After almost two months apart, yesterday we were reunited with our household goods!
The packing process was so easy (eerily easy – I just sat there and watched the movers put all my stuff in boxes. Bam! Done!) that I feared the unpacking process would be horrible. We got a call a few days back that the movers would come by and drop everything off on Monday. It worked out perfectly since Stephen had the day off. Around 9 am yesterday, the truck rolled up.
After a few happy dances, it was time to get serious. The movers took care of opening all the crates (when you move overseas, they put all your boxes into giant crates before sending it across the ocean) and carrying the boxes into our house. They’d call out the number on the box, which I checked off my little listy to note that it was accounted for. Then we’d tell them which room we wanted the box taken to.
Seems easy. And it mostly was. Except for the fact that in some cases, we weren’t sure where the box should go. Books? Stephen said upstairs. I said downstairs. A box labeled “bed” on our inventory sheet went upstairs to our bedroom. Then we realized it wasn’t really the bed, and Stephen had to carry it back downstairs.
After two hours of work time, the movers were done and off to their next job. We were left with piles and piles of boxes.
Ahhh! Where to start?! I requested that we build our bed first. (I really did not want to sleep on the Army-supplied bed anymore.) So we gots-a-building.
Stephen did a fantastic job of putting it together, and I happen to think that I made a solid assistant. I was a little scared to get on the bed. (Could something we built actually hold our body weight?) All that worry for nothing. The bed is heavenly! As we were laying in it last night, I told Stephen, “It feels like a pillow.” I know that’s not a particularly good metaphor, but it’s just so darn soft, like a pillow!
For the next phase of the unpacking process, we had a divide and conqure approach. Stephen built an Ikea bookshelf and tv stand, while I unpacked our 7, yes 7!, kitchen boxes. The mover saw how many kitchen boxes we had and asked how many kids we had. Upon hearing that we had none, he told Stephen, “Oh. Your wife must really love to cook.” Ha. Turns out, we just have a ton of stuff. Too much!
How many mugs does one couple need? I think we have about 60. And we don’t even drink coffee! Other things we have too many of: tupperware containers, cups, bowls, and spices.
After spending the last 2 months with only 5 plates, I realize that I really don’t need 8. In fact, I really don’t need nearly as much stuff as I once thought. Sure, some things I am ecstatic to be reunited with (my vitamix, our crockpot, out couches), but I just don’t need nearly as much stuff as I have. I don’t need it. I can live with less. In fact, I prefer having less, living in a less cluttered house, keeping things simple.
There’s still a ton of work to do. (Boxes, packing paper, and belongings are strewn everywhere! I haven’t even touched the boxes that have my clothes yet.) And go figure, we’ve invited people over for a party on Friday. I guess that makes Friday the unpacking deadline! Better get back to work!
Any tips to make unpacking less sucky? Do you have too much stuff? Is this an American thing or an Amy thing?*