mostly pictures...wait nevermind, I ramble too.

I've got my (magical) desk assembled and was able to get my shiny new iMac put up. It. Is. Amazing. Things are slowly starting to find their way into drawers, shelves, and cabinets, clearing the floor for purposes like, you know, walking. It feels so good to have things begin to settle. There's still a long way to go, and I had the thought the other day about how I'm likely to get the last few things into place the week before the movers come again in the spring. Still, it makes for an exciting life.

If you've followed this blog for any length of time, you know that I struggled a bit (sometimes a little more than a bit) with living in Germany. It's something that is difficult for me to admit, because in my mind there is this notion that it should have been an entirely magical experience, one that we would look back on longingly and cherish for all our days, eternally pining for schnitzel and driving our children crazy with stories of black forest cake and the Rhine. It just wasn't the case for me. It was a good experience--I don't regret living there, but it was limiting in many ways and isolating. I made a few treasured friends in Baumholder, ones I hope to keep always, but on the whole it was a very lonely time. I've always considered myself an introverted person, but in my own way I've always made connections with people of shared interests. Growing up I was involved in choir, in junior high there was band, high school had choir and theater, and LTC dominated my college years. Connections like those were practically non-existent in Germany.

When I found myself unhappy, I felt the fault must lie with me. If I couldn't manage to find excitement and happiness in magical Germany, it must me my problem, my failure. As we prepared for our move back to America and I looked forward to coming home after four long years abroad, I began to worry that my restless dissatisfaction with some aspects of my life there would follow me home.

I am so relieved to find that this has not been the case. Being back home has been everything I longed for. Closer to family, closer to friends, able to communicate, sure of what to expect and able to seek out options and opportunities--we've found Lawton (often not considered a glamour spot in the Army) to be fantastic. That deserves extra emphasis: fantastic. The sun shines, the sky is so huge and blue--it seems to stretch eternally. We're in our own (rented) little home instead of a cramped apartment. We've found a church and I've joined the choir there and already met some wonderful new people. I'm excited about opportunities to take classes again.

I really didn't anticipate sitting down to write a post today. I had these pictures we'd taken the other day of Justin and Evie and looking at the ones of them playing outside just filled me with such joy. I've said it before, but I'll say it again: It is good to be home.

A short list.

These have been my favorite words here:

1. Schneeman ("snowman")
2. Bodenschwellen ("speed bumps")
3. Glan Münchweiler (proper noun, a town nearby)
4. Niedermohr (proper noun, another nearby town, meaning "low moor") --I like saying this one followed by an evil cackle: NEE-DER-MORE!!! MUAH AH AH AH!!!

and probably my most used phrase:

5. Ich spreche nur ein bisschen Deutsch. (I speak only a little German.)

Walking through the windmills

Speaking purely of the weather, today was perhaps the most beautiful day I've experienced here in Baumholder over the past (nearly) four years. It was not only sunny, but cloudless and the colors seemed brighter, more vibrant. Ever since stumbling across a user map on Google for a path through the windmills outside town I've been itching to go walk up there. It's easy to have reasons "not to go" in Baumholder--usually involving the weather, so when today was just about completely perfect, we hopped in the car and drove up to the path.

It's maybe slightly possible I'm feeling slightly sentimental about our leaving here. Don't get me wrong--I can't wait--but for all of the valleys we experienced here, it also has been a good time, and I don't regret the choice we made when we decided to come to Germany.

With some free time on our hands and not a lot of things around the house to distract, I've been working out a lot more lately. Today on our walk I had too much energy to just keep walking, so I traded Justin the stroller for the leash and took off with Choky down the path. Evie started to get concerned that I was running away, so I doubled back, which she thought was hilarious. After a time or two of this game--run away for 50 meters or so, sprint back--I could have stopped, but then Justin began spurring me on, so for about 20 minutes of the return "walk" I ran up and down hill with Chokydar.

Choky was having the time of her life, although it was clear from the run that she's a touch out of shape. She ventured into the weeds at one point and came out covered in burrs, which stuck to her fur like glue. Evie watched in awe as Justin picked them out, one by one before we got back in the car to come home.

It was a good day.

One Big Step Closer

For weeks now we've been making preparations for our move back to the states. This week, however, was a frenzied hurricane of activity as we got ready for most of our belongings to be packed and moved. You would think how complicated could it be? as we don't actually have to pack or move anything ourselves, and I'm sure for some (less anal) people, it may not be such an event. I figure the more organized we can be on this end, the smoother the packing will go, and likewise, the easier the unpacking will be on the other side.

