like Christmas Morning...

We've been "in" our house now for 6 days and counting. The movers hauled all our stuff in last Thursday. The kids came home from school and started tearing into said stuff like it was Christmas morning. I, in my intense panic for control and organization amidst chaos starting hollering "wait, let me come help, don't open all the boxes at once, we'll lose stuff in the packing paper, hold on, slow down, go away..." but all those shouts were lost in the sound of massive amounts of packing paper being thrown to the floor as boxes were torn into so kids could find;

1. a stuffed dog, Max, who has been sorely missed.
2. The television set, so the kids could set up the wii Santa brought them for Christmas last December.
3. A pair of brand new shoes, not out of the box, which are deeply desired for use.
4. American girl dolls and paraphanelia-how did they survive in those boxes?
5. A missing "genke" or blanket, loved by Molly
6. Anything that could make noise or flash lights-TOYS

Within an hour i had the kids stashed back in the car to sleep in the corporate apartment we've had this last week. I couldn't stand to have them continue to reak havoc in the already overwhelming bounty of stuff/boxes/mess/chaos. they cried all the way back to the 3rd floor apartment where they can't jump or even walk hard on the floors for fear of upsetting the downstairs neighbor. having thumps on our floor to remind us to "keep it down" was more welcome to me then having my children rip into the boxes...

guess it wasn't so much like Christmas morning for me