I used to be organized...and rested...and I used to wear real clothes more often than sweats.  I even used to put make up on every day and sit down to eat.

Three kids later, I am sometimes hanging on by my fingernails.  That's been the case since Christmas.  The kids' closets were so bad, I couldn't even put away their gifts, and haven't had the energy to do anything about it.

I don't know what kind of burst of energy I've had in the last two days, or why, but I decided it was time to attack their rooms.

The people of 'Hoarders' have nothing on my kids.  Some of the highlights: the top of a pinata that brought tears when I tried to throw it away, a secret stash of candy, a treasure trove of missing dirty socks, a small tupperware full of something that had turned green and hairy, and a mystery gooey stuck together thing that made me gag.

I literally spent about 5 hours in each room, going through toys and clothes.  Everything is organized and clean (reason:  my mom is coming for a visit).  I am going to enjoy the moment, and I do mean moment.  The girls are pretty good about keeping their stuff clean with a little guidance, but Matthew...

Matthew is bummed.  He told his dad last night that he likes his room messy.  I don't have high hopes.

*No, I didn't take a picture of the disaster.  Honestly, I didn't even think to.  Why on earth would I?  When you come into my house, the main area is usually pretty clean and picked up.  No one needs to know the truth.