Organized Crime

Just before 8 AM this morning, the Packer Dudes were obnoxiously ringing our doorbell. Yeah, I know they said they drop by any time between 8 and 5 to pick up our first shipment, but did I really think they'd be at my door at the buttcrack of dawn?

No, I did not.

As evident by the fact that I was still in bed perfectly happy to stay that way until the sun actually made an appearance. Which it does not until way after 8 in Belgium when the date is close to the Winter Solstice.

But, the Packer Dudes were all up and at 'em at dark-thirty, demanding that I at least be out of bed & scrambling to find towels at the last minute. OK, so I forgot to prior plan a 12-hour laundry routine & only had a load ready to go into the dryer. Which would have worked out perfectly if they had not showed up at 8. By 10, I would have been a little more chipper & the towels would have been dry.

No problem, I was just a little rushed & slightly unprepared this morning.

That would be just like any other morning.

What was unpleasant for me, was worse for the girls. The teens (Laze-E & Miss Wyoming) were only 4 hours into their "night" of sleep & I had the pleasure of waking them up as I barked orders for them to throw the comforter up over their heads so the Chief Packer Dude could survey the room for the big moving day next week.

They were beyond thrilled.

As expressed by their verbal pleasantries.

Just another day in PCS Hell.

But, do you want to know what was the icing on the proverbial cake? Let me tell you. I was down in the basement with Man while the Chief Packer Dude looked around at what needed to be crated next week. He did his official survey, then wildly waved his arm, his whole arm, and asked if we could organize all this before they returned on Tuesday.

Man quickly replied that it wasn't going to happen today.

I kept my mouth shut.

What I wanted to do was lash out & let bitch reign supreme.

Instead, I took the high road & only managed a pleasant HausFrau smile.

Complete with eyelash flutters.

In an all out effort to be totally passive aggressive, I'm not doing anything to organize anything unless it specifically benefits me. I've already cleared out a lot of plain old trash & I've got boxes ready for the Consignment Shop for when Subourbon HausFrau reopens the Shop next Tuesday.

Beyond that . . . if I say they can kiss my ass, you'll understand, won't you?

Hello?! It's the packers' jobs to organize for me. They start packing my crap into boxes and Wah-La! it's all neatly organized into nice, tight cardboard boxes, completely labeled and inventoried. Then they put it on a crate & I don't have to deal with it until sometime in February.

That's how God & the Army intended. And, that's how it's going to be.

Thankfully, Cheif Packer Dude had the decency not to mention how I needed to dust or vacuum before next week. Had he made that mistake, I fear where my vacuum cleaner and Pledge may have ended up.

On a lighter note, Miss Wyoming's Mom was more than happy to tell me where to find a nice, fat Rx of Chill Pills tomorrow . . . and, Man said he'd be more than happy to drive me to the clinic.

Thanks, Babe. I'd do the same for you.

Wait a minute.

You think they would give us His & Hers monogramed bottles?

Now, that's the way to PCS.

PCSleepOver

Hey, just because we are smack-dab in the middle of PCS Hell doesn't mean that we can't have a little fun. For instance, I just kicked back a can of Strong Bow Cider (Note to Self: Stop by the British Store ASAP, stock up & hide the goods somewhere amongst the extra towels & toilet paper. Wait. We are out of toilet paper. 2nd Note to Self: Have Man buy TP tomorrow since he's the one with transportation. And, milk - we are out of milk too. And, hamburger buns since I have about 6lbs of meat that needs to be eat by, oh, tomorrow!).

We invited a friend for a sleepover & apparently her Haus is so boring that our Haus seemed like a swell idea. In the picture above is Laze-E, Miss Wyoming & MiniMe. They are eating popcorn & the rest of the Halloween candy and watching Mama Mia. They are leaning up against my very cool, second hand trunk & lounging on the mattress that is supposed to be on the fold-out couch but isn't because it needs to be shipped tomorrow. I hope no one rolls over too quick & has the extra cutting board and Tupperware fall from its current location.

Just think, the look of this slumber party is the same decorating style of the new Haus for the month of February. Gosh, I can wait to show you pictures.

And, call Better Homes & Gardens. I'm sure they don't want to miss out.

PCStressing

Oh, Goody Goody Gumdrops! Really? We have Orders? Moving again, so soon? I can hardly wait!

OK, fine. That's what I was thinking (with a heavy shot of sarcasm) on 23 December when that little piece of paperwork was emailed to Man. Only a mere 11 days after that little surprise email offering a really cool job in DC. We all know I am a huge fan of modern technology, but quite frankly, I've had enough of this official business stuff to last me a while. I just want to get back to what's really important, like Facebooking & Blogging. And, the time to enthusiastically do a bang-up job on both.

