A Few Updates

Anybody want to buy a jet ski?  I'll sell it for cheap!

What we have here, folks, is a jet ski that has been sitting in the corner of the garage for approximately 4 months. If you are an avid reader of this blog, as I’m sure you are, then you may remember the infamous jet ski incident of 2011. I don’t have much more to say about this as the picture speaks for itself but we can all agree that picking-up the jet ski during a January ice storm was unnecessary. Memorial Day weekend is upon us and I’ll be curious to see if this thing makes it to the water as it has been sitting there since the day we got it.  Untouched.  Nary a nut nor bolt nor belt has been tightened on this bad boy.

Also, we went to Busch Gardens this past weekend and guess what non-pregnant women can do? Drink and ride the rides. Well, mostly drink since there were a million and one people at the park that particular day and the lines for rides were way too long.  Hence I opted to go the "drink if you got 'em" route rather than the "stand if you got 'em" route.  Also, I figured since the world was supposed to come crashing down around us that day (21 May), I might as well enjoy my last few moments blissfully unaware of the horror around me.  In a way it worked since I was, for the most part, blissfully unaware of the insane amounts of teenagers running into me and the screaming children bursting my ear drums.  Ah, Michelob Ultra.  You complete me.

My First Mother's Day

I had the pleasure of celebrating my first Mother’s Day a few Sunday's ago with the beautiful Alex. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect but let’s be honest any additional holiday that presents are involved is a good holiday. Since Alex was all of 9 weeks old I assumed Marcus would be taking charge of the day but as it turns out I’ve birthed a genius. “Alex” was able to drive to the local bakery and pick-out my breakfast, make a coffee mug with her picture on it, put together three framed pictures for her nursery, and sign her own card (see below). They say Mozart was a child prodigy. He ain’t got nothing on my kid.

Becoming a mother has been an intense journey for me. There were so many things I read during my pregnancy that I felt didn’t apply to me but one of the biggest was the supposed bond I was to be feeling with the baby. I’m not really sure if I felt a bond at all. I was well aware of the baby but it was rare that I talked to the baby or did anything that would indicate some great bond between us. I also read thoughts from other women who were worried they wouldn’t immediately love their baby. Typically their concerns were assuaged with guarantees that they would immediately love their baby once they held them in their arms. The moment I found myself holding Alex I looked down and thought to myself “I don’t feel overcome with emotion right now. I don’t feel like I love her as intensely as I expected.” As I looked down at her I felt like I was being forced to love her because that’s what was expected. I did love her but it felt like a halfhearted love, not an all encompassing love.

In the weeks after Alex’s birth I was less concerned for her and more concerned for myself. I was concerned for my well-being and surprised at how long it was taking to fully recover. Apart from the physical recovery I also suffered from the baby blues for a number of weeks. I kept trying to make sense about why I was feeling so sad, e.g. I was sad because I missed out on the last 5 weeks of pregnancy (ha!), sad that I wasn’t able to have the nursery exactly the way I wanted it before she arrived, etc. Eventually, it became clear that I didn’t need an excuse to be sad. I just was. We went to a birthday party shortly after Alex was born and I ran into two of my girlfriends who helped us tremendously when they heard Alex had been born so early. I was so touched by their kindness (and still am) that as I thanked them I started to cry. I remember the horrified looks of the other party goers who weren’t privy to the conversation taking place; to them I was crying for no apparent reason. A few times Marcus came home to find me crying. Looking back now I think of how tremendous a person Marcus showed himself to be. Not only was he thrust into the role of father but also caregiver of his unstable wife and he did it all with a smile on his face. It wasn’t too long after that I began to feel better both physically and mentally. Now I can easily say that I feel 100% normal aside from the lack of sleep.

Alex is now almost 12 weeks old and this journey into motherhood is starting to make sense to me. I do love her. I love her with such intensity it makes me want to cry and the intensity only grows day by day. I would do anything for her and would lay my life on the line for her. Being back at work is a source of heartache. Leaving her in the morning is so hard and when I get to work I find myself just staring at her pictures on my desk, wishing I was home. I even find myself wanting to change her diaper rather than pass her off on Marcus. If you had told me a year ago I would find myself yearning to change a baby’s diaper I would have laughed in your face while quickly downing a bottle of wine to drown out those thoughts. Now that she’s here I find myself looking forward to the future (but not too far into the future). I can’t wait to find out if she’s going to take after me and want to take ballet lessons or horseback riding lessons. Or maybe she’ll take after Marcus and love playing sports. Whichever direction she chooses later there is one thing she is already doing and that is helping me realize what my role in this world is supposed to be and that is being her mommy.

The kid has impeccable handwriting for one so young.