When Thursday rolled around this week I could be found running around the house, making piles of our possessions based on room or function, or whatever other wacky way of classification that makes sense only to me. Things needed to be sorted into two very broad categories: staying or going. We have two packing dates, and the bulk of our items, including all major pieces of furniture were required to go this week. Our next pack date will be at the end of August, about a week and a half before we go ourselves, and at that time, all we'll be left with is what we'll carry with us on the plane. As I decided what things were necessary to our existence and pared things down to a reasonably small group of objects, I couldn't help but wonder how many of our belongings we could do without altogether. The task of disassembling, sorting, and grouping things was especially arduous because Evie was either napping (requiring QUIET organization) or wanting to "help," which, while very cute, isn't actually that helpful. She was very amused by the feather duster in particular.

The morning of the move, she and I were up and making final preparations by 6am. She then took a nap before they arrived around 8:30am. I did not nap. I paced around muttering to myself, unplugging appliances, making coffee for the packers. We had an especially fun moment that morning when Justin attempted to secure the front door behind him on his way out to pick up breakfast for everyone and the key snapped off in the lock.

This looks organized to you, right? Yeah...

We marked Evie's room as off-limits to the movers and filled it with everything that wasn't going with this shipment. It was filled with everything from tools to cleaning supplies to things to be mailed, clothes, things to be donated or sold, Chokydar's toys and kennel, diapering supplies, books, luggage...you get the idea.

The bathroom too was off-limits. We are not able to send any liquids, including lotion, perfume, detergent or cleaning supplies, so all of that was sent to stay in the bathroom. Oh, and a giant basket of laundry I hadn't gotten around to doing.

The packers were really quick about their work and did a good job. Thankfully the weather cooperated as well. Come lunch time everyone took a break and Justin went out to get lunch for everyone. When asked what they'd like (pizza, fried chicken, deli sandwiches, Taco Bell...) the movers responded excitedly "Taco Bell!" That amuses me rather a lot for some reason.

Originally we had scheduled the movers to come on Thursday and then to have the government owned furniture (the same stuff we had when we first got here--affectionately deemed the "Barney syphilis couches" because of their awful spotty purple upholstery) brought in on Friday, but the movers had to push back our date to Friday, which bumped our furniture delivery to Monday. This weekend then we're making due with impromtu horizontal surfaces on which to eat (i.e. boxes) and have two folding chairs in which to sit. To closer watch Evie while she played, I moved to the floor while I was messing on the computer. She proceeded to crawl over and create a new game--Mommy Is A Pony. She straddled the small of my back as I lay on the ground and giggled insanely as I called for help. Justin instead went for the camera. ;)

That's all for now. The typing is echoing in our cave of a place now and it's time for bed! It's been an exciting and exhausting couple of days, and more than ever it's hitting home that the move is real and that we're finally on our way.

Thanks, but no thanks

Oh those crazy Germans...

Okay, to follow up on last post; I took Evelyn in to the clinic yesterday to try and have her seen by a nurse. We were able to be seen, but the nurse wasn't much help. She basically wasn't willing to say that Evie didn't have jaundice (she said it didn't look like it to her)--she said we should be seen by a doctor. Sigh. She recommended that we go up to the patient liason office and go to the krankenhaus (German hospital) here in Baumholder. So we went.

I could make this a waaaay longer story than it needs to be, but I'll try to keep it relatively short. Just to give you a sense of the experience though, as I was in the moment I couldn't help but think to myself that I was experiencing a sensation I hadn't since I was a VERY small child--the sense of being herded around having people talk over you and not fully understanding what's going on. It wasn't a pleasant feeling at all, especially because I was trying to make an informed decision about the health of our child. Anyway, here's what happened:

The doctor looked like a cross between a German Colonel Sanders and the actor Michael York. He was dressed in snugly fitted white clothes from head to foot, including his shoes and belt; even hair was white. His English was certainly better than my German, but that's not saying much. He was VERY difficult to understand, and gave short, sharp directions like, "take her clothes off!" He had like, negative bedside manner. Evie was being brave, but he wasn't doing anything to try and keep her calm. When at one point she began to look as if she might cry, he shoved a woven basket full of candy at her. I'm talking little plastic packages (choking hazard) of sugar coated (!!!!) root beer flavored gummy candy (CHOKING HAZARD) at my nine month old infant. And I'm supposed to take his medical opinion seriously? He was losing points quickly. Evie stared at him teary eyed as if to say, "Dude, don't you know I'm a BABY? I don't eat candy..."

