The dump

My sister asked me today, "If you have a third kid, won't you use the other room?" HA!
The other room is what we refer to as the office, but in reality is a dumping ground. It holds shawn's desk, my craft table (an old small kitchen table with all four chairs, the computer desk, filing cabinet, one set of storage shelves, one huge corner cupboard with all our CDs and Shawn's various sports paraphanalia, three rolling bins with my crafts stuff in them, two huge kids toys that fit nowhere else nad three chairs. Not sure where the chairs came from, but I feel the need to keep them. (Please note: I failed to mention all of the stuff that is shoved in, on and under said tables, chairs, desks and shelves).
I am a relatively tidy person and this room betrays my inner OCD. Everything seems necessary and unnecessary all at the same time. I am not sure what to do. My mother would love to get her hands on this room and begin the purging. Typically, I would be right there with her, but when I enter this room everything in it seems to say, "You might need me someday." What am I going to do with a feather boa, a set of juggling balls, Shawn's Neil Diamond records and my wedding shoes? Who really knows, but maybe someday... And so I sneak in and out, doing what I can to avoid purging and escape clean up. It's a last resort. The "maybe later" place. Or as we have so affectionately termed it, "the dump."
I keep my kids clean, our house clean, our clothes clean and attempt to get in enough showers to consider myself clean. I keep our food organized, our schedule organized, our toys organized and our car organized. The dump does not get cleaned and rarely gets organized (definately not completely organized ever)! As far as I am concerned, all mom's need a dump. It's the one place you never have to worry about and can always "get to later" without guilt. I cherish my dump. I love my dump. I am not ready to give up the dump.
So third child, beware, if you ever come you're sleeping with your brothers. This space is mine and for now, I refuse to give it up. Maybe later. You never know, my third child may need those juggling balls!