A'musing' Munchkins

Kids are a constant source of entertainment. I'm certain that is the reason I have them, and with some proper training, they'll become very useful in removing ridiculous amounts of snow from the sidewalks.



In addition to the surprise murals found behind furniture and independently crafted body art, the things they say make up for Desitin covered couches and scorch marked carpet bearing evidence of a flashlight left in the "on" position and placed lens facing down for an unknown amount of time.

Here is a sample from the past week alone.

Tyler - age 3:
"I'd like more mashed ma-tatoes please."

"This train moves back & thorth, back & thorth."
It's the little bit of Viking in him shining through.

"Mmmm. That was yummyish."
('Yummy' is often interchangeable with 'tastyish' as well.)

While Derek was helping him with his cereal at breakfast Tyler said,
"Will you help me with this the rest for my life?"

"Do bubbles turn into cotton balls?"

Tyler was at my parent's house and asked
"Grandma, do we have any laundry to do today?"
Note to my mom: Stop tapping their domestic-duty abilities, it's severely reducing their productivity at our house.

"Mom, I think I love you."
Good job little man, at least you're thinking.



Riley - age 5:
"I know how to say 'friend' in Spanish! It's 'friend-o.'
That's OK baby, that's how I speak Spanish too.

We had to pick up some accoutrements for Lucifer this week. After returning home, Riley was intently watching me clean the loo for the cat.
"Mom, that doesn't look like kitty-glitter."
The chore would be a lot more pleasant if it sparkled & shined.

My Dad gave Riley a quarter and asked her to babysit her Grandma for one hour while he went to work, she replied;
"I can't, I'm not a human!"


These are classics.
Riley: Mom, when I grow up I want to be a doctor so I can touch a brain with my brain gloves on.

I asked her if she knew I was proud of her for eating good food, she replied,
"I know. It makes me strong and filthy."

My very favorite, "Stop it Mom! You're making me stupid."
Good reminder, thanks Riley.

The Devil in Disguise

A little over a week ago, Derek went for an early morning bike ride on the Legacy Trail. About an hour later he called the house. When I answered the phone he said, “Hi.”
There it was, that tone in his voice and if you know Derek you’ll understand my immediate thought. “Yeah, he’s about due for an injury” expecting him to say something like, “Hey could you meet me at Lakeview?” or “I’m at LDS hospital.” For awhile there I91 was neck-in-neck with Injury-59.

“I found a kitten,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Can I bring him home?”
“No, I’m a heartless beast and there is no room here for a kitten.”

Just kidding, that wasn’t my reply and there is room I suppose.

We always had dogs (or dōggies as my 2 year old niece calls them in her best James Taylor accent) growing up in the Enquist home. We also had fish, frogs, stray bunnies; my brother had a Cockatiel and turtles. I also had ferrets, the Pucks in the world of domesticated pets, but never before had I lived with a cat.

Reasons I Don’t Like Cats:
1. They are from the devil.
2. They are useless. Show me a seeing-eye-cat or a police department that employs a bomb/drug sniffing, criminal apprehending feline unit and I might change my mind.
3. I’m allergic to them.
4. Feline is Latin for “I will strategically place myself under your foot when you step”
5. If you look at them wrong, they’ll scratch your eyes out.
6. They have highly developed Ninja skills.
7. They are alien beings sent here if the form of loving fuzz balls, only to take over the world when we least suspect it.

Sufficed to say, Derek & the munchkins are smitten by the kitten. They refer to him as Gnocchi. I will affectionately refer to him as Lucifer.

Grammar Snob? or Is Society Becoming Increasingly Stupid?

If you want to see me cringe, watch me when I listen to Neil Diamond’s Play Me. I love him and his music, really I do, but “song she brang to me?” Honestly Neil? That was the best you could come up with?

Coincidentally, earlier this week Sarah’s word creation “refudiate” was recognized as the year’s best new word by the New Oxford American Dictionary. Fantastic! Look at that, I’ve answered my own question, but why stop there with this rant?

I suppose I’m somewhat of a grammar snob. Mine is far from perfect, but I’m amazed how little it is practiced by others. I have my fair share of typos, forgetting to insert a word here or there, but I make an effort not to be completely lackadaisical with the basic rules.

One afternoon I took a call in dispatch. I had obtained the location of the suspect in the theft (the prostitute that took the caller’s money without having rendered the services negotiated), and repeated back to the caller something like,
“Alta Motel, that’s where she’s at?”
After I finished the call, a friend & co-worker sitting nearby just shook his head and said with utter disappointment,
“Rachelle, you know better than to end a sentence in a preposition.”
Ouch. That hurt the ego a little, but he was right.