So, here I am on Blogger making an extreme effort to put together a few coherent thoughts. It's not easy this week. Hot on the heels of the Orders, was a nasty cold virus (for me & the Man-Flu for Man), Christmas, our anniversary & shipping my car. Not to mention a few emergency trips on the Troc Circuit attempting to purchase every last piece of Belgian resale goodness that our Household Goods maximum will allow.

My brain is a total mush that can not be totally blamed on the vino or the NyQuil. WonderWoman called me the other day & it's was difficult to put together my thoughts without the background PCS-distraction rearing its ugly head. I'm sure that was an extremely fun converstaion for her suffer through. Sorry, WW, I promise to do better next time!

While the verbal part of my brain is attempting a conversation, the visual part of my brain is flipping through pictures as fast as their little synapses can carry them. I flash from the current state of disarray of my Haus to putting away Christmas decorations to cooking & emptying out the freezer to cardboard boxes to boxes of Thrift Shop donations to living in a hotel for a month to sitting next to MiniMe for a TransAtlantic flight to sleeping on the floor in our new Haus to DC traffic to maybe applying for a (real) job. That plus more keeps flipping through my mind's eye quicker than a Vegas dealer could ever imagine. Seriously, this is not a PCS for me, it's a PCStress.

Here's the current mess in my kitchen. Dishwasher is full of clean dishes, sink full of dirty. Oh, and yes, MiniMe did dress herself today. Laze-E, too.

My Desk. And this is after a 30 minute job to dejunk.

Most of what's out needs to be organized & probably hand-carried on our journey. Now that I look more closely, I need to deal with that stack of Kindergarten papers. Sigh. And, yes, that is a large black hole where the printer is supposed to be. I think it's downstairs, maybe it has something to do with faxing the lease for the new Haus?

This is the other half of my office. It's not the cute little picture I posted on Facebook a few days ago when I was bragging about my Troc purchases. This would be how it looks after I pile up unaccompanied baggage that will be picked up tomorrow. What you can't see in the picture is the mattress off the couch. I'm really hoping they will pack it since I consider it a brilliant solution to living in a rental Haus without our stuff for a month.

So, how am I holding up? Uh, not so well this time. I think I've just done this so much in the last 4 years that I am PCS-depleted. Used up.

The good news? Once we get orders I refuse to dust or mop. That will save me precious time that can be better spent popping a cork.

So, where's the humor in all this? Flashback to October:

Man: Hey, Frau. We don't want to move to DC, do we? I applied for a job but there's no way they'll pick me.

DC or Bust

This is how it works around my house. We'll be rockin' along all fine & dandy and Bam! out of the blue Man will pop up with a surprise job offer that is too good to pass up.

So he will nonchalantly accept the job & I will panic thinking about 12+ crates of boxes that must me dealt with by me.

If this job offer comes up around the Holidays (& they always do) there's the added stress of pulling off Christmas Magic while working around movers & packers and clearing quarters. I might quickly flip-out absorbing a month's worth of stress in a few moments, but I'll just as quickly make lemonade and get the moving mojo going.

You guessed it. We are moving again - this time headed to DC.

Since I work quickly (because who has time to dilly-dally around in situations such as these?), I've already found a new location for Schloss Rockin'Bauer.

And, it's in a town called Springfield.

How quaint. How Americana.

Of coure, MiniMe got all excited because Ooooohhhhh! Did you say Springfield?! That's where the Simpsons live!

Yep. We Rockin'Bauers know how to find the lowest common denominator. Which got me to thinking about how our move to the DC area during the month of January 2009 will be different from the Obamas' move.

But only slightly.

The Obama vs. Rockin'Bauer PCS to DC SmackDown

Broccoli Commander In Chief vs. Man

Michelle First Lady vs. Michelle HausFrau

Malia & Sasha vs. Laze-E & MiniMe

Secret Service vs. Attack Kitty

Democratic Election vs. PCS Orders

White House ready by 15 January vs. Rental Haus ready by 15 January

Report Not Later Than 20 January 2009 vs. RNLT 1 February 2009

First Class 5-Star accommodations while in transit vs. Army Lodging

First Class 5-Star dining options while in transit vs. Cup of Noodles

Air Force One vs. United Airlines

Limo vs. Pilot

Upscale Private School vs. Fairfax County Public Schools

Private Chauffeur vs. DC Metro

Pennsylvania Ave vs. Middle Class Cul-de-Sac

Diplomatic Dinner Parties vs. Neighborhood Bunco

Paparazzi vs. HausFrau's camera

Washington Post vs. Savvy HausFrau's Blog

Not to mention that we will have an 8-person jacuzzi on the back patio just waiting for us. And, I can drop into a Target at any given time & shop until my heart's content.

