The desk has left the building

Trying to stay organized while gradually moving into one house and out of another while also trying to keep the house we're moving out of in some sort of livable fashion and the new house from melting into a puddle of chaos is challenging.

You follow that? We're talking full-on shaking with frustration over everything kind of challenge over here in Naked Baby Land. 

But maybe that frustration is a sign of making headway? Or I'm just an asshole who wants everyone to check my list before they touch/move/breathe on anything in their personal space.


I'm starting to feel more settled as I move things from our current home to the enclosed trailer we've been lent - and has taken up residence in my backyard - but actually being settled is going to be the key to calming this mother down. Wine would also help.

In the land of "Don't touch that!" I've actually gotten some of the larger things out of the way, so smile with me as we go through these minor accomplishments:

You'll never see this piece of furniture this clean ever again.

My giant desk is in the trailer. In its current state, it's the cleanest it has ever been. The very day I moved it into our house, it was covered with everything from PartyLite candle holders to my computer and mass amounts of notepads. Today will go down in history as Desk Day.

The dining room table leaves and two of the chairs are in the trailer. Who knows when the other four chairs and the actual table will join forces and move to the dark side.

Boy Wonder's office chair ... you guessed it. It's in the trailer. It's been regularly used to store my winter jackets and a half-bushel basket I forgot my mom gave me. Good thing I found it now since my tomatoes are finally starting to turn red(ish orange).

I put two electric heaters in there a while ago, and last weekend I added a Christmas tree to the bunch.

Throughout the week when I go over to clean and prep, I've taken loads of various household items over to Future Home and attempt to unpack things to save myself the headache of having a gazillion boxes by the time we're done doing this moving thing. Of course, I always plan to clean like a maniac while I'm there, but really I spend half my time begging the kids not to play on the stairs (because toting a baby gate back and forth is for sissies) and the other half I spend firmly rooted in the center of a room wondering, once again, what I've gotten myself into. And then I scrub something and feel better.

Sometimes.

The other day I dragged my mom over with me and we tackled my husband's childhood/adolescent/teenager/college boy bedroom with antique white paint. By the time the second coat of white was going on, the room was bright and cheerful as opposed to dark (two of the walls were painted dark blue) and somewhat depressing, especially to someone who already feels generally overwhelmed by everything. Soon, I'll get some color on there - a little painter's tape and pastels should do the trick - and it'll be ready for my little big girl to move in.

I should probably figure out what color to do Charlie's bedroom, and the master bedroom really could use a fresh coat of paint in a color that is more me and him. And if I'm going to do this my way, then I need to find those colors soon since I still have half a flower bed to attack, rhubarb to transplant and bulbs to get in the ground before autumn settles over the region.

Regardless of paint swatches and changing seasons, we're getting there. I'm not ready to take the leap and move everything over there tomorrow, but within the next week, I'll be OK with some of the larger furniture going over - namely the desk, office chair and some bookshelves - shelves that are still filled with books and photo albums and baby blankets and whatever else we've managed to shove in the open spaces over the years between my massive cleaning sprees.

Looks like I may need to get more boxes after all.