The Ultimate Man

I recently came across a list I made in the year 1 B.M. (Before Marcus…and yes, I’m well aware of the other definition for B.M. but that’s not what I’m speaking of). It was a list of 20 requirements I had for the “Ultimate Man.” It would appear that prior to making this list I had dated my fair share of not very ultimate men, else how would you explain requirement # 8, “has a car.” Considering I wrote this when I was 24 it’s kind of embarrassing I even went on a date with a guy who didn’t have a car (or at least have access to a car).

So, without further ado I give you the “Ultimate Man” list and how Marcus fares in comparison:

1. Funny – Marcus is funny sometimes. I think we both have to agree that I’m the funny one in this relationship. He is the Desi to my Lucy.

2. Smart – As he is currently finishing up his Doctorate work I think it goes without saying that he is smart. That or he’s a really good bullsh*tter.

3. Attractive (to me) – Yes, I included the parentheses in the original list. Marcus is attractive and I’m pretty certain I’m not the only who thinks so. His mom thinks so, too.

4. Has goals – Marcus has more goals than anyone I know which unfortunately translates into him not understanding why the rest of us don’t have a lot of goals. I remember in the first few years we dated he asked me what I wanted to do with my life and I answered, “be a stay-at-home mom.” He looked at me like I had two heads. It would seem that what he really wanted to hear was I wanted to be the first woman on the moon to knit a blanket.

5. A romantic – This is where Marcus loses brownie points. He’s romantic but only when society dictates (read: Valentine’s Day). To this day I’m still not sure how he wooed me in the early stages of our relationship besides offering to open my can of beer. *sigh* So dreamy.

6. Worships me – Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha*gasps*ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah*wipes away tears*

7. Has a job – Again, embarrassing that I apparently even dated a guy without a job. Needless to say, Marcus does indeed have a job and a good one at that.

8. Has a car – Marcus has a car. And a bus. And a Jeep. And another Jeep. And a Mercedes. And a Ford. And a four-wheeler. And a motorcycle. And a jet ski. And any other vehicle someone is trying to get rid of for cheap. Please, for all that is good and holy, please do not tell Marcus if you are selling your vehicle (of any kind). He will buy it from you and he will definitely pay you less than what you're asking for.

9. Has a home – If you know Marcus then you know he is the poor man’s Donald Trump.

10. Shares my beliefs – While I’m quite sure when I wrote this my beliefs were not the same as Marcus’s I have grown to share his beliefs.  Although, if we're talking about my belief in ghosts he does not share that belief.

11. Same music taste – We do share the same music taste though I may appreciate musicals a lot more than he does. 

12. Reads books – Marcus is a reader! He knows how to sound-out letters and form words! And he does it often! Oh, happy day!

13. Can read (goes w/12) – Oh. My. Word. This is embarrassing. I hope I was being facetious and didn’t actually date someone who couldn’t read.

14. Takes me places – In our 4 short years together Marcus and I have traveled to many places together, i.e. Marcus has footed the bill for our adventures: Hawaii, New Orleans, Las Vegas, NYC, Jamaica, Costa Rica, and the decidedly less exotic Rhode Island.

15. Good kisser – A girl never kisses and tells but I didn’t marry him knowing I’d be stuck with a crappy kisser the rest of my life, ya know what I’m saying, ladies?  Amirite or amirite?!

16. Nice dresser – Weeelllll…it can be achieved it’s just a matter of him wanting it.

17. Close to family – He is close to his family and I love that. In reading my diary it would seem that over time I began to really appreciate how important family is and I’m glad I kept that in mind when looking for my Ultimate Man.

18. Good conversationalist – (I then had an arrow pointing down that read “So far no luck!”) Marcus isn't much of a talker but I think the problem lies in that I talk too much. I’m the one giving people way too much information and he’s the one giving them too little. I guess we balance each other out that way.

19. Loves me – This goes without saying.

20. Talks about our relationship – Whoa, Lauren. Getting a little deep there.

So, that’s my B.M. list of the Ultimate Man and I would say Marcus fits about 90% of the attributes I required. I wonder if he kept a list of his Ultimate Woman? I bet if he made a list today it would include a “Does not blog about me” line.

Alex's First Embarassing Post

After hearing of my grandma’s passing I knew we had to travel to Buffalo regardless of the fact that we would have an 8 week old baby with us. I did hesitate for a split second but only because I didn’t know what the reaction to a newborn at a funeral would be. It wasn’t until after I talked to my mother-in-law that I decided it would be a good thing to bring Alex and hoped that she could bring some happiness to a sad situation.

On that note, I can assure you she most certainly brought the happiness to a sad situation and then some. In fact, it was during grandma’s funeral that she reminded us that there is happiness in the world.