Anyone in the Obama Camp willing to respond to that? Anyone?

No?

Hot Tubs, Blogs & Bunco.

Broccoli & the First Frau just can't compete with that.

Just for the record, neither can Homer & Marge.

Flashback to 2001 & 2003

These are my absolute favorite Christmas pictures of my kids.

This one is of Little Laze-E in 2001, age 6.

We were living in Würzburg, Germany.

And, this one is of a 9 month old MiniMe on her first Christmas 2003.
We were in the middle of a PCS from Würzburg to San Antonio & making a pit stop at Nana's Haus in Wichita Falls.

Santa manages to always find us, no matter where in the world we are.

Dear Santa

Fum MiniMe
Two Santa

1 cat wabkinz
little pats
babe dl
scoter
doggie wabkinz
mak up set
princess outfit
teta
"High School Musical Barbies"







*************************************************
Dear Santa:

I've been mostly good this year.
For Christmas, will you please consider bringing the following:

Clothes, Jewelry, Anything Cheap
Friendship necklace
Bras, Starbucks
Something Crazy/Loud
Water Balloons
iTunes gift card
Swap Flowers
Twilight Stuff
Sugar Cookies :O)
Hooker heels - 6
Slutty Girls, Dr. Pepper
2 X thongs, Candy Phone
Paper Money, Socks & Ding Dongs

And, a sleepover with TGirl this weekend.

Tell the Reindeer that I said "Hi". Love, Laze-E
**********************************************************
Dear Santa:

Hey, I know that we are both super busy. I'm a HausFrau, you are Santa. Need I say more? I'll make this easy on both of us. How about two pink EPT lines for Christmas? And, I'll see if Man can cover you on that iTouch.

Gotta Run, ~Savvy
**********************************************************
Dear St. Nick:

Hey, Big Guy. I know that you are almost as busy as my Frau, so I'll make this simple. One pink line is just fine & dandy with me. And, I'll buy her that stupid iTouch for her birthday. If nothing else, just so I quit hearing about it.

Really, just one, OK? ~Man
**********************************************************
Dear Santa:

For Christmas I would really like for you to bring me my wife (CoopaChick) three brand new boob-tops. Not that I necessarily want her driving around topless in the Coopa flashing her über-boobs to Herman The German, but, Dude, you are a guy (you are, aren't you?) & you understand my need to see a little action.

Even if it's just on a few blurry pixels on my Facebook occasionally.

I'll leave the size issue up to you since you, especially since I screwed up that donkey hair sweater from Bosnia that one time.

I promise to be a good boy this next year too while in Iraq.

Just 3 boob-tops that's all I asking.

Okay, maybe 4 or 5 if you think I've been that good. I mean, it's not like I'm asking for a pony or anything. And, you know, boob-tops with those plunging necklines take up way less room on the sleigh than a pony, a regular shirt or even a turtleneck.

Have you seen how much fabric are in one of those bad boys?

It's almost as much as the donkey sweater.

I don't mean to beg, but I'm feeling a little desperate here. If you can't figure out this boob-top thing, I'm not sure how I'll make it through the rest of my training & the deployment.

OK, Santa, I know you are busy, but if you could just help a guy out here, I'd be mucho grateful. I even promise not to fight you for the milk & cookies on the 24th.

Merry Christmas to you! (& hopefully a Ho-Ho-Ho to me!)

Dan the CoopaMan
*************************************************************
Dear Santa:

I'd like to amend my wish-list. Still one pink line & 3 more new boob-tops for me the Frau. Ho, Ho, Ho Boy!

~Man
*************************************************************
Dear Santa:

All I want for Christmas is World Peace.

However, on the boob-tops, I look really good in blues & greens. Maybe a little red & black to keep it interesting because that would look so awesome with my gray Coopa!

Mwah! ~CoopaChick
*******************************************************************

***********************************************************
Dear Santa:

3 new boob-tops would work for me. Remember, two pink lines will help me fill them out quite nicely.

Oh yeah, and World Peace. Don't want to sound selfish or anything.

~Savvy
************************************************************
Dear Santa:

Did someone mention boob-tops?! I completely forgot to add those to my list! They will look lovely with the new hooker heels, bras & thongs. Don't forget the Dr. Pepper.