When I was about 6 or 7 years old, I informed my grandma, “I’m done eating my lunch” so that I could be rewarded with a sip of her opened bottle of Tab sitting on the counter. I clearly remember her response,
“Meat is done. You should say that you are finished instead of done.”

I recall telling my mom that “Me and Chelsey are going outside to torment my younger brother with nicknames that he despises.”

“Mean Chelsey?” my mom asked.

I was thinking to myself, “Yeah, I guess its a little mean.” only because we found such delight in the aforementioned activity.

“It’s ‘Chelsey and I’. Chelsey and I are going outside…”
(side note: these rules for quotations are killing me and by now I’m sure they’re all incorrect)

Having perused applications each spring from high school students, emails, and the constant misuse of conjunctions by Facebook users, I’ve decided that instead of a Coke I’d like to buy the world a Speak & Spell or at least a lesson on how to use spell check.

A few other points of interest before we conclude this weeks meeting:

- Riley’s friend, Kohl, came over for a play date this week. As he began making himself comfortable in our home I said, “I’m so glad you were able to come over.”
He looked at me with the most serious 5 year old face and replied, “Why wouldn’t I? You can count on me.”
Kids like Kohl restore my hope for the future.

- I have been cohabitating with a cat for 1 week now. Yes, you read that correctly. (Sigh) That will be my next post.

Cancer Tips 101

I had cancer, but it didn’t have me. Upon reading that it may seem slightly pretentious, but I’m still here and writing this, so it must be true. I’ve never been thrilled about putting myself in the “survivor” category. I believe there are many others that endured far worse than I have and much more deserving of that title.

When I was diagnosed, people suggested other blogs, books, and experiences with me. I was very grateful for this support, though I must admit I did not follow any of the blogs. Honestly, many of them were too damn depressing! Everyone’s experience is going to be different as will the effects of treatment.
I’ve had many friends ask me how they can help or support someone they know who’s been diagnosed with cancer. Some of you may be reading this because a mutual friend has referred you here. If that is the case, think back to when you were little and you got your first pair of Underoos. Mine were Spider Girl, and I know I was invincible when I had them on. I could feel the super-hero power surge through me. If you have been diagnosed with cancer or something as equally terrifying, get your proverbial Underoos on baby, because you’re going to need them!


Aside from love and support from the most incredible family & friends, unnumbered prayers and strength from many unseen, here are some things that helped me:

-Eat well. We inexplicably feel inclined to bake cookies or a chocolate dessert to help someone feel better. If you’re wondering what to give someone, try fruit, instant breakfast mix, granola bars, or Gatorade packets. Chemo (radiation depending on the area receiving treatment) can dry out your throat & mouth, so gum, hard candy with ginger (for nausea), or lifesavers are great to have. Don’t overload them with sugary confections.

Have oatmeal and yogurt the mornings you have Chemo treatments. This helps coat your stomach lining and the acidophilus in yogurt will help with mouth sores or cankers.

Use plastic utensils if you notice foods have a metallic taste. Chemo destroyed my taste buds. I couldn’t stand the taste of Coke and certainly not any soda from a can, I had to drink from a glass & use a straw.

Friends made chicken enchiladas for us one night. That was a HUGE help. My kids had something good to eat for dinner (not fast food) when I was too tired to make it, and it also gave Derek a break.

-Use a silk pillowcase. Unless you’re used to not having hair, when it falls out, your scalp will be tender. If you can no longer tolerate losing hair by the handful, shave it off. If and when you do, your follicles will continue to grow and irritate your scalp. Use baby oil for the first few days. Eucerin Calming Crème was excellent, for scalp & dry skin from radiation.


-I was fortunate to find a great wig and well worth the expense. This is what I get asked about the most, because vanity is alive & well and I fully support it! I went to Headcovers by Joni on 3300 south in SLC. My wig was from the Alan Eaton collection, style: Peace, color: Crème Brulee.

-The only book I would recommend is ‘Crazy Sexy Cancer Survivor’ by Kris Carr.

-Wear waterproof mascara to EVERY doctor’s appointment.

-Get off your ass. If you sit on it all day and tell yourself you can’t do anything, then you are absolutely right. I tried to go for a short walk every night, even if that was just around the block. If it was too cold, I’d walk around the grocery store. Do what your body will allow you to do.

I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday, and I love today.
-William Allen White

First of Many

Riley has been in Kindergarten a little over 2 months now. We had our first parent-teacher conference this week, got her 1st report card (that was weird), and our first major melt-down today.

