floating blissfully along in my own little world and the next...BAM!, welcome to your new home. The hardest part has been the climate change, it's so much colder here! I'm getting used to it though, and I seem to have no shortage of clothes to keep me warm. Sometimes I change three times a day!

In May Kaitlyn took her first airplane ride. I pooped on the plane. Those bathrooms are pretty tiny and it was funny watching daddy try to maneuver. We had a layover in Dallas. Our destination was sunny California for my baptism. I was baptized at the same church where mommy and daddy got married. After the baptism, we went back to my Nana and Papa's house for a big party. Daddy had to go to the store first and pick up the keg and more guacamole. On his way to get the guacamole though, his friend Chris that he went to high school with picked up the guacamole instead.

Unfortunately, the airplane ride was not so good for Kaitlyn. She had a little cold and by the time everyone arrived back home in San Antonio, the pressure changes on the airplane caused an ear infection. My doctor missed it when I went to see what was wrong and mommy and daddy ended up taking me to the emergency room. We went to the same hospital where I was born. It's a beautiful hospital and everyone there is very nice. We are so lucky to live in such a lavish area. We were back home in less than two hours with our prescription. Mommy and Kaitlyn waited in the car while daddy got the medicine. The pharmacist recognized him from the childbirth classes they took. His baby is doing well.

I had several visitors to San Antonio this year. Shortly after my birthday, both sets of grandparents came to visit me as well as my aunt Shannon. There has been a lot of debate about what my grandparents want me to call them. My mommy's parents are going to be grandma and grandpa. My daddy's parents are confusing. Grandma doesn't like grandma, and grandpa wanted to be called Cozy Bear. Daddy has been calling them Grandma Daisy Nana and Grandpa Cozy Papa in order to cover all the bases. I think we've finally decided on Nana and Papa, although Grandma Daisy Nana still seems a little unsure. I usually just call them both "eeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhh!".

In August, daddy went to Ireland with Nana, Papa, my aunt Shannon and uncle Patrick. They had to bury my Great-Nana. While daddy was gone, Grandma came to stay with mommy and Kaitlyn. We had so much fun! In October, Nana came to visit Kaitlyn with her dad, Great-Grandpa. We had four generations together in our house! I got to paint a pumpkin at the pumpkin patch. Great-Grandpa stayed home and read the paper.

A few weeks ago, my friend got to take a fabulous week-long vacation to Disney World in Florida with her entire family and all of her grandparents. They had a blast and got to see all our friends from Playhouse Disney. They brought me a Minnie Mouse Santa hat. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is my favorite show. I love to watch it in my big beautiful house. I have three rooms and my very own pink bathroom! Daddy says it's a good thing that I love my house because after his trip to Ireland and mommy being so sick while I was in her tummy, we can't afford to go anywhere for a very long time.

Kaitlyn seems to be a pretty smart little girl because I'm only nine months and I'm already standing up, walking with help, and writing my own Christmas letters. By the time I see Nana and Papa again, I'll probably be walking on my own and talking!

I think that's all, it's been a pretty dull year. I hope to have a more exciting letter for you all next year! Merry Christmas!

Love,
Kaitlyn