We are down to approximately fifty boxes.
You can now walk down the hallway from the boys' room to the master suite.
I finally remembered to buy Cerama Bryte, and the little scouring pads and scraper tool that go with it. (Scraper tool is essentially a razor blade. I find it somewhat amusing that I am being advised to use a sharp knife edge on a surface that is prone to scratching.)
I finally got around to cleaning the cooktop with the Cerama Bryte after one of the felines decided that it was time for Mom to rip off the Band-Aid, jumped up onto the cooktop and vomited on it. Thanks to said unidentified feline (I have my suspicions), I am now an expert on cleaning said cooktop.
(Shortly after my trial-by-cat-yak, I walked by Spouse, who asked if I was wearing something "watermelon-y." "No, that's a unique and proprietary blend of countertop cleaner, cat vomit and Van Cleef & Arpels that I plan to market as 'Monday Morning at the McGlincheys.' Think it will sell?")
My kids are now the owner of the world's most expensive cap rack. (The girl at the Container Store said that it was WAY superior to the other type of cap rack. And I was too tired to question.) One closet in Connor's room is now devoted to clothes - and, thanks to my oldest child's engineering skills, I did not have to put together the little shelving unit that hugs the back wall. I left the room, came back in and he was 80% of the way finished with it. I think he looked at the directions once, if at all. Anyway, jeans and shorts are now folded in cubbies instead of taking up hanger space. They always tore them off of the hangers anyway, and left them in a pile on the floor. Now, they will pull them out of cubbies and leave them in a pile on the floor - but it will be a danged sight easier to get them to clean up after themselves.
Cap rack is on the inside of that closet door. Backpack bungee contraption is on the inside of the door to the closet that is now dedicated for toys. Toy sorting is in process. (It's going to be a long process.)
Oh, and Friend Robyn may have her baby by this evening. We have decided that it would be bad form to carry the moving carton filled with toys earmarked for "Baby A" up to the hospital. So it's in the carriage house for now. But we are anxiously awaiting his arrival. And his arrival could not come at a better time, because if it's been fairly easy to motivate the Little Kid to thin the toy herd on the basis of "you can still play with it over at Aiden's," it will be that much easier to motivate him once Aiden is actually here as a visual aid.