Day 24.

The air still reeks of polyurethane, paint, and clear packing tape.

Base camp in all its cardboard glory has been permanently moved to a new forward operating base—otherwise known as our first home—but not before we took on significant DIY projects to improve upon the previous owners’ . . . ehem . . .interesting choice in décor. (Mud brown, cobalt blue, lime green, bright pink, Christmas red, and contents-of-a-diaper greenish brown. I kid you not.) Plus we decided we didn’t like the cabinets or counter tops, but didn’t want (scratch that—couldn’t) to stretch the budget to buy new ones.

By the way, DIY (Do It Yourself) is code for “way-more-labor-intensive-and-more-expensive-than-you-thought-but-still-way-cheaper-than-paying-some-dude-to-do-it-for-you.” I’ve come to the conclusion that we came pretty close to a professional-grade job on our home, and that hiring someone to do it or paying for pre-made items like cabinetry would have only served to save my sanity. That said, DIY means it has our personal touch. We can say WE did it! Plus we get the pleasure of knowing we won’t have to declare bankruptcy because we chose to have our cabinets professionally done instead of say, paying for my student loans, or our car. There’s also our insatiable need to eat and shower, too, so paying the water, electricity, and food bills is a nice convenience we get to keep since we went the DIY route. Incidentally, Rustoleum Cabinet/Countertop Transformations are my new best friends. Seriously amazing, and well worth the effort. Not sure? Take a look:

Long story short— in case my faithful followers have been wondering where in heaven’s name I’ve been these past few weeks . . .ta-da!

Over the last 24 days we closed on a home, packed up the old place, took on a few of those “we’ll knock it out in a weekend ha ha” DIY projects, and moved in this past Saturday. (And not being able to write has been slowly and painfully killing me. Literally.)

Martha Stewart and her beautifully written checklists make moving into one’s first home seem like a veritable walk in the park.

If only.

Several days and a few pounds later ( because let’s be honest—moving inevitably means you’ll be frequenting the area fast food shops and skipping the gym) I’m still staring a relatively large sea of brown cardboard neatly taped and marked. Ok, not so neatly marked in all cases, considering some of these boxes have been through not one, but three or four moves with the family. There’s actually quite the story written on those boxes. From a younger sibling’s attempt at spelling out the contents of that box, to my mother’s beautiful handwriting, it’s actually a fun walk down memory lane!

Back to business though— all this rigmarole begs the question: how do two people and one small Chihuahua manage to accumulate so much STUFF!?!?!

Who knows. All I know is that I now have to spend the next few weeks unpacking it. Sigh. For those who grew up (or whose kids grew up) on Veggie Tales, doubtless you’ll remember Madame Blueberry and “Stuff Mart.” She’s got nothin’ on me and my piles.

All snarkiness aside, we are deeply thankful for this most exciting blessing—our first home!

I have to thank those who helped us that day. From two positively scrumptious meals my mother prepared for us on moving day, to the packing expertise of a few friends; from my father’s calming “Don’t worry! We’ll make it happen;” to the refreshments provided by another set of friends . . . we couldn’t have done it without you. What a dear blessing you all are to us! To our coworkers who pitched in on gift cards to home improvement stores—WOW! We are so grateful to work with such giving, caring people.

Soon, very soon, I will be able to crawl out from under the stack ‘o stuff and start blogging for real again. That is, if I can resist the temptation to say “Meh . . . we’ll get to it another day!’

Oh cardboard boxes, I will beat you yet!