Thirteen Months Later

Last June we packed up our small home and moved just a few miles away to a much larger, more comfortable house for our family of four. We unpacked the necessities quickly, as we had many family members offer to help organize and watch our children. We filled the rooms easily and had the luxury of a huge basement to house any extras.

Throughout the past year, however, I’ve found myself getting so overwhelmed and frustrated because a large quantity of our belongings still remained in the moving boxes in the basement. I was still lifting rubbermaid totes to find everything from books, movies, and construction paper. We had created a nice workout space in one side of our basement, but the other three quarters was a disarray of stacked moving boxes, totes, and garbage bags.

Finally, I had enough and came up with some organizational solutions for all of our junk. We ordered cabinets and shelving, and then we carved out a day where my parents could watch the kids. Three additional cabinets, two extra shelving units, and countless broken down moving boxes later, the basement became a totally functional space. We had a special place for all crafting materials, spillover kitchen items, and sporting goods. I even made a great work space out of an old stainless steel kitchen table and chairs from my late grandparents. The girls have a nice area to play, and now their toys are organized. Even though our basement is unfinished, it’s nice and livable.

There’s only one problem.

I still can’t find certain things from the move. We’ve lost tennis rackets and other personal items, which I’m sure is normal. It’s just difficult for me to let go of the desire to search for them until I find them. Also, we still have two more closets of items in their boxes, which leaves this itch for more organizing. I’m trying so hard to pace myself. Unpacking and the subsequent organization is time consuming and expensive–especially if new furniture is needed to accommodate the items in their new spaces. It’s been over a year now, and I’m impatient. Then I remember the stacks of boxes that remained in my parents’ house for years after we moved when I was a child.

I wonder, how long does it truly take to move into a new space for everyone?