I’ve been busy this week to say the least. Mostly with work, but in my spare time I’ve been preparing for a garage sale that was today. By preparing I mean pulling everything out of the plastic tubs in our basement and letting my husband do the real “work” of carrying it upstairs and outside.

My mom and I must be gluten for punishment, because we both decided we had enough junk that we needed to clean out room in our houses. Our junk differs a little though. Hers was knick-knack stuff, lots of baskets, flower pots and old things. It always amazes me because we’ve done this before and when she unpacks her stuff in our garage I think to myself there is no way anyone will buy that odd thing. Then they do! What cracks me up most is the way she prices her items. There were two of the exact same flower pots - one marked a quarter, the other ten-cents. I never mark anything ten cents. I figure if it’s not worth a quarter, it’s not worth selling.

My assortment included mostly toys, kids clothes and some household items. We also sold a few pieces of odd furniture (in hopes we might actually get to move next year). I have kept EVERY SINGLE item Ethan has owned since before he was born in dozens of large plastic tubs. My original hording thought was we’d put it all to use with another child….but it seems due to medical issues from a car accident a few years ago, that dream is unlikely to become reality. So in my own version of “therapy” I decided to part with almost all of it.

Overall the sale went well. We sold quite a bit of stuff and then packed up the remaining things and donated it to two local worthy organizations. But you know the interesting people you come into contact with when you open up your garage and junk to complete strangers!

First of all, when a sale says it starts at 7 a.m. do you arrive at 5:52 a.m. and expect to shop? I think it’s rude and I let the 3 shoppers who attempted know it by turning them away. Secondly, I realize you can bargain with the seller on higher priced items, but when something is a quarter and you ask if the seller will take twenty-cents….WHY? Really, a nickel?

My mom had brought a large metal briefcase looking box with the first ever made VHS tape recorder. Oh yeah! She had marked it $5 and in my head I giggled. All be darn if some weird young man with many, many piercings decided to buy it. The funnier part was when he was half-way down the drive my mom says, “He’s going to make a lot of porn with that!” Oh my, we didn’t need to go there.

I left my mom in charge of the money. I don’t do math - at all. Especially in my head under pressure. Early in the morning I think she got scammed by a Hispanic woman who pulled a rather well played “gypsy” type heist over on her. (I only know it resembled a gypsy con because I’ve been watching “The Riches” on FX.)

Later in the day we were almost taken again, but I put my foot down. I’m not entirely sure I did the right thing though. A woman came and bought a couple dollars worth of kids clothes and toys. She returned about 45 minutes later carrying her sacks and barged into the garage, slamming the items on the table. According to her she’d went to get gas, pulled her change out of her pocket and realized we didn’t give her the correct amount back after her purchase.

Now in the dramatic act she pulled the “change” out of her pocket along with about $40 and demanded $5 more dollars. I admit we very well may have short-changed her, but how am I to know she is telling the truth? And why didn’t she count her change before she left? I was polite and explained that it wasn’t that I didn’t believe her, but she should have checked her change before leaving. She wasn’t pleased and started crying and carrying on in front a dozen or so people. To add to her exit, she yelled to people as she was walking down our drive to count their change.

Although the profit is nice and a cleaner basement is great, I’m not convinced all the work before and after are worth it. Note to self: No more garage sales.

THE BEST NEWS EVER ~ I “donated” the 960 lbs. of rubber in our driveway to a Christian pre-school!! I had put a “free if you u-haul” sign as wishful thinking during the sale…..and to my amazement the ugly animals were the talk of the sale! So they are now gone. Now I just have to explain that to the in-laws.

There are so many qualities I could list about my mother that would acknowledge what an outstanding person she is, but her actions are what prove her love for her family.

When I was born, my mother quit her job as an art teacher to stay home with me and eventually my brother. While we were growing up she was the mom who took care of all our needs, always making sure we knew how much she loved us.

My father left when I was in middle school and my mother had to take a minimum wage job in a factory, despite having a master’s degree, to provide for us. She taught us that you take care of your family first, no matter what you have to do.

Fast forward 14 years – my son and I were involved in a head-on car accident. As I lay in ICU, my mom sat next to my side promising me that everything would be alright. She stepped in and helped my husband with all the issues that arose and cared for our son.

I spent the next 3 months in the hospital and she decided a few weeks into my recovery to quit her job, because they would not allow her to take a leave of absence. Her past career was advocating for children who were abused, neglected and unable to speak for themselves and now she was my advocate.

I felt guilty for interrupting her life and career, but there was never a question in her mind as to what matters most. Once again she showed me that family comes first and you do whatever you have to.

For the past 3 years she has continued to help my family by driving me to therapy and doctor appointments, watching our son while I am in the hospital, fixing us dinner and cleaning our house ~ basically anything we needed.

Again, she put aside her own life to help her family. I only hope that someday I can repay her for the love she’s shown me by her actions.

Happy Mother’s Day to all mom’s who make sacrifices daily for their children & families. You truly are what makes the world go round!

