It doesn't feel like home, yet.

 It feels like we're staying in someone's vaction house, or a hotel.

A really nice hotel, though.  That has all of our stuff in it.  *shrugs*

So, I've done 95% of the downstairs, and today I tackle the boys' rooms. 

*lays down to die*  

Ironically, I need to clean house (sweep, mop, bathrooms, etc), but I can't concentrate long enough from unpacking the house to clean it.  It's bizarre.  The house should have the decency to stay clean til I get all the boxes out, right?

Aaron and Ethan don't think it feels like home either.  Every day when I pick them up from school, their question is:  "Are we going to the new house?"

Well, as someone else already lives in our old house, uh, yeah.

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Sunday morning, Aaron was rooting round in the pantry (as he is want to do) and he asked the question:

Aaron.  Hey, Mom, do these people have donuts?

Me.  These people?  We are 'these people,' A.J.  We live here, now.

Aaron.  Oh, right, I know.  But do they have donuts?

Me.  No, they don't have donuts.

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I took the child to The Donut Stop.  Sometimes it's easier not to argue.