He asked me, "What's wrong with her?"
"Ummm, nothing really is wrong. She's just, kind of, orange. I wanted to make sure it's not jaundice and that everything's okay."
He looked at her, poked and podded a bit and said, "It's not jaundice."
Then he followed with, (I'm translating here, because his english was not this clear) "We will do blood work and ultrasound."

What?

She doesn't have jaundice, so you're going to do bloodwork and an ultrasound...I was seriously confused and thought I must have misunderstood him. I tried to clarify, but all I could get out of him was that he thought she needed extra testing. I couldn't understand why, but I'm not a doctor, and it's a bit daunting to decline when a doctor tells you you should have a test run on your child. I was NOT pleased that Evie would have to be put through extra stress, but we wandered up stairs to have the blood work done.

Did I say I was going to try and keep this brief? Ooops...

Neither the blood work lady or the ultrasound technician spoke english. At all. The lady babbled on and ON in German to Evelyn, obviously smitten with her, and Evie didn't seem to mind. I have to say, it kind of creeped me out though; she was a bit scary. The ultrasound guy understood me when I said "orange." I'm not sure he fully understood why we were getting an ultrasound either. He showed me her stomach, her kidneys, her liver--all were present and accounted for, and looked normal (surprise, surprise...). But wait! Where's her gallbladder? Hmmmm

He couldn't find it. DoctorColonelMichaelYorkSanderstein was called in to try and find it. Why are we even looking for her gallbladder??? The doctor found it, but exclaimed that it was contracted because she had a full tummy. (She hadn't eaten in about 4 hours.) He tells me, "Come back tomorrow at 9 in the morning. Don't feed her." Oh, and at this point he also says, "Do you feed her....(he turns to try and find the word from his non-english speaking assistant)...carrots?"

"Yes," I replied, "That's what I sort of thought it was from the beginning..."

"Stop feeding her carrots. Don't do that anymore."

...

He was already walking out of the room when I protested the summons to come back the next day. "She wakes between 5 and 7 and is HUNGRY. Why does she need to be seen again? What is the problem? Can we be seen earlier if it's necessary?"

"No, we don't come in until 9. Don't feed her." He leaves.

I was totally frustrated, confused, and at a loss. Why was I even doing all of this? THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH EVELYN, except that she sort of looks like she's eaten too many Oompa Loompas.

I called the patient liason office when we got home and tried to explain my frustration and ask for help. They said they'd call over and see what the doctor was concerned about and if it was necessary for me to go in again.

They called back to tell me he'd already gone home. They said he's probably just checking to make sure she doesn't have any other problems and that it should be alright to let her eat a little when she first wakes up before we go in. Sigh. In the back of my head I KNEW that it was just SILLY to go in again, but he'd made it seem so important to see her gallbladder, I couldn't help but have this fear--what if there IS something wrong with her gallbladder and I don't have her checked and something happens to her? So we went this morning and had a SECOND ultrasound.

When I first saw the doc this morning he looks at me as if he'd never seen us before and asked, "So what's wrong with her?"

I stared at him for a minute, like, "you're kidding, right?"

"Ummmmm....Nothing's wrong with her...she's orange. You said to come back so you could check her gallbladder..."

"Of course nothing's wrong with her. Of course I remember. Take off her clothes."

He poked her some more and said, "It's just orange here in her face."

"Ummmm..." I said, "I see it all over, really."

"Yes of course."

?!?!?!?!

(Have I mentioned lately how much I can't wait to get back to America?)

Ok, now this officially isn't just not brief, it's probably much longer than most regular posts...

So during 9 month old infant's SECOND ultrasound, he finds her gallbladder, and SURPRISE! it's totally normal. He sees her stomach full of liquid on the monitor and says, "You fed her."

"You caught me," I said, loathing him.

"She has a full bladder. Let's do a urine test."

WHAT?!?!?!!?!?! WHY?

"Why?"

"To check."

"Wait, do you think anything is wrong with her or are you just doing this because you think I want you to? If it's not jaundice and everything looks okay, I'm fine. She acts normally. She's happy and healthy. She's just orange. Her urine looks normal. Her poop is normal. Why do you need to get a urine sample?"