Love, ~Laze-E XXOOX
************************************************************
Dear Santa:

Clothes, jewelry & anything cheap. Those were the Top 3 on Laze-E's wish list. Cheap as in Consignment Shop, not as in Debbie Does Dallas, OK?

Thanks, Santa, you are the best! ~Savvy
*************************************************************
Dear Santa:

Did I hear someone mention a PONY?! Please, please, please!

I'll be good forever! ~MiniMe

Guess Who

Who is this famous Snowman?

A) Fluffy FrostyBuns
B) SnowFlaky
C) DizzyLizzy CarrotNose
D) BlingBling Shiny-Buttons
E) Sparkle NippyToes

Which reindeer does MiniMe want to be?

A) Comet - because he farts a lot on the Santa Clause
B) Rudolph - the most famous of them all
C) Cathy - the chatty one, you remember her, don't you?
D) Cupid - because it is all about the big, fat, squishy hearts
E) Clarice - if you can't be the most famous, marry the one who is (right, Honey?)

Who is this awesome Trio?

A) Ho, Ho & Ho
B) Doc, Grumpy & Happy
C) Jolly Bing-a-Ling, Snappy TwinkleToes & Zippy Mistletoe
D) SubourbonHausFrau, Mack'sHausFrau & SavvyHausFrau
E) Miss October, Miss November & Miss December Centerfolds of 2008

Flashback to 1975

I'm calling this new venture of mine Friday Flashback. My goal is to give you snippets of my past every Friday. Of course, I will totally edit & embellish every memory to serve my own selfish purposes. Don't we all?

For my first Flashback, I am sharing with you some Christmas Eve pictures from 1975. I had just turned 4 years old a few days before. Because my parents were divorced, I always spent Christmas Eve "with my Dad" at my Nanny's house. These pictures were taken in her den, a converted 2-car garage. Notice new the gold-orange-brown mingled shag carpet.

I realize the pictures are totally retro & a bit blurry, but yes, those are panties & a doll. Little did I know at the time that, 30 years & two kids later, I would be blogging about thong underwear & Rosie the Barbie.

It's either called foreshadowing or self-fulfilling prophecy.

I just haven't quite decided which.

Caught Red Handed

They told me several times that it was just an accident.
I believe them. Don't you?

Snowballs

You know that Kindergarten formal education is paying off when your child makes mathematical connections outside the classroom. As in applying concepts learned in the classroom to real world situations. It might even make your heart swell with pride to witness your offspring do this, espeically if you are a math geek.

Not that I am.

OK, fine. I am.

But, Man is not.

Not that he's dumb by any stretch of the imagination he just learned math in Wisconsin, it's just that he doesn't have ribbons and medals from placing in Jr. High Math Team Competitions.

Not that I do either.

OK, fine. I do.

Several.

And, I was in band.

Which just proves that even geek girls can eventually grow up and have all this.

And a blog, too.

But, this is not about me, it's about MiniMe.

And, her keen mathematical skills.

So, where was I? Yes, bragging about my child. While the Kindy math worksheets require that she practice writing her numbers and circling the set with more, MiniMe is ready to tackle more exicitng real world scenarios.

Can she actually add and subtract? Not if you put it on paper, but she can work simple story problems in her head. OK, Cupcake, If Daddy buys 5 Bratwurst & we all eat one, how many are leftover?

One. And, can I have it?

Right! And, no, you can't have two Bratwurst at one sitting. How about this one? If Daddy buys 6 Kartoffelpuffers, how many can we each have?

One. And, we can split the other two.

Good job!

She's also fairly skilled at comparing objects and drawing conclusions based on their size. As demonstrated this past weekend at a Christmas Market here:

Cochem, Germany

While we were hanging out in the Beer Tent (yes, at a Christmas Market -- first one we've seen) having dinner & warming up, MiniMe makes the following observation.

MiniMe: Hey, Mommy! This snowman has bigger balls than the other one!

Me: (choking on Diet Coke & Rindswurst, laughing obnoxiously)

Me Thinking: So, that's why we don't call them SnowFrauen!

Man: Yeah, Sweetie. That's his buttons.

Me: Buttons?! (still laughing, almost hysterically now)

MiniMe: Dad! They're not buttons. They're balls!

Me: (on the floor at this point)

Man: I don't see what's so funny. What balls? Those are buttons.

MiniMe & Snowman with the small balls

MiniMe & Snowman with the big balls

I composed myself long enough to offer a proper explanation to Man on the finer details on snowman balls, what they were & why I thought the whole conversations was so darn funny. Then proceeded to laugh some more. It was very much the sophomoric behavior you would expect from a 13 year old band & math geek me.

HausFrau Wisdom: When comparing SnowMen, it's not the size of the balls that matter, it's how they are stacked.

Grapes of Wrath

For those of you who are still skeptical, please know that I do not wander aimlessly around the Haus staging and/or creating drama just so I have something to blog about. Usually, my family is coming at me so rapid-fire fast that I have to call a time-out long enough to grab my camera and photograph the evidence because no one would believe me otherwise & I'd be accused of making stuff up photodocument our mundane family events.

But, lately Man & the Girls have been behaving appropriately flying under my radar. The embarrassing truth is that I only managed 5 publications during the whole month of November.

Because they were shamefully failing in their duties as co-stars on this blog, I had to do something. So, to teach them a lesson, I drug them on a 4-day, 770 mile Rockin'Bauer RoadTrip into Germany.

My little shake-up plan worked splendidly and now I can share with you:

Man's Guide to Fine Wine

by HausFrau

First and foremost, don't protest too much should your Frau drag you out of the way to a picturesque village (Cochem) located on the Mosel River. The Mosel valley produces some of the best wine in the world & you might be in dire need of a bottle or two after ferrying the wife and kids around for 3 days straight. So, take the damn detour & be happy about it.

When you come across a wine tasting cellar, get out of Frau's way least she run you over making a beeline for the wine glass insist that your Frau join you for a taste or two. It just might be considered a romantic gesture that might benefit you at a later date and time like cycle days 10, 12 & 14 after a round of Clomid.

Don't Buy everything that your Frau fancies because she fancies all things bottled & you'd go broke and she'd never hear the end of it approximately seven bottles of wine and take special care not to complain because you now have to haul the heavy bag of wine back to the Pilot.

Never complain about wine unless in the context of a nasty hangover.

Instead, be thankful that you get to meander through a beautiful little village as you take the long way scenic route through the Christmas Market on the way back to your vehicle toting some great deals on some great wine.

After yet another hour of driving in the dark, celebrate arriving at the destination with the Kinder intact the brand-spanking-new 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment for $52/night by cracking open a bottle of red wine. Nevermind that you are watching a re-run of Medium and not dining by candlelight. Share a bottle of the smoothest, sweetest bottle of Dornfelder ever with your wife true heart's desire.

Even if aforementioned rockin' accomodations do not have a damn corkscrew anywhere in the freaking kitchen and you this know because you looked in every drawer & cabinet have a well-stocked kitchen when it comes to enjoying fine wine. Don't let that stop the impromptu WeinFest.

And, definitely don't let not having a corkscrew slow you down. As it turns out, a beater from an electric mixer works just fine. Beat the hell out of the beater with the palm of your hand until the cork begins to move.

Very Important: Remember to pause long enough for your Frau to find the camera and start snapping. Paybacks are hell & you might end up eating plain ol' sandwiches for dinner for a month of Sundays if you continue this type of mission without proper consideration for the camera.

Next, wiggle and twist the cook cork to loosen her it up. Protest that you see absolutely nothing blog-worthy about opening a bottle of wine.

Next, whack that beater with all your might, pushing the cork into the bottle of fine wine. Insist that you see absoutely nothing funny about the situation. Remind Frau that all you are doing is simply opening a bottle of wine. Nothing else. You might consider punctuating your position with a frowny face that smacks of pure ignorance confusion.

Pour yourself & your Frau a freakin' huge nice glass of wine. Even if you have to use the ice tea glasses in the cabinet that have Air Force Inn - Spangdahlem stamped across the front. Now is not the time to be all snobby about the Frau's crystal wine glasses to which you have become accustomed. This is better than the disposable plastic cups in the bathrooms.

Chug-a-lug the first glass & then quickly get a refill. Convince yourself that this is acceptable behavior because you can't recork the bottle. Offer your Frau another quick refill & look puzzled because she's barely drank anything in the 90 seconds since you filled her glass. Notice the look of astonishment on your Frau's face as you pour yourself another glass.

And then reply in all seriousness, What?! Was that too redneck for you?!

Ignore your Frau when she responds I don't even know where to begin.

Finally, apologize profusely when your Frau realizes that you drank 3/4 of the bottle before the first commercial break she could even top off her glass. Gently remind her that a marriage is about give & take and that rarely do couples find a perfect 50/50 balance.

Of course, this isn't going benefit you in the bedroom . . .

where you will be sleeping with one eye open.

For a month of Sundays.