The Mother of all Garage Sales.

We are finally having a garage sale! We were originally just planning to "bring a few things over" to my dad's garage sale last weekend, but then Julian got sick (just a cold, but he had a high fever and a rash for a few days) and Dom decided to paint the outside of the house, where the addition was put on last year. (a busy weekend) so, true to form, we left that small pile of "a few things" to rot in our basement.

Coincidentally, this weekend, my neighborhood association (of which I am a proud board member, I might add) is hosting a neighborhood-wide Sale-o-Rama, so Dom and I sprung into action this week, rummaged through the closets, the boxes, the piles of clutter everywhere, and came up with a pretty sizeable pile of stuff to sell. We don't intend to get rich (unless someone does in fact buy the violin, the bed, the mountain bike, and the kayak)-but what a fun way to meet the neighbors, chat with folks, and enjoy a summer Saturday in Minnesota. Plus, maybe we can get rid of some of this STUFF that's been plaguing us. By noon I'll be giving stuff away, I am sure. I just want it out of here.

I can't believe Dom agreed to do it--he hates garage sales. When we're in the car and we drive past one, or better yet, a flea market, I have to beg and plead to get him to stop. On the rare occasion that he actually does stop, he grumbles so much about it that it's really not even that fun. (Sorry, Dom, but you know it's true!) He sees no point in "paying money for stuff other people are throwing away" and wasting time wandering around looking at crap....I call it browsing around in search of random goodies and treasures unknown! And I thoroughly enjoy it!

So, if you're in the area this Saturday, mosey on over. You can indulge your secret desire to become a violin player,or a collector of random pieces of childrens play equipment.

fashionally challenged

Here's what a total dork I am. Last week, when it seemed spring had finally arrived (oh, blessed spring! How I have missed you!) and I had the luxury of a kidless couple of hours, I went to run some errands. My wardrobe is pitiful. It's not as if the errands were anything exciting, say, a Kentucky Derby party or a lunch meeting with Obama....just a trip to the grocery store and the car wash. (exciting life I lead, no?)

Granted, most of my "spring wardrobe" has been boxed up and sitting in the crawlspace for the better part of three years (in the past three spring/summer seasons I was pregnant/postpartum or too busy chasing a one-year old and too freaked out about everything to care what I was wearing...and then pregnant/postpartum again)

So I found myself sauntering through the parking lot on the most beautiful spring day...blue sky, puffy white clouds, sunshine so bright you could smell it (well, I could anyway) and leaves practically exploding from the branches. I was a stunning vision of...brown. And not the brown that is the new black either. I'm talking about faded brown cords, and a long-sleeved brown maternity shirt that still passes as a loose fitting shirt. Yeah. I was lookin' good, people.



So began my quest for decent, well fitting clothes. For me. I've had some minimal issues with finding kids clothes (see this post) but nothing I can't deal with, given enough time and laundry detergent. It was time to exhume my spring wardrobe from the bowels of my house. A few hours after my lovelies were asleep, I found myself knee-deep in clothes I have had for years, some old favorites, and many, many "what was I thinking?" pieces. So I did a ton of laundry that night and realized that I am in deep doo-doo.



My cute summer shorts, which fit me great four years ago, don't particularly, shall we say, get along with my two time-post-postpartum body. My cute summer shirts, which used to fit, now aren't particularly thrilled to stretch across my rather-ahem-ample baby-feeding system.

So, at the very next kid-free opportunity, I hit the consignment stores hard. Three hours later I had a somewhat sizeable collection of passable clothes. I am not going to stop any cars with my incredible fashion sense, but at least I'm not wearing corduroy anymore!

Of course, the grand irony here is that it's back down to 50 degrees and rain. So I believe the fashion editors of the world might forgive my corduroy, should it emerge from my closet again...

Our First Cheat

So, I went out and bought something recently without a second thought. I fell off the wagon of non-consumerism. And I have no regrets at all. None. What was the ultra-tempting item that got me to turn away from my values, to ignore this challenge we've taken on, to shun our quest for simplicity? A new car? Some great clothes?

Light-blocking fabric.

Those of you who have seen me recently probably don't have to try very hard to recall my pitted eyes, sallow complexion and complete lack of energy these past few months. What many of you know is that our dear baby boy was trying for the world record of sleepless days and nights. He was making a pretty good run of it, too. 9 months without a nap. (no, I'm not exaggerating) No single stretch of sleep at night lasting more than three hours. Nine months of this was really taking its toll on me. I was physically and mentally exhausted, completely drained, and, frankly, starting to lose my grip. I was short on patience (aka an UberHag of a mother and wife), I was short on ideas. We have tried everything to get this kid to sleep. And I do mean, everything. Health experts from every end of the spectrum weighed in on his difficulty. Friends were generous with advice and suggestions. I have sung every lullaby ever written to this child.

Finally, a friend (bless you S) menti0ned how well her son started to sleep after she taped black poster board up on the windows, to block out the light. Why didn't I think of this before? I raced to the fabric store the next morning, wondering how on earth I could have overlooked this one. But of course. He has wood shades, but they aren't great at blocking the light.

I spent twenty minutes velcroing the fabric up in J's room, and that afternoon, miracle of miracles, he took a nap. And not just any nap, friends, he took a three hour nap. Since then, he has napped every day, for about an hour and a half. And the nights? His current average is to wake up two or three times. This is down from the 5 to 10 times per night I was getting up with him before.

To say I am restored is an understatement.

So, yeah, we broke the terms of the Compact this time. But like I said, it is so worth it. No regrets here. I am re-joining the living, and it is good.

The Article.

Oh, yeah, I should probably post this link.