"Come to my office. To check." He walked out of the room.

I dressed Evelyn and told her we were leaving. I poked my head in the room and told him, "You know, I think we're just going to go. I don't think she needs a urine test." (How do you get a 9 month old girl to pee in a cup anyway?? It's hard enough when I have to do it...) He looked at me all concerned and confused with the little platic cup in his hand and was like, "But the urine test!"

"Yeah, I feel comfortable that she's okay. Thanks, though."

"Why don't you take it with you. Take it with you and when you get the chance, have her go in it and then you can bring it back."

I am not even kidding you.

I nearly refused, but I thought it would just be simpler to take the cup and go. Plus, I thought, I can take a picture of the urine sample cup we're NOT going to pee in and post it on tomatobear.




So, Evelyn is apparently fine. Just a little orange.

And then I'm done. For real. For now...

I'm in a listy mood.

First of all, thanks to all of you guys who sent encouragement and happy thougts my way after my little meltdown earlier this week. I try to keep things in perspective--I know that I am INCREDIBLY lucky and blessed and really do not have the right to complain. I know sometimes it must seem, well, really annoying. "Oh, poor Michele. Stuck living in Europe. Waaaaaa." I think I've become increasingly negative about certain aspects of life here over the past few years, and that is not the person I want to be. I have more thoughts on this subject, but will save them for another post, as this one is already getting pretty long and it's quite late.

That being said, I still do have stuff to complain about, and I'd like to get it off my chest. Just because I don't like the way I feel doesn't stop me from feeling that way.

***Disclaimer: Not all of these things are Germany's fault. Some of them are Army specific, living on post specific, and all of them are me specific. I'd like to reiterate, despite my "I hate Baumholder" diatribes, it's not a terrible place--I'm just tired of living here. For me, Europe is for vacations not life. The list is in no particular order. Without further ado...

THINGS I WON'T MISS ABOUT LIVING IN GERMANY:

1. THE WEATHER.
2. Many of the people--albeit here I am mostly referring to Americans (Ahem, for instance, Rude Mail Room Guy, Grouchy Car Inspection Dude, Nasty Neighbor Woman, Passive Agressive Mystery Neighbor Person, I could go on and on and on...)
3. The general attitude and atmosphere. NEG-A-TIVE. (I know, I know. Look at me not helping, right?)
4. The toilet paper holders.
5. The toilet flushing mechanisms.
6. Having to pay to use a public toilet.
7. Having to pay inside at the gas station.
8. Messing with currency exchange.
9. The crappy exchange rate.
10. VAT forms.
11. DEUTSCHTELECOM (TKS).
12. Not speaking the language.
13. The laughable idea of "customer service."
14. The 6/7 hour time difference between here and friends and family.
15. Having to pay "International direct dialing rates" for 800 numbers.
16. Having to convert to the metric system. I know it makes more sense, but my mind just doesn't think in those terms.
17. Living on post.
18. Living in an apartment.
19. Not having any studs into which things can be nailed. There's about a half inch of plaster before you hit solid concrete, or something equally impervious. It's been a royal pain trying to hang things.
20. The fishbowl feel of the community--the fact that EVERYONE knows your buisness...what you order online, what you buy for groceries, how often your dog poops and when you leave the house...
21. Not having screens on the windows. I've become accustomed to not having air conditioning and actually like having fresh air circulate. Not having screens is a problem, though. Once I heard a girl convey a story about asking a German why they don't have window screens. His earnest reply? "But with screens...how would the bugs get out?"
22. The radiators in our apartment. They have a mind of their own. The temperature can be constant outside and the dial set to the same place yet one day the setting is fine, the next we're burning up. The dial ranges from "snowflake" (a symbol) to 0-5. What the hell does "snowflake" mean???
23. AFN (Armed Forces Network--the American television programming available here). We don't even watch TV here, but I miss "real" commercials.
24. The mailroom. The idea that a mail man might actually deliver my mail TO ME at our place of residence is so magical, I can't even begin to describe it to you.
25. The commissary.
26. Having to drive 45 minutes to get to ANYTHING.
27. Not being able to use FedEx or UPS. I can't tell you how many times I've been disappointed by "Sorry, no shipment to APOs."
28. German pastries and cakes. I want my sweets to be...well, sweet. Theirs aren't.
29. Having to be in constant "vacation mode." Do you know that feeling when you're in unfamiliar territory? The extra effort you have to put forward to finding things, always having everything be new and unexplored? It's exhausting to be in "vacation mode" for 3.5 years. When we take trips here, I sometimes feel like I'm vacationing while on a vacation--like I'm taking the life raft I live on in my river out onto the ocean.
30. European sized things. Everything is small, from the dishwasher to furniture to parking spaces and roads. I will not miss "two lane" roads that, in fact, are actually not even big enough to be one full lane.
31. How often I am denied access to things online (like streaming media and certain downloads) because I'm "Outside the U.S."
32. Randomly having web pages I frequent switch everything to German language defaults.

