Boxes, Boxes, Everywhere!

Our crate finally arrived!  Now there are comfortable chairs and couches to sit in.  Now I have my bed with a much more comfortable mattress (Sorry to our guests when they come to visit.  The mattresses that you can buy here are what they are.)  Now I have more than just a few shirts and pants.

The crate. We did get a 40 foot one, but it was not full.  The Budget rental truck that left our house was significantly smaller.

They didn't use a single ramp to unload.  Pretty sure that might break work codes in the US.

When the crate arrived, I showed the guys where all the rooms were.  As they unpacked, they asked questions about some room such as “Where is the game room?”  Oh that?  Leave it down here in the living room.  As the unpacking continued, they asked fewer questions.  This isn’t necessarily a good thing.  It meant that too many items were taken all the way upstairs to the office.  It meant that some boxes were randomly placed in the kitchen and the boys’ room when they have nothing to do with either.

As more things were carried in, I found myself thinking, “I thought we got rid of stuff before we left!?!”  There were so many boxes!  And it just didn’t end.  It hasn’t ended.  We are on day 4 or so of unpacking.  They are still everywhere!

Boxes piled high in the kitchen.

All the living room items.  Look at the wrapped up couches!

Master bedroom before any unpacking.  On the right is my beloved mattress.

Boys' room before unpacking.

The first day, Stephen and I focused on unpacking the kitchen while the guys carried in everything else.  There was quite a bit considering my last kitchen was a little on the small side.  I found myself asking, “Why do we have so many coffee cups?  We don’t drink coffee!” And “Where did these glasses come from?” And “Doesn’t everyone own 20 different sets of glasses?”  Seriously, I just started laughing as we’d find more cups, glasses, and coffee mugs.  If I hadn’t laughed, I might have cried.  What we didn’t find:  The majority of our everyday plates and bowls.  Four days later and they are still missing!

An entire side of cabinets taken up with cups and mugs and glasses.  Side note:  we have wine glasses in a dry country.

I was then told they wouldn’t unpack clothes, so I should work on that.  I was frantically trying to unpack wardrobe boxes as quickly as I could.  I kept finding more jackets and coats which made me ask, “Why do we have 40 jackets in the desert?”  I counted, and I think I did in fact count around 36.  Thirty-six jackets to use for the occasional vacation to colder climates.  I’m pretty sure a maximum of 2 jackets per person would have sufficed for a cold weather vacation.

Just some of the jackets.  They didn't all fit hanging in the wardrobe!

Our clothes spread out in the bedroom.  This is what happens when you go from a giant walk in closet with his and hers sides to a single wardrobe.

The above mentioned single wardrobe.  I now have a box of hangers because so many clothes need to be folded and put elsewhere.

As I’m hurrying through boxes, I realized it was quiet.  I went downstairs to ask Stephen why it was so quiet.  He said the guys had left.  I asked if they were coming back the next day.  He said no that we were to call them to pick up boxes later.  What???  I was told that our moving contract included unpacking.  And I was told not just the furniture but everything.  To say I’m disappointed in the lack of unpacking is an understatement.  I’m irritated in the lack of information shared.  I’m disappointed in a lack of response from the moving company contact about what they were and were not supposed to do.  I’m frustrated with all the boxes everywhere.  I’m going crazy over the clutter everywhere.  Frankly, I’m a little mad over the whole situation.

Let’s just stop so I can explain a bit about myself.  I don’t handle clutter well.  It makes me crazy and makes it hard for me to concentrate.  A writer I’ve read and listen to on a podcast, Gretchen Rubin, says, “Outer order contributes to inner calm.”  It feels like it more than contributes in my case.  It is a necessity.  And outer chaos contributes to inner anxiety for me.

As I write this, I’m taking a break from unpacking.  I have to.  I nearly got onto Stephen for random cords being placed in a corner they had no business being in.  I just yelled at the boys for the lack of progress in organizing their Legos.  It frustrates me that I had to practically hold their hands and tell them step by step what to do.  Telling them things like, “I don’t want Legos on the floor anymore” meant nothing to them.  Telling them, “We need to clean up these Lego instructions” just meant that they were sorted by type into piles all over the floor.  Not exactly what I imagined.  I’m hoping they were put into a box while I’ve been gone.

I suppose I should end my self-emposed exile.  The boxes won’t unpack themselves.  And apparently nobody will come back in a timely fashion to unpack them for me.