Grandma’s funeral was held at Our Lady of Victory Basilica in Buffalo, NY. If you have a moment take a look at it here: http://www.ourladyofvictory.org/Basilica/Welcome.html. After seeing the church I hope you can appreciate how big it is and as such how much noise resonates through the sanctuary…especially during quiet moments with a minimal crowd. Moving on.

Alex was a perfect angel during our 9 hour trip to Buffalo, during the wake, during the funeral and I’m not just saying that. She really was. For a baby that, in my opinion, never sleeps she slept almost the entire time during all three of those events and everyone adored her. However, during grandma’s funeral she grew just a tad bit fussy. Still asleep in Marcus’s arms she began her little noises that can mean a few things: 1. I’m waking up. 2. I’m hungry. 3. I’m uncomfortable and something is making its way out and whichever way it comes out will just have to be a surprise. It turns out this was a number 3 noise. During one of the more quiet moments of the service my beautiful, baby angel exploded in her diaper with a force the likes I have never heard before. I certainly heard it then as did everyone within a five pew radius of ours. As I saw heads turn and heard smothered laughter it became increasingly harder for me to not lose it. Teetering on the edge of tears and laughter it was a moment I won’t soon forget.

Later, my grandpa who is hard of hearing and did not actually hear the trumpeting of the babe, laughed about it with the rest of us. That in itself made bringing Alex worth it. Thinking about it, there is no doubt in my mind the heavens heard her and I am quite sure that grandma was laughing with the rest of us.

Thus concludes my first post that will one day mortify my daughter.

Kathryn Marjorie Rojek (nee Stortz)

Last month my grandma Rojek passed away at the age of 88. It’s hard to fathom what a lifespan of 88 years must be like. When my grandmother was born into her German-Amish family she rode a pony to school and traveling salesmen came and went in horse-drawn carriages. By the time she died the majority of American’s were traveling via vehicles, airplanes, or trains and the need for traveling salesmen has all but vanished. Before she died my cousin sat with her and talked about her long life and the one sentiment that has stuck with me to this day is that grandma did not want to die. Ever. She loved life too much. I could feel this in the last few times I spoke with her. It was, in fact, her love for life that kept her alive so long. She had been admitted to the hospital on numerous occasions during the last two years and every time she fought her way out. This last time though, she just didn’t have the fight.

Growing up (and admittedly, to this day) my sisters and I fondly referred to grandma Rojek as “grandma with the buffalo” due to the fact that we were lucky enough to have both sets of grandparents and needed a way to differentiate between them. Thus, grandma and grandpa who lived in Buffalo, NY were dubbed “grandma and grandpa with the buffalo,” and grandma and grandpa who owned horses were dubbed “grandma and grandpa with the horse.” Even though Buffalo was far away I always felt a special connection with grandma and I attribute that to her efforts to be a grandmother to us even when she was so far away. Being the pack-rat that I am I have every card and letter she ever sent me. In the later years the letters dwindled but mostly due to grandma’s declining eyesight. I know that if she could have she would have sent a card or letter up until the day she died.

Her eyesight wasn’t the only aspect of her body that declined over the years. At the age of 34 grandma began experiencing the onset of rheumatoid arthritis. For as long as I can remember grandma was a giant of a person in a body, crippled with arthritis. Her hands were claw-shaped, her back was bent, and she could barely move her legs in order to go up or down stairs. Grandma was tough and as such she refused the use of a wheelchair in her later years. She walked everywhere no matter what. Despite all of her physical handicaps grandma did what grandma’s do best when we three girls would visit: she would feed us, visit places with us, and hang-out with us telling stories of her childhood. I think this just goes to show that no matter the form a grandma, is a grandma, is grandma.

With the passing of grandma with the buffalo I am experiencing the first big loss within my immediate family and every day I think of her. With that being said it’s not me I feel sorry for. I feel sorry for my grandpa, grandma’s husband of nearly 65 years. My heart breaks for him and the giant hole that has surely been created in the passing of his wife. I overheard him telling my uncle that after he gets home he just stands there and yells. I imagine after 65 years of having a person by one’s side yelling would be only one of many emotions expressed.

During grandma’s wake and funeral there were many things mentioned about her but mostly it was this: Grandma Rojek was not only a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother but she was a strong, brave, loving woman who was admired by many, many people throughout her life.  As a testament to her love and our love for her there are now three of us in the family who share the same middle name "Kathryn" in honor of grandma:  me, my cousin's firstborn, and now my own firstborn.

Finally, without wanting to sound trite, grandma really was an inspiration to anyone who has ever felt sorry for their situation. For half of her life grandma struggled with a disorder that would have brought any other person to their knees but never did she complain; she accepted her fate and moved-on, living her life to the fullest. I can only hope to achieve a happiness such as hers.