So we are slowly trying to get settled. Our household goods finally made it about a week and a half ago, which seemed like one of the happiest days of our lives. To sit in a plush couch and to sink into our pillow-top mattress again was pure heaven. Being without definitely reminds us how blessed we are to actually have those things.
If I’m being perfectly honest, moving in is always very overwhelming for me. You see, in my small bubble of a world everything has a place. Having random clutter hanging around the house stresses me out. I mean, I can handle some stuff here and there but when piles begin accumulating…no good. Any other person’s house, no big deal; I truly don’t even notice it. But having lots of stuff out of place in my house makes my palms sweat. I get the jitters. I get a ‘tude. It’s ugly. And it gets worse with every birthday. My hubs is so lucky!
But I had high hopes for this moving-in process. I would get it all done in two weeks. I’d get everything out of the boxes then put it all away. 14 days. Done.
HA! Had you going there, didn’t I?
Two weeks?!?! HAHA! What a crock.
Truth is, moving in in a foreign country takes a little bit of extra time. Moving in in a foreign country with an infant takes a lot of extra time. Examples:
-Desperate for lighting other than the ceiling lights (I hate ceiling lights!) I plug my lamps in to converters but the lightbulbs are 120 Volt, so I have to wait and get 220 from the store. Go to said store buy some, but they are the wrong size because IKEA makes lamps with the weirdest bulb sizes ever. Wait to go back to the store.
-Want to get pictures up on the wall instead of constantly staring at them stacked on the floor. Check for a hammer, but can’t find it. Swore I packed it in the toolkit I sent with our unaccompanied baggage, but it is nowhere to be found. Boxes of tools are somewhere among twenty-something more boxes we have yet to go through in the storage room. Go to BX and buy a new hammer. We now own three hammers.
-Reposition baby so he isn’t eating a piece of packing tape off of the floor.
-Want to get the dining room/play area done to get all of the toys out of the living room, but had to put all of the boxes and packing paper in that corner. Stack won’t go away until we make an appointment for the packers to come take them away. Toys keep hanging out in the living room.
-Go to organize the ‘closet room’ (one room with all of our wardrobes inside) and realize that all of my clothes won’t fit. Start purging for the second time. After the clothes destined for storage have made a nice pile, realize that I need a box from the above stack to put them in. Try three times to pull a box from the stack. Give up and watch The Cosby Show reruns.
-Realize there is no reason we should’ve brought 5,283 extra hangers, then thank the Lord we got a house with a storage room. But can’t put them or anything else in storage until the 25 boxes in storage have been gone through. Haven’t gone through them yet because I am tired of unpacking boxes.
-Reposition baby because he has scooted into the hall with eyes set on the stairwell (still need to find an appropriate baby gate). He screams so I close the windows as not to annoy the neighbors. Put him in front of toys, still screams. Put him in jumper. Score!
-Buy a new firewood rack; excited to put it up. Get it put together. Forgot that furnaces here are small, thus:
-Realize baby has to eat.
-Take 6 hours a day off of packing for baby to nap.
-Open yet another box of loosely twisted up cables that I have no idea what they connect to. Count to ten. Slide yet another box of stuff I can’t fully unpack against the wall.
-Reposition baby since he thinks the dog’s tail is a chew toy. Baby then goes for the dog’s bone. Close the windows again.
And the list goes on and on. Little, random things that must get done for me to finally consider us ‘settled in’. But progress is getting made. To go from this: