Saturday Splendor, Mania a la Carte

Operation: MOVE EVERYONE OUT AND INTO HIS/HER OWN ROOM is complete, and we did a damned fine job, even by Moxie standards. I have to tip my hat to Todd, who tackled the two things I despise: Shampooing the every inch of carpet in the house, and disassembling the fucking bunk beds, which nearly killed me. (See yesterday's post for a more detailed description of the various debacles and triumphs of the move.) I was amped up and then some, Mach 10 at least. 9am-1am of straight ass-kicking labour, interspersed with deep cleaning, when I got pinned into the kitchen by mattresses and trapped elsewhere by assorted furniture, sailing through the house like flotsam waiting to be washed ashore.

In between breaking my neck thinking I could take the beds apart by sitting on the bottom and pushing the top one off with my head, which nearly caved in, taking the hinges off every door, moving three beds, dressers, 2,489 lb. Rubbermaid Lego drawers, and making peace with this sectional, which is one c***sucking inch too long to fit snugly and thus, takes up the entire living room. I pouted about this like a recalcitrant child, refusing to acknowledge it, and scoffing at all reason.

"So what if it comes out a foot farther? What were you going to do in this living room, play Twister?" Debe asked. This made total sense and I got over it. Well, like 75% over it.

So in the midst of this consumerism implosion, I managed to:

-Wash EVERYTHING washable in the entire house, including bleaching all whites, clothes to be consigned, clothes to hand down, ALL bedding, EVERY blanket, coats, stuffed animals, bedding to be stored, purses and backpacks for the garage sale, and BATH MATS. (!!!)

-Bleach sinks.

-Keep all dishes washed.

-Gather and curse four MILLION bobby pins. These can be found in the hinge of the dryer, all of Reilly's pockets, my pockets, on every surface, on the porch, in the sink, but absolutely NEVER fucking in your purse when you desperately need one. Never.

-Same with hair bands.

-Windexed mirrors and windows.

-Emptied garbage and all wastebaskets in addition to the three garbage bags we filled and tossed. This is the most amazing thing ever.

-Dusted everything that was relocating, which was everything.

-Organize main bookshelf.

-Wipe down floor lamps.

-Hang clean hand towels in kitchen and bathroom.

-Sweep and sweep and sweep and sweep...and sweep.

-Tidy up garage sale heap to be carried out.

-Did not throw a string onto the passenger floor of Debe's new car.

-Scrubbed back bathroom, hands and knees, baseboard, toilet, tile, the works.

-Put all my clothes away, and continued to wonder how in the hell I have so many. I'm a shameless clothes whore, what can I say? Better than being a regular whore. I'd rather have a packed closet than HPV, I'm just sayin' Andi.

But moving was the star of the show, and as promised, here are some pictures of our efforts. They're a bit grainy, for which I apologize. They were taken by the overrated iPhone, and several of them at night, and Quinn's quilt is crooked (UGH!), but hopefully you'll leap to your feet and clap until your hands are numb.

BEFORE, where the kids have been inextricably trapped together for 10 years (though we co-slept for nine years):


Todd shampooing under Reilly's bed (joy of joys!):


Bunk bed on its side. This was one of those things where Todd just says "Go, and don't talk," lol. Only it wasn't funny. Plus the kids switched beds and wanted them on the impossible walls. And Papa delivered. :)


Quinn on a break with a random mattress hanging around:


Reilly's "stuffed-ie" condo, hanging on the bathroom door, which was off its hinges. It was like Alice in Wonderland:


Gutted like a fish:


A rough shot of REILLY'S ROOM, at long last:


Quinn's oasis, where he can read and grow endlessly:


Not a great shot, but I sorted his precious books, and he was so pleased:


And there you (mostly) have it. There were some injuries, such as cutting my foot, Quinn's ever-growing wingspan flying and his nail slicing my ear, which bled, but I soldiered on. I also mentioned breaking my skull trying to separate the bunk beds with my head. Debe pulled a muscle in her shoulder moving the hide-a-bed part of the sectional, and I may have tossed Bella off the new couch in such a way as to make her body contort into something of a Slinky for just a second. I always forget how small and bendy she is. So moving is not without its hazards, but it is all worth it, and I highly recommended. It presents opportunities to clean you never expected. And you should be delighted by this.

Having gone to bed at 4:00am, I told myself, "Self, you are sleeping until at least 8:00am or I will kick your ass." What can I say, I'm a rebel. 6:42am. I'm already eating lunch, and have to get ready to go to work and hopefully get back in time to take the kids to the pool. They so deserve it.

Then to the hacienda to deal with bobby pins, vacuum my car, and bleach the bath tub.

If this doesn't inspire you to do something, then I cut my ear for nothing!