We were running a little late this morning, so as we arrived to school, most of the kids were already inside. Riley got out of the car and headed towards the front steps when she turned and looked back at me. At first, I thought maybe she forgot her backpack or gloves, so I rolled down the window. She walked back to the car and said, “Mom, can I tell something?” Then her eyes welled up with tears. “I’m a little sad” as the tears were now streaming down her cheeks. By now I’m getting out of the car as fast as I can. I picked her up and we stood there crying together for a few minutes. We decided that she was still going to have a good day at school and I’d be back shortly to pick her up. As much as I wanted to take her back home and snuggle the rest of the day, I let my brave little girl walk back into school. I’m so thankful that she has a wonderful teacher that is kind, nurturing, and loves her too.

“Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

—Elizabeth Stone

September I'll Remember - Part II

Why do I go to the Utah State Fair each year?

a) To see the new culinary atrocities presented, e.g. deep fried bacon dipped in chocolate.

b) I like to pretend I’m at a Jazzy/Rascal power scooter convention. Seriously, it’s like watching the live version of WALL-E. “Time for lunch…in a cup!”

c) It makes me feel better about my hair and my full set of teeth. I’m the last person to be criticizing hair-styles, but good gracious, will the mullet EVER die?!

d) I find a certain joy in walking around the pig pens next to Derek in his uniform, just waiting for someone to make the obligatory “pig” joke.

e) It is better than a trip to Wal-Mart!

f) all of the above.

I'm quite sure this is the guilty one.

***

A Day in the Garden

Last week, I spent a day with Thing 1 & 2 at Red Butte Garden. This is one of my most favorite places in Utah. It was beautiful weather and barely anyone else around. It was perfect. They splashed around in the stream, watched the frolicking squirrels, looked for snakes, and found handfuls of acorns (coconuts according to Tyler). I can’t explain the delight it brings as they walk around the garden and point out certain flowers, by name, that they know & love.

Yes Tyler, fish do have tongues.

September I'll Remember - Part I

I’m allergic to cats. After being even remotely near them I break out in hives, sneeze non-stop, and my eyes swell shut. About a week ago, I had a brief visit with the neighbor’s cat. Afterwards, I promptly washed my hands & arms, but they still itched and the “hives” began to sting. The next day they worsened and moved further up my arm to my shoulder & upper back. A visit to the Dermatologist confirmed that I had shingles.

Back up 28 years ago to Miss Denny’s first grade class, my friend Ben Holbrook was absent for about a week (to a 6 year old that translates to forever) because he had chickenpox. I wish I could convey the dramatic effect that had, sitting at our table of four, but missing one classmate. A few days later I stayed home sick. I just didn’t feel right & had a headache. The nice thing about being sick when you’re little is that you’re treated like royalty. Ok, so maybe not a lot has changed for me since then, but having the T.V. wheeled into your room, the constant availability of Sprite, and being allowed to eat in bed was an extraordinary experience. During one of my mom’s frequent checks on my state of malaise, I pointed out to her that I had this insatiable itch in my armpit. She lifted up my shirt and found that I had chickenpox. Hooray…several more days of special treatment! A few days later, the blisters on my feet were so painful they made it impossible to walk comfortably on the orange shag carpet throughout the house. Since my two younger brothers had also joined in the festivities of itching and scratching, the T.V. remained in the family room. They were so sweet to pull me down the hallway while I sat on my blanket (perhaps another contribution to my princess complex) to avoid any contact with the aforementioned carpet.

Day 2

At Tyler’s last well-visit with his Pediatrician, he recommended that we skip his vaccination for chickenpox because it contains a live strain and I was still in Chemotherapy. I was already taking Acyclovir during treatment due the risk I had with my suppressed immune system, so this seemed like another logical precaution to take. Guess who has chickenpox now? He’s such a trooper; he hardly seems bothered by them and has only slightly complained about how they itch. If you want your non-vaccinated kids to have the experience of a lifetime, send them on over.

Day 3 of my bespeckled wonder. Bespeckled, there's a great word that doesn't get enough playtime.

My Contribution to the 1st Day of School Commentary or Let Her Touch the Butt

Today was Riley’s first day of Kindergarten. I kept thinking of the movie Finding Nemo. Aside from the obvious “First day of school! First day of school!” scene, I could relate to Marlin (Nemo’s dad for those of you who haven’t seen the movie because you dwell in the outskirts of the Himalayas and let’s face it, you’re not going to be reading some narcissistic blog anyway) and his struggle as an overprotective parent.

Riley with her best friend.

The hand-holding was completely unprompted.

