Can you say "hoarder"?

Okay, so yesterday while Andrew was grouchy and sick and basically not doing anything but laying around and watching movies, Patrick and I started cleaning "stuff" out. We have two major areas that have to be cleaned up. Our spare bedroom and the garage. First of all, our back bedroom, soon to be the baby's room, is full of junk. The closet was/is crammed full. I should've taken real before pictures, but as Andrew and Anthony (my nephew) say "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit". Then Andrew usually proceeds to throw a fit. So here are your sort of before pictures (no fits please):

The toys on that bed I'm going to keep. The clothes are getting donated. Anyone want any little boys clothes? Now you see that massive blow up thing in the background? My sister-in-law, Sally, got that for Andrew for Christmas. It's a Buzz Lightyear blow up spaceship. It's BIG and takes up a lot of space. She thought it was funny. Don't worry I got her back. I bought my niece Chloe an instrument set, with cymbals, for her birthday.

Please ignore my finger in some of the pictures, I was using my iPhone and apparently don't know how to take pictures with it. When looking at the pictures of the top shelves in the closet, imagine them filled to the ceiling with boxes. Patrick, my wonderful husband, does not like to get rid of anything. At points yesterday, I thought I might choke him. I'm pretty sure he read every single piece of paper that I made him throw away that he willingly and with great pleasure threw away. His backpack from college was stuffed up in the top of the closet still packed from his last day of college. He didn't want to throw it away . . . he graduated from college in December of 2004. Let! It! Go!

More importantly, if you didn't notice, my wedding dress is hanging in that closet. I'm not sure what to do with it, so I'm thinking about wearing it around the house. I'll probably wear my old Letter Jacket(s) from High School over it. You think I'm kidding . . .  you'll never know. 

I'm sure you did notice all the boxes and Christmas trees in the bottom of the closet. Those are a few of my Christmas decorations. I will not let them go. (Hello, my name is Courtney and I'm addicted to Christmas decorations) Which is why we also have to clean out the garage . . . I need more storage.

Now, the treadmill and I used to be good friends. We're estranged as of late. Pretty soon we'll be separated forever. She was the first Christmas present Patrick gave me after we got married. You have no idea how excited I was, but that was pre-kids. I had time to work out . . . now I'm busy doing important things like typing blog posts that bore people to death. I will miss her, but she must go. Maybe my sister will take her. Then I can have visitation rights (Hello, my name is Courtney and I'm weird).

There was quite a bit more stuff in that room that is now on it's way to a garage sale. Which, glory hallelujah, I don't have to attend thanks to my wonder Mother-in-Law. I hate garage sales. Here's a pic of some of the stuff that went (please ignore my unmade bed - there is a child laying in it).

The garage, well lets just say that there in lies Patrick's real problem. Ladies and gentlemen I have a confession to make, my husband is a hoarder. Thankfully, he married me, the anti-hoarder. Otherwise, who knows where he'd be today.

So this is what we spent our Saturday doing. It's a lot of work, but it will be so worth it when we get our little girl. Yep, we've definitely decided that we will request a little girl. I have big plans for that room. I'll post pictures one day when it's all said and done. And now it's time to end this ridiculously long post . . .  if you made it this far you deserve a medal of honor.