true life: i'm living in house denial

Repeat after me: what boxes?

Or bags or piles or suitcases busting at the seams, for that matter.

It has officially been 26 days since we spent the first night in our wonderful new home. And because of Jesus' grace and four wonderful parents, the only things we have to show for it is an organized kitchen, curtains, and an installed washer and dryer set. I did manage to put our duvet inside our duvet cover. That was day 25.

Since we moved in, we've been to Alabama for my precious Anna's first birthday party and dove into wedding season with two flowering weeks in a row. That is not a complaint. Just how I remind myself that it's excusable that our life is still in boxes.

I mean...what boxes?

Our hilariously long project list looked like it could be accomplished in a couple of weekends. Now I'm shooting for 2015ish. A full day to unpack the entire upstairs? Try just our closet. A few hours to build and paint a dining room table? Try 48. So instead of living in the house that has been picture-perfect in my mind for the last eight months, I'm happily living in house denial.

We all know I have plans to post pictures of a deceivingly clean house after I get rid of all those cardboard things in a cube shape that hold all my junk. So for the sake of full disclosure and a little kumbaya-let's-all-live-together-in-hilariously-real-honesty, I give you the before:

Piles of fuzz balls: courtesy of our rug in that new rug molting stage // A very naked fireplace: desperately awaiting a mantel // That lovely gold chair: saying "pleeeeease recover me" // Leftover wedding flowers: perks from my dream job

New dining room table: built by D of which I am obnoxiously proud // Lowe's sacks: full of our life savings (home ownership is expensive, y'all) // Carbon monoxide detector: a very necessary purchase in the mind of my engineer // Piles of other crap: standard these days

A fairly normal looking kitchen (including lined cabinets): only possible because of my two life-saving moms // Orangey wood stools: needing paint - STAT // More piles: still standard

The beloved window seat: currently containing every piece of art/wall hanging I own. And a lamp. And some trash cans. // More of those cardboard things: what boxes?

Stairwell collage: my one and only project thus far // Empty frames: please ignore

Christmas tree stand: attic-bound // Boxes (what boxes?): previously organized but have since been the victims of rummaging // Iron: not used since we've moved

Three sad-looking rooms: waiting to be decorated // Piles of clean laundry: in need of folding (any volunteers?) // Boob light: the last one left after my builder-grade light mass wipe out

Curtains: in desperate need of a meeting with the steamer // Headboard: in desperate need of another  coat of paint // Dried wedding bouquet: the only thing that I'm crazy protective over while moving // The pile of bullet boxes and a gun cleaning kit (not pictured): no longer a surprising find on D's bedside table  

Suitcases: those are the "busting at the seams" ones // New light: looks much smaller in pictures // The heaviest TV there ever was: D's from college and in need of a piece of furniture to house it (since he won't let me put it by the side of the road) // Corner pile: yet another "maybe for a garage sale but just get it out of my freaking house" pile

Color coordinated clothes: this is what I did with the rest of day 25 // Tools: my mess that I didn't clean up after adding fabric drawer pulls // Shoe rack: the greatest Bed Bath and Beyond purchase ever

There she is in all her fuzz ball, dusty, pile-filled, mid-project beauty. Here's to hoping I'm not the only one. If you need me, I'll be unpacking something, somewhere, for the next year and a half.