Still quietly vacationing.
Moon and I are slowly digging out his bedroom. Memories of my space being invaded by the rules of others are flashing by (i.e. a thorough clean out happening while I was away at camp, including art work being thrown away, and the door of my room being removed when it was too messy). So I've tried to leave their rooms alone, but there are limits.
It feels like we're trying to move an ocean with a leaky bucket. He has his mother's pack-rat heart. There were some tears and yelling yesterday. Today is better. All the missing rulers, tape rolls, scissors, socks, etc. have been found. We're tackling it one corner, garbage bag, recycle box at a time, for only half an hour, followed by an hour off, repeat.
We are both happy to dust ourselves off for the breathers in-between. Moon does whatever it is that teenage boys do, but he's not allowed to do it in his room yet, and I retreat to stitching much calmer waters.