For the past few days, our household has been in an uproar in preparation for our yard sale. This is a big thing for us because we have never gotten rid of any toys. That's right. For eleven years, we have accumulated every single toy. Let me change that. We sold one toy at a post-wide garage sale at Fort Eustis in 2004. Brother lost his mind. We chose not to put him or us through that. But, something had to be done.
My playroom picker-upper Ben is leaving for Afghanistan and I must simplify.
We had a lot of things. Lots of clothes. Lots of toys. Not so many books for sale (come on, did you think there would be?). We had a great turnout and made a lot of money.
Nothing is free though. My heart was just broken seeing pieces of our past leaving the yard. At times I just wanted to sob my heart out. It was so stupid because these are inanimate objects. The clothes are just clothes. The baby toys are just baby toys. The memories did not leave with them, but each time I saw an outfit leave, I remembered them on my girls. I should've been looking at it as a glass half full thing and think of it as a trip down memory lane, but I was too busy trying not to cry.
Oh, this is a pathetic blog post. Anyway, the sale is over. The kitchen, living room, playroom, and girls room are a mess. I have a vacation to get ready for. A new week is upon us. Let's hope I can get things done this week as well as I did this past week.