Instinctively, all parents want to ensure no one will hurt our kid’s feelings, that they share with their peers, and they wash their hands when they’re supposed to. I expect the desire to comfort and protect them will intensify when they’re about 18 years old. Especially if it involves issues such as not being accepted to the University of Utah and having to attend BYU instead. That they don’t eat a dog turd, roll bowling balls down 1800 south, or stick marshmallows between their butt cheeks & run around, no matter how important the dare may seem.

I have to remind myself that it's not the end of the world if she doesn't always remember to brush her teeth, outfit's she picks out won't always match, and it’s ok to let her “touch the butt.” I won't always be there to hold her hand and she may get hurt on occasion. Failure is also a part of learning and though it may be difficult, it’s also a crucial part of growing up. In the meantime, I’ll try to be more like Crush and sit back for a few and watch what Squirt can do.

My first day of Kindergarten, 1981.

Check out my chic Velour shirt (picked that out myself) and creased jeans!

Happy Campers

Last weekend I went camping at Washington Lake in the Uinta Mountains, near the Trial Lake trailhead. My first real memory of camping was in North Canyon when I was probably 6 or 7 years old. I went with my Dad, Uncle Mike and my cousins Kevin & Tracy from California. I’ve been almost every summer since I can remember. The only time I didn’t enjoy going was during the too-cool-to-hang-out-with-my-family (13 to about 22 years old) phase.

Circa 198?-still-looks-awesome-when-you-tuck-your-shirt-into-your-ridiculous-hiked-up-sweatpants.

So much has changed since my family first started going to this particular lake. There is now a paved road to get there and quite a large campground where many of the sites now require reservations. It was saddening to see the amount of broken glass, soda cans, plastic bottles, fishing line, globs of power bait and socks galore (that one I can’t figure out) littering the lake shore. I kept thinking “stupid humans.” The constant drone of power generators from 7 a.m. to 10:00 p.m. was a little annoying. I admit I’ve been very grateful for the one my parents have with their modest trailer, but the day they hook up a satellite for t.v. while camping, I’m calling it quits.

The offspring love to go, but they have already grown accustomed to certain luxuries that come with being Grandma’s & Papa’s camping-mates. Riley caught her first of many fish this trip. It’s a rite of passage and Grandpa couldn’t have been more proud. I’m no longer a big fan of fishing, because I don’t eat them, but it was exciting to watch Riley fish from the canoe, pleading to catch “just one more” and not wanting to come in from the lake. She is my water-baby.

Tyler on the other hand, is the opposite. He’s more comfortable with his feet on the earth, rocks or in the mud. He was more interested in finding and collecting rocks, bugs, sticks, dogs, the camp host and other toddlers. I won’t be surprised if this kid becomes an Entomologist, Paleontologist, or Ironman.

Tyler charmed the camp host right out of his golf cart.

I was expecting a better show from the Perseid meteor shower. I stayed up until midnight, but didn’t see more than any other time in the mountains. However, the view of the Milky Way was incredible, the stars were majestic and the sky was completely filled with them. After proving that I have mastered the skill of roasting marshmallows to perfection, I’m content for another year.

Amélie would love this place.

The life of Riley

This is a long-winded post, but it’s mostly for Riley to read when she needs it.

Five years ago today, my little angel arrived and changed my life for the better ever since. I was elated, a new role as a parent, though I admit I was clueless. I had rarely held newborns and had changed a diaper maybe once or twice. I read all the popular baby books and the baby’s room was ready & waiting.

During my 8 month prenatal visit, my O.B. asked me how long I’d been having Braxton-Hicks. I replied, “I haven’t had any yet.” She looked at me and with all seriousness said, “You’re having one now.” Oh. That frequent, rock-hard tightening of my stomach was a practice contraction? Yep, I was completely naïve to the whole realm of pregnancy. I didn’t want to know the gender of the baby until “it” was born, but I also had a problem with referring to the baby as “it.” I don’t remember exactly how the name “Bean” came about, but it stuck and she introduces herself today as such.

My pregnancy had gone rather well, no complications & only minor discomfort from heartburn, sleepless nights, temporary carpal tunnel and cankles. Hmmm…not much has changed. I had no idea what was in store. The morning of July 7th, I woke up & something just felt different. I can’t explain it in words, but I was at peace and remember thinking, today’s the day Bean will be here. This was the calm before the storm.

I had my weekly appointment with the O.B. that morning. Derek & I were carpooling to work as there was only an hour difference in our shift schedules. He kept my hospital bag in the patrol car, just in case. We went to the doctor’s office before work. After the exam, she said everything looked well and wouldn’t be surprised to see me again that night. This baby was on the way. I wasn’t having major contractions, so she told me to go home and take it easy. I asked if I could just go to work instead. She laughed and said, “Sure, if you want to.” I didn’t want to waste my maternity leave when I just sat on my ass at work anyway, and it was only a few blocks from the hospital.

