Going Into The Closet

These are not excerpts from the next episode of Hoarders.

It's our storage closet in the basement, also known as The Secret Mommy Closet. You see, I hold the key (the closet door locks), and I'm pretty much the only person who goes in there...mostly because the thought of anyone rifling through that stuff makes me quake with fear.

It's an organized mess, really it is.

It could be better organized though. A couple of weeks ago I tackled a portion of it - the tubs of girl clothes- and got those reorganized and labeled.

I also got the holiday decorations sorted.
It's the generally miscellanea that is my biggest obstacle. Some of it is on hold to be donated, and others is awaiting further sorting. However, unlocking that door is like ringing a dinner bell, like inviting ants to the picnic, like...a mosquito's reaction to me stepping outside in the summer.

The girls, they swarm. They can't resist that open door...our Christmas decorations!...the softball helmets!

Alas, I fear it will forever be a work in process.