I'm going to make a T-shirt

... "I survived The Yard Sale."

You know, since they can be fairly dangerous.

And no, I don't speak of the 3:45 AM wake up call. Nor the fact that your youngest daughter never went back to sleep. Nor the challenge of setting up your stuff in the pitch dark. Or trying to remain sane throughout the process.

I talk of the BEFORE. The time frame where you price and box up your stuff. where you tend to realize you actually LIKE the stuff you're planning on selling. Especially when 1/2 of the stuff you're selling has been out of your sight for a year.

Okay. Who am I kidding? The other 1/2 has been out of my sight for a MONTH. And it was still a bit of a shock as I pulled it from its box. "I'm selling this?! Why?!"

But of course, I am the type of person who "nests" even when I am NOT pregnant. So add some preggie hormones in there and I become something akin to a tornado. Nothing is safe...

"Okay, this goes. And this. And this. ...Honey, do you think we could sell the Baby Exersaucer? What's that? Raegan's still using it? Well...I know, but I could take her out." (yes, I did actually ask to sell it. And yes, she is still using it. I know. It's a disease, this need to purge that I possess.)

So Friday morning, as I started to go through the yardsale boxes to price things, I began to shop. My Own Yardsale. Pitiful.

Apparently, it's genetic. Because my daughters did the same thing. "Oh!! We're selling this? But it's my favorite toy!"

Grant it, they haven't seen it for a year. Probably forgot it existed. And most likely never played with it to begin with. But suddenly it's a must-have.

Like mother like daughter I suppose.

So for those of you that care... We made $300. And that was with no big ticket items. And this is after having EIGHT other yardsales in the past 5 years. So really? What's left to sell. I mean, other than Raegan's exersaucer. And the shirt that Jet refused to take off. :)

We even have stuff left over....to have another yardsale with some neighbors this summer.

I can't help it. I was going to drop it off, but after making a few hundred dollars on piddly items, I have a hard time just releasing the *junk* to the backdoor of the local Goodwill.

But while the money and the extra space are soooo nice, there always seems to be another personal benefit for me after I purge my house of *stuff*. My spirit begins to come alive again. Honestly, I don't really know why. Maybe it's just the way I'm wired? Or maybe it's because all the stuff cluttering my house clutters my spirit as well? Becoming a major distraction, hindering my ability to "be still and know."

But either way, it remains truth. And this time is no different. More on that to come.