It was time, the tubs of clothes had begun to require their own 4 digit code to our zip code, and so a garage sale is in the works. It will happen on Saturday. I look forward to hopefully making some cash, but it will in no way negate the cash outflow that created this mound of adorable outfits. While in the process of adopting our twins, I shopped. I then ebayed. I then outlet-malled it. (Like my new verbs?) Then I went Targeting. This retained my sanity during a very difficult time and made my children the best dressed in the state (okay, tad bit extreme, but not much).
Knowing that we would like a larger family than 2 and thinking that we might some day have biological children as well (confirmed now that this will not happen), I kept all the clothes that were not stained or icky = most of them as I am v. anal about stains, etc.
Along came Miss S., chubby and adorable self that she is, nothing like my older daughter CM, so size 18m-2T was pretty much kept in vain. Out it all goes into the garage sale. Given that no boys younger than 3T will ever be ours (by our own choice), CA’s clothes can hit the garage as well. They are all going. The piles of clothes are enormous and I am almost a bit embarrassed by the vast quantities that I have collected. I have been tagging them with prices for a week now and am almost ready (v. unusual for me who would typically be finishing the process at the 11th hour and manage to complete it by the hair of my chinny-chin chin – speaking of which, I need a brow and lip wax, but I digress).
My cousin AM came over last evening with a good friend of hers to do a pre-shop. I was out of control. I could not, really physically could not, stop myself from telling her the significance of items she picked up, how cute they were on, and where I bought it. Despite my annoying behavior, she bought $15.00 worth of stuff (I gave her a bit of a deal) and I have almost paid for one of the newspaper ads to throw this used shopping shindig!
I find myself amazingly emotional about these clothes. They are so much more than varieties of cloth. AND, I am not even getting rid of the TRULY memorable and meaningful items. These clothes signify events and stages in development, and how quickly life is passing me by and how quickly my kids are growing up. For me, they are definitely more than just clothes, they are like time capsules of memories.
I hope I can keep my mouth shut enough to sell some on Saturday!
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1 comment:
I can so relate. Just looking at my kids old clothes can make me tear up. I know we don't need most of them any more, but it breaks my heart to part with them. I couldn't even think of letting people do that critical garage sale picking through clothes and 'tsking thing with them. You are a stronger woman than I!
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