Tag Archives: unpacking


move in kitchen

The surface of the island disappeared before even half the kitchen boxes were unpacked.

We’re not.  But we’re getting closer.

Unpacking boxes can be a delight — it’s been so nice to open a box and find something I’d been needing, wanting, looking for.  Or to unwrap something and find family photos and my favorite coffee mug. 

But unpacking can also be a total drag.  Although we purged and cleaned out and got rid of stuff before we moved, we’re still opening boxes and wondering why we brought certain things.  How we weren’t a little more merciless when it came to getting rid of crap.  And why, exactly, the packers who boxed up our stuff wrapped empty rolls of tape and broken crayons up and shipped them across the Atlantic.  I mean, yes, technically those things were in my house.  But they were trash.  I thought, clearly, they were trash.  But I unpacked them here and deposited them into the British trash in a lovely waste of time and money.

stacked boxes

Boxes stacked LITERALLY to the ceiling.

Some rooms we’ve been able to set up and decorate and have done pretty quickly.  Those are the places I gravitate to when I’m feeling overwhelmed by the remaining boxes.  Sitting in a mostly furnished and decorated room feels like progress.  Bonus if the remaining stacks of boxes piled in the hallway are strategically out of sight.

living room view 1

A single room that feels done makes a world of difference in my ability to deal with the UN-done rooms.

The kids’ bedrooms were a priority — in the utter chaos that was our house for the first three or four days after the furniture arrived, those bedrooms were a haven to escape to, and not just for the children.  Having their spaces unpacked and settled in signaled that we, in turn, are settled in.  Home is where the heart is, but it’s also where the piles of unpacked moving boxes aren’t.

We’ve done a pretty good job, I think.  Of course, the final few boxes are going to be the death of me: filled with the last dregs of things we don’t know where to put, we don’t really want to sort through, and we can’t really get rid of.  They suck.  I’ll feel triumphant when they’ve been dealt with; I just need a few days breather to work up the energy to finish them off.

Eventually–SOON–all the mess and confusion of unpacking will be a memory.  This house will feel like our home, and I can stop being irritated by the piles of boxes and packing paper and go back to being irritated about my normal, everyday chores — laundry and dishes and cooking and cleaning.  And all will be well in my little world.

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