it's like I've got a whole new house around here. And a new brain.
Between the hubs and I, we have done massive organization/clean ups/dejunking over the past two weeks. Massive. Like, fill up the recycle and garbage cans in one day, kind of projects.
My linen closet? Used to look like I took every towel, blanket, and sheet we'd ever owned, rolled them into a ball, stuffed it inside, and then leaned against the door to make it close. You'll close and you'll like it, door.
I never knew I could create such orderly-ness out of such chaos.
Dungeon storage room? Couldn't walk in it.
Hubs tackled this one. Almost cried when I saw the entire space stacked, swept, and walk-able. Threw myself into his arms, I did.
We wept together. It was beautiful.
Not really. Because we are not that lame.
Seriously though-- almost every "secret" space we have has been gutted, cleansed, and exorcized.
ALMOST. Don't you dare walk into my closet. Yet.
Hall closet? I can find the floor.
Under the stairs storage space? Refreshed.
I can't tell you how easy it was to close the door and fuggedaboutit.
And then I saw "Hoarders". No, I was NOTHING like those poor, therapy-needing people, but it sure makes you want to get off thee ole rump and get to work.
Perhaps I should watch regularly.
Anywho, to make a long story short (TOO LATE), something had to be done about my boy's closet. It was beyond a bomb/tornado/impossible to find anything disaster-catastrophe.
And this was after I spent an afternoon cleaning it out.
This idea of little storage cubbies inside the closet got us by for about 0.5 seconds.
Three boys in one small closet. What can I say?
Summer and too-small clothes made its way down to storage.
And I was as surprised as you to find my son pant-less.
I'd like to veer off topic for a moment to let you know that I now have a new word to describe this week's awful, awful sickness:
Let's just say this new word had much to do with why my son was pant-less. Let's just say I investigated. And I screamed. And I wondered how it could possibly be smeared from toilet to tub. And then I knew why my son was indeed, pant-less.
So what's a mommy to do? Besides clean it up? And gag? Search pinterest from some inspiray-shon:
But do I dare take the doors off this closet? Do I dare expose this area for others to see?
I dare. I double dare.
Took the doors right off and got to work. What are we talking about?
Oh, I got lazy. Just bought some "shelfmaid"'s from Lowe's, assembled them, bracketed them to the wall "in case" (bwhahahaha, as if it won't happen) someone tries to climb them, and I'm liking this better already.
And then it just. . . snowballed. How about an extra couple a rod hangers?
Couple extra shelves? Why the heck not.
Molding. Everything needs molding. Duh.
Hooks for the boys' school clothes? Mais oui. Can't make it to school on time without 'em.
And much to my surprise-- I really kind of. . . like it.
It's almost like a new space to decorate.
It makes their room even feel. . . bigger.