This past weekend, we had a big yard sale. I’ve been collecting stuff in our garage for the past 5 months and finally the stars aligned (meaning Chris was home, I was feeling good, Bean was gone, and the sun was shining), and we were able to have it this weekend.
My friend, Sarah, brought some of her stuff over to sell and she came bearing bagels, so we let her stay.
Let me just tell you that we rocked this yard sale. Rocked it. I priced everything really great (thanks to my friends on Facebook and Twitter who gave me price suggestions late Friday night as I sat alone in my garage trying to figure out what my goods were worth…). We sold just about everything. Except, of course, for the two things we desperately wanted to get rid of.
We cannot sell this table and chairs set. Can’t do it. It is destined to sit in my garage. I’ve had this table and chairs since I was in college. We used to play King’s Cup on it. Do you know what King’s Cup is? I’m not telling you if you don’t. This is a family blog. Google it. Anyway, I have tried to sell this darn table and chairs set for four years and no one will buy it! I can’t figure out why, either. it’s in good shape and I price it really low. $25 for the whole shebang! But no one will take it and so this week, it will go to Goodwill, where hopefully someone will give it a nice home.
Chris had this tacky, horrible beer lamp over his pool table in the Man Cave in Connecticut. But since we’ve moved, there is no Man Cave for this lamp to reside. And so I have been campaigning for months that it should be put in our yard sale. It should be given a good home in some other Man Cave where beer drinking, pool playing men can truly appreciate it’s brilliance. And Chris fought and fought against it. So, finally I quit asking. If Chris wanted it to sit out in our garage forever, that was his choice. But on Saturday morning when we were putting out yard sale stuff, Chris surprised me by hauling his beloved beer lamp out. Only, apparently beer lamps aren’t in high demand after all (shocker…) and we didn’t get one bite on the lamp. Not one.
But other than those two eye sores, we got rid of just about everything. And we made a nice little chunk of change in the process – $500 of change, to be exact. Not too shabby for a mornings worth of work and several months worth of collecting crap in our garage. And it was even kind of worth fighting the thousands of gnats that swarmed around mine and Sarah’s heads for some reason. Maybe it was worth the gnats. Maybe not.
A few hours after the yard sale, I came inside and finally laid down to rest for a bit. When I woke up from my nap, I couldn’t move. Seriously. I’ve heard people say that before when they have back problems, but I thought, surely, that was an exaggeration. Until it happened to me. And then I realized that it most certainly is NOT an exaggeration. I could not move. Couldn’t roll over, couldn’t sit up, couldn’t stretch out – nothing. I was locked in pain. So much so that Chris came back to help me and the only thing he ended up doing was handing me my cell phone and telling me to call my doctor right then and there because this was not