Pack rats

It only took six weeks, but I did it. I finally had my yard sale this past weekend.

To say it took six weeks is an understatement. I had been planning it since I was pregnant more than two years ago. But then Ladybug was born and, you know, you can’t get anything done anymore.

Nonetheless, I’ve been trying to squeeze in a few tasks here and there when I can. I’ll pay bills while Ladybug watches Baby Einstein. I’ll work on filing a foot-high pile of insurance statements, birth certificates and other important documentation when she goes to bed. And for the last two months, I’d clean out closets when she took her nap.

I found things I don’t remember ever buying. I discovered things we never should have bought. And then there were the boxes of childhood memories my parents brought each time they visited.

I say “memories” but, truth is, I had forgotten about all of that stuff. If they had thrown everything away when I left for college, I would never have known the difference. But I suddenly found myself unable to part with an autograph book filled with fourth-grade signatures and a wallpaper-covered cigar box stuffed with scented erasers.

My parents are coming to visit again in a couple weeks, and my mom has been up in the attic preparing.

It’s a good thing I had that yard sale. I have a feeling I’m going to need the closet space.

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