“Judge not lest ye be judged…”

Had our annual garage sale this past weekend. Not much new to report on that end other than it kicked our asses. Weeks of prep, careful sorting and pricing, the psychological roller-coaster of: “Should we get rid of this precious piece of Greta’s infancy?” (the answer is usually “Yes”, by the way) seriously, everything about garage sales are hard. But, we’re kinda hooked. This is the fourth one we’ve had and, despite proclaiming that this year’s sale would be our last, we still carefully packed up a few boxes for next year’s sale, so, if you’re in the market for an electric can opener, talk to me in October 2013!

Anyway, this go around we didn’t make much money, but, we did get rid of a lot of stuff that has been junking up our garage for years, so, yay! The only thing we didn’t get rid of was some of the primo, name-brand baby gear that we had on sale. I don’t know why, but, people were not buying baby stuff this year. Or maybe they just didn’t wanna pay what we were charging. Either way, we brought a lot of baby gear home, hoping to sell it on Craigslist instead.

And then, this morning, got an e-mail from our garage sale buddies — the one’s who own the lawn we shill our wares on every October — saying that he got an e-mail inquiry about our Combi Shuttle Stroller and car-seat combo from a dude name SkumLove. Apparently, SkumLove missed the big sale and was wondering if the stroller listed in our Craigslist ad was still available.

Mrs. Yeti was, understandably, a bit concerned about inviting someone named SkumLove to our home, so, I e-mailed him back and then agreed to meet him and his wife in the Bob’s Big Boy parking lot by our house. And guess what happened? SkumLove was the coolest dude ever. Sure, he and Mrs. SkumLove were all pierced and tatted up and stuff, but, they were the most normal people we dealt with all day at the garage sale. And they were so excited to buy our beloved Combi stroller that I just wanted to cry. I know I shouldn’t care what happens to our stuff when we sell it, but, I get terribly attached to things and when they find a good home, well, that makes me happy.

And trust me, our stroller car-seat combo could not have a better home than it now has. And on top of all that, I learned a valuable lesson: do not judge a person by their e-mail handle because you never can tell. I mean, hell, I’d be $50 poorer if I had. Oh, and get this, SkumLove e-mailed me back later tonight to tell me that he and his lovely wife might want to buy our video baby monitor as well.

Yee-haw! Bring on the SkumLove!

Selling our memories…

Even though I had to make the appointment to sell some of our baby gear months ago — apparently we are not the only ones “selling our memories” these days — and I knew that the day was coming, I was still a total wreck the whole drive over to the used baby store this week. I just kept thinking: “Wait a minute, what if Greta wants that baby sling for her dollies?” or: “Those pants aren’t that short on her, are they?”

But the truth is, Greta had officially outgrown everything I had in the back of our car months ago…including the sweet little Co-Sleeper she slept in the first few months of her life. Actually, I think she might have slept in it for a whole year or more (she’s a little on the small side), but, in any case, the Co-Sleeper was, by far, the hardest item to part with.

I mean, sure, I had fond memories of the clothes — her first tiny rain boots, some awesome pajamas and dresses and stuff — but that frigging Co-Sleeper just ripped my heart out, man. At first I thought maybe it was because it was so damn expensive — it’s actually a Mini Co-Sleeper for parents with smaller apartments, so it has special-order Mini sheets and shit — but, the truth is, that was one of the first things we bought for Greta before she was born and I had grown unhealthily attached to it.

It was also the first thing I set up when she came home from the hospital and I know it sounds stupid, but, having Greta sleep in that little brown, organic-cotton, Mini Co-Sleeper while tethered to our bed made those first few weeks a whole lot less scary. I mean, truth be told, she coulda still died in her sleep in that thing too, but, in my mind, the odds of one of us hearing her choke and gag to death in time to save her were that much better if we were just a bed roll away from her. Crazy logic, I know, but, it helped me sleep better that first year. Yes, I was worried about SIDS for a year. Frankly, I kinda still am. That shit is so freaky…yikes!

So, I’m standing there, knee-deep in golden, mostly-exaggerated memories of Greta’s first days on Earth and I realize that I simply cannot sell the Mini Co-Sleeper to this woman. No way. No how. The Co-Sleeper is off the table, chica. To make matters worse, her assistant manager set it all up to check on its condition and shit, and, I swear to God, that sweet little crib looked just as cute and snuggly as the day we bought it. Urgh…why God, why? Seriously, I could barely look at it without choking up.

And then I realized that, memories aside, the time to part with the Co-Sleeper was now. We had tried and failed to sell it at two previous garage sales — try telling that crowd about the value or special-order organic sheets! — and I knew that if we were ever gonna sell the Co-Sleeper, this was the place and time to do it.

So, we haggled a bit over the price — Mrs. Yeti and I had agreed to not let it go for less than $40 — but the best they could offer was $30. And seeing as it was just taking up room in the garage, I figured $30 was better than a kick in the head. So, I took one last picture of Greta’s first little bed and then promptly sold it for thirty bucks.

All totaled, we made $90 — which definitely lessened the blow! — but, I’ll tell ya, my inner-hoarder will be missing that Mini Co-Sleeper till he dies…so sad…