It was much overdue.
I couldn't shut the doors, there were piles everywhere, too many hangers, etc.
I commandeered my husband's storage cubes since he had clothes in there untouched for the past two years. I sorted, made piles, donated things. I got serious about the closet.
In what little time I had.
Here is the remaining side of the closet:
It's hidden back behind the closed door. The door can't even be opened because of the stuff in front of it.
So I have nice tidy spaces amidst messy spaces. This, I found, is what being a mother is all about. You take care of the things you can, and try not to feel guilty about the things you can't. My closet is an easy space for me not to care about, since it is quite tucked away. My room is basically always shut so the boys can't rampage through it, and I rarely have visitors. No one will see this space (especially since the door can't be moved to access it).
I recently came to the realization that: 1. I am the one who will clean things. If something is messy, it is up to me to clean it, or it shall remain in that state indefinitely. 2. It is FAR easier to keep a space clean if it is uncluttered.
Both of these realizations suck. I am not a cleaner, pre-children. Sure, spring clean. Sure, deep clean occasionally. But every day clean? Nope. I have had to whistle a different tune lately. Two solid-food-consuming boys make a mess. They have dishes, dirty clothes, messes everywhere they go. I can't turn a blind eye (well I could but my cleaning OCD would get the best of me). So I do dishes after every meal. Those five minutes post-meal save me from a 30+ minute daily dish-a-thon. I vacuum daily. I steam mop at least weekly, if not twice a week. I clean the bathroom twice a week. There are quite a few tasks that I do that pre-baby me would be shocked at. But pre-baby me really had no effing idea what she was getting in to.
To the second point, eliminating clutter. Now I love me some clutter. I like collecting things. I do not like parting with things. But when you live in a 950 square foot house without a garage or really many closets to speak of, you have no where to put the clutter. It lives on the counters, on shelves, in broad daylight. When trying to clean around these piles, you start to realize how little you need the clutter. Now I am a clothes and shoes-a-holic. I want it all. I can foresee every reason to keep every item. I could gain or lose weight. I could get a professional job. I might need to go to a fancy event. Blah. A million reasons why I am a slave to my clothes. So I went though and got rid of. I gave my friends and family a chance to pick through it. That helped. At least it doesn't feel like such a betrayal to the intentions I had for the clothes if I give them to someone I know. So the piles dwindle down.
I still have clutter. I still have areas I need to control. But it's like life, you deal with what you can when you can, and give yourself some grace to deal with the rest when you can.