Problems

If I said we were settled in the new home, I'd be lying.
We've been scrambling every single night,
and staying up WAY too late in an attempt to get our home in order.

Unpacking, organizing, contemplating, rearranging, arguing.
You know...all the joys that come with moving into a new house. 

Sure, we have all the necessities put away.
But we're talking about an over-analyzing, nag-the-husband, perfection-seeking, want-everything-done-right-now human being.
I have no clue who would act like that.

I can't stand having my life out of whack.
The same reason why I can't handle one thing in my house being out of place.

Let me give you a little insight.

I can't go to bed with dishes in the sink.
Clothes are never lingering outside of my closet/dresser.
I pick up my house every night so that the little things don't pile up.
If Carson's clothes aren't laid out for the next day, I consider myself behind.
I can't sleep if things aren't "in order."

Y'all. I'm anal. A fast-paced, organized freak. A perfectionist. A worry wart about the details.

So, when I tell you that I still have unpacked boxes in the basement,
and things not hung on the walls,
TV remotes not programmed correctly,
and garage tools still laying on my kitchen island,
dust bunnies, and cabinets, and bathrooms, and blinds that have yet to cleaned,
and Carson's toys everywhere,
just know that I.am.going.absolutely.bonkers.

However, we do have one amazing kitchen (more to come on that). Finally.

But, we still don't have a kitchen table. I just cringed.

Oh! In other exciting news (not), Carson is now climbing out of his crib. How fun.