I may think of more and tack them on in subsequent posts.

And, in fairness, I would also like to list...

THINGS I WILL MISS ABOUT LIVING IN GERMANY:

1. The autobahn. Although I have gotten two speeding tickets (yes, you read that right), I do love the laid back feel and general not-traffic-y-ness of the autobahn.
2. Ordering out from Portofino's. Especially their pizzas and Jagerschnitzel.
3. Being so close to Belgium. I love Belgium.
4. The proximity to so much art, history, culture and architecture. Just wow.
5. The "tilt" option on the (screenless-boo) windows.
6. The deli sandwiches from the commissary.
7. The cheese streudel muffins from the commissary.
8. Super cheap, delicious, and ubiquitous local wines.
9. The yellow flowers that cover the countryside in summer.
10. This specific lone tree on a hill top as you approach Baumholder from the east.
11. Julia's Mickey Mouse tree.
12. Christmas markets.
13. Bernkastel Kues. I love that town.
14. This specific view of a valley off to the left as you cross a bridge going towards Kaiserslautern. Breathtaking.
15. The windmills.
16. The really awesome people I have met here.

Again, I will add to this list as well as things occur to me.

February 2006- Aachen

Okay, these are from 2006 as well. We were rushing to squeeze in as many trips as we could before Justin deployed, and on one long weekend we drove up to Aachen, Germany and then over into Belgium to Brussels. These pictures are all from Aachen. The Palatine Chapel there is a major building in art history and was something of a personal mecca for me. I'd really loved studying it and it was so exciting to get to see it first hand.

So much of travel for me is about the art/architecture and the food. I've really always known this about myself, but it's fun to see it so clearly in the things I photograph too...

Rosen Montag- February 2006

Okay, yes I know it's March. I'm super happy about that, but I still have about a bazillion pictures from our travels over the last three years, so for the moment, I'm still stuck in February. Hopefully I can get them up in a timely fashion...

These couple of pictures are from my first trip after Justin deployed (the fisrt time, back in Feb 2006). I was determined to not sit around and mope, so I printed some mapquest directions, bundled up and headed for Koln/Cologne (depending on who's spelling it) for their Rosenmontag celebration and parade. On Rosenmontag, people dress up in costumes--sort of like Halloween, but goofier, not scary really. I'd heard it was supposed to be a real lively event and I was a bit nervous navigating my way there solo.




I got there all right, but the trip was rather a bust. It's about a 3 hour drive one way up there, and because I'd heard to allow extra time to find parking, etc. I left WAY early and ending up arriving WAY earlier than expected. Without Justin to check my sanity, I'd worn not my heaviest winter coat (ideal for standing outside for hours on end) but my little wool coat and regular shoes--not even boots. Silly me. Anyway, I waited in the snow and FREEZING cold for about 3 hours before giving up, having only taken a couple of pictures, mostly of myself (LOL) waiting for the parade. It was depressing being there alone, despite my best efforts to be proactive about my solitude.


There's a story behind the bear picture...That's West Point Bear, one of the first gifts Justin ever gave me on one of our first ever dates when I made the trek up to West Point. I'd gotten the idea to do a Flat Stanley sort of thing with West Point Bear, taking him with me and photographing him in lieu of Justin for all of the places I visited while Justin was deployed.

I remember while I stood waiting forever for the parade there was a bizarre moment when the parade music coming over the loud speakers switched from Euro-techno to Sweet Home Alabama. I just found that pretty amusing.

Look at me, falling behind...

Ok, my great plans to document our past trips each month didn't make it past month #2. I'm going to try and catch up. Here's the rest from our trip in Garmisch, January 2007:












I remember as we drove home we saw maybe a dozen hot air balloons. I've always thought it would be neat to go up in one (although I probably would think otherwise while up in the air). Justin, on the other hand, was adamantly against the idea.