Once upon a time there was a school that never let people breathe.
All in Alyssa
With as much writing as I do, I've never been a "Christmas letter" guy. A few years ago I quietly published one as a parody that I doubt anyone actually read. Reflecting on events of the past year, and as holiday greetings arrive from assorted friends, family, and enemies around the country, I feel compelled to give it another go. Not being a Christmas letter guy, I will do my best, using letters I've received as my guide. Since it seems that every letter shares some element of random excruciating detail nobody will actually care about, I'll start there.
Thank you all for your thoughts, prayers, and words of encouragement while we deal with Alyssa's recent infection. As most of you know, I collect mugs from my travels: one mug for each state or country visited. Only rarely do I use a mug from my collection. This week I have decided to invoke the luck of the Irish and have been enjoying my morning coffee out of the Ireland mug I bought while in Lurgen two years ago for my grandmother's burial. Call me superstitious, but it worked for Nana for over 80 years. So here's to the fighting Irish. Let's kick the infection's ass.
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.
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.