My mother and I have a deep history with purses. Long ago, I didn’t even want to carry a purse. I just wasn’t an accessory type of girl. By the time college came around I developed a more feminine style. During my freshman year in college I had 3 purses stolen in 6 months!

This was all pre-9/11 but getting a new driver’s license was a huge pain. The Bureau of Motor Vehicles wants like 4 forms of ID, which is nearly impossible if you just lost your license, social security card, debit card, student id, etc… Usually I had to dig out a yearbook as an acceptable picture ID. The angry lady at the BMV wasn’t nearly as bad as dealing with my mother though.

I’m sure you’re anxious to hear how someone manages to have the same thing happen more than once. I obviously don’t learn from my mistakes. Let me re-cap the stories:

1st - I left it in the back seat of a girlfriend’s car on campus. I wasn’t even out partying! We were at the student Christian center hanging out with some people. But the parking lot was near a dark alley and they broke the back window taking only took my purse. The cops found it in a dumpster down the road but it was empty.

2nd - I was shopping at Wal-Mart and left it in the shopping cart…in the parking lot. By the time I got home and realized it wasn’t with me, it was gone. A few months later some lady called us from a town away and said they’d found my purse with ID. My mom went to pick it up from some shady apartment complex and of course it was completely empty. I’m speculating here, but maybe these people took it and then thought they’d get a reward? I don’t know.

3rd - (And final time!) On Valentine’s Day my roommate and I had an awful date with these 2 guys. He drove a beater car and who the hell would break into it is beyond me, but using my noggin’ I actually put the purse in the trunk this time. While in the movie someone again broke a window, took his cd player (which was some knock-off brand) and broke through the back seat to the trunk. My only explanation is that they must have seen me put it in the trunk.

All three of these instances happened at night and usually very late. The second call I had to make every time (after the cops) was to my mother. Waking her up in the middle of the night was never a good idea, but by the third call she was pretty much done. I can’t remember her exact words, but I know she expressed her anger in quite a colorful array of verbs. Rightfully so.

The last one I lost was a very nice and expensive leather purse I had received for Christmas from her. A few days after I managed to dig out the ol’yearbook again for that photo ID at the BMV, a box came in the mail. Inside was the exact same purse I’d just had stolen and a note from my mother:
“Purses can be replaced. Beautiful daughters such as yourself cannot. Sorry. Love, Mother”

This week I attended a seminar for work and my mother and son joined me for some free vacation time and swimming. One evening as we headed down to swim my mother started to bring her purse with her. I gave her a hard time and she decided she could leave it in the microwave for safe keeping. It eerily reminds me of my grandmother who hid money in an empty coffee tin in the basement. Where do you hide your money?

Last weekend we had our usual Friday night pizza with my parents. That’s what happens when you get married and have a kid - all normal socializing turns into family time. During dinner my mom informed us she had a million dollar idea! Great, we’re all ears. She subs in elementary schools and has encountered numerous problems with cheaply made pencils that won’t sharpen. And…? Her idea was if we could come up a cheap environmentally friendly material to make pencils out of that didn’t get eaten up by school manual pencil sharpeners we would make millions.

I think she went on for about 15 minutes about this idea. My husband chuckled as he suggested the school use electric pencil sharpeners. My brother smiled as he mentioned that they make these things call pens now, some come with erasers. As for me, I didn’t think this was a “new” problem in schools. I remember grinding the wood off pencils in search of that perfect lead point in school. Most of the time I’d break the tip of my pencil off on purpose. It was a great excuse to need to get up and walk around the class. I also remember these stupid pencils where the lead was in a white tip and you would take one off as it got dull and shove it back through the end of the plastic pencil. Then the next tip would come out. How odd? I’m sure teachers really loved the inventor of those. If you lost one of the white lead tips, you were screwed because the pencil wouldn’t work.

Hey mom, that pencil you’re looking for is called a “mechanical pencil.” Plastic is cheap and they are refillable. Somebody already had that million dollar idea.

My mother celebrated her 58th birthday in January. She did so by cooking her own birthday dinner. We had invited her to our house and I was going to provide dinner (remember I do not cook, so it probably would have been in the form of a square box via delivery). When she arrived wearing oven mitts I knew I was in trouble. Towards the end of the delightful dinner my mother announced she had a wonderful year, thanks to all of us. Alright. You’re welcome.

There was more. After gushing about how we all made her year she handed us each a sealed envelope. Everyone got one, including our 4 year old son who can’t read. First reaction was “What the hell is this?” I mean come on, first you cook your own birthday dinner, then you hand us cards? I know we’ve always been a little on the dysfunctional side, but this is high-society creepy weird.

It was a thank you card - with those exact words on the front. Mine stated:

Emily,
Thank you so much for being a daughter I can be so proud of.
It has been another year in which I am in awe of the young lady you are.
Thank you for another great year.
Love, Mother

I don’t know if they make a medication for that kind of crazy? But isn’t she a beautiful crazy 58?