Following the appointment, I walked across the street to Einstein’s on 500 East for a Tasty Turkey sandwich on a sunflower bagel and Odwalla lemonade (I passed on the grotesquely large dill pickle). I can remember exactly what I ate for lunch five years ago, but not what I had for breakfast yesterday (thank you Ambien!) Then I walked to work. My shift began at 2:00 and usually ended at 11:15 p.m. I made it to 10:45. The contractions had become too painful to sit still. I called Derek (his patrol shift ended at midnight-thirty & he notified his Sergeant that he needed to leave. He picked me up from the station and we went to the hospital.

My O.B. was the on-call that night and just happened to already be there. She did a quick exam and as she started to leave, my water broke. She walked back to me and noted the presence of meconium. The NICU was advised so they would be present for immediate suction of the baby’s lungs upon delivery. That’s what would happen in a perfect world.



You’re probably familiar with my tolerance to pain. I welcomed an epidural and can’t imagine labor without one. It was so effective that I was able to sleep throughout most of the night. I can’t say the same for Derek. My room faced the “U” on the mountainside and I watched the sunrise that morning. As the contractions became closer together my doctor and nurses gathered in my room. Derek was instructed by my doctor to call the NICU and tell the nurses to “get in here now!” as they had not responded to her previous requests. After 11 hours of labor, Bean couldn’t wait any longer. At 9:58 a.m. she was finally here. My doctor did the best she could, but the NICU nurses were too late. Riley (Bean’s a baby girl!) had aspirated meconium. She was cleaned up, bundled, and handed to me. Of course she was beautiful beyond words.



As I held her I noticed Riley’s fingers were turning blue. I held an oxygen mask to her for awhile, but the nurses needed to take her to the NICU. She was having difficulty breathing on her own. Her little body was working so hard at fighting off infection in her lungs that it would sometimes forget to breathe. Throughout the day, Derek would give me frequent updates on her progress. Despite all the efforts made, she would stay the next week in the NICU to be monitored and treated with antibiotics. Having experienced an ideal pregnancy, I was not prepared for the reality that things could go wrong during or after delivery. I was devastated.



Following my discharge, the hospital allowed me to stay there for the remainder of the week at a minimal cost. This allowed me to be with Riley as much as possible. Derek would arrive at the hospital first thing in the morning and didn’t leave until late at night, sometimes after her 1:00 a.m. feeding. At night, the nurses would call my room as soon as she woke up to be fed. I’d go quickly, just short of running, down the hallway to the NICU, scrub in, and try to get situated in a rocking chair. I hated hearing her scream as she waited for me. There was little to no privacy and being a first-time mom, I was awkward and clumsy as hell when it came to nursing her. However, after having a handful of strangers gawking at you below the 50-yard line just days before, for the moment you sort of don’t care.



The night before she was released, she was able to breathe on her own. One nurse was shocked by my patience as I sat with a sleeping Riley in lap and using a Q-tip, slowly worked baby oil under the sticky tape on her cheeks that held her cannula (the small tube that delivered oxygen to her through her nose) in place. I couldn’t imagine ripping them off like a Band-Aid from her delicate new skin.



As with so many of life’s lessons, this too was bittersweet. I learned a lot during that week, albeit the longest week of my life. Nurses taught me things that were not in books. I cried as hard as Riley did when the doctor had to relocate her I.V. I’ll never forget the nurse (not one of Riley’s) that told me I was starting a bad habit by sitting in the rocking chair, long into the night, and holding her while she slept. Seriously? She had to be kidding. I couldn’t stop staring this perfect being and was enthralled by every little movement she made. Bad habit or not, I didn’t want to leave her.



You can imagine the delight in being able to take her home. Riley was healthy and thriving. The wait lasted all morning before she was finally discharged. This was the middle of July and a summer I’ll never forget. Daylilies in bloom, hummingbirds & thunderstorms to be watched from the balcony to ease colic, a month later Katrina wreaked havoc and death would knock on my Dad’s door, only for him to say, “I’m a little busy right now, you’ll have to come another day.



It’s no secret, I’ve always been proud of my little Bean. From the start, she’s been feisty, stubborn, very independent, and strong willed. Sound familiar? She’s also quick to forgive, tender-hearted, and the most loving little creature I know. I still have a lot to learn from Riley.



HAPPY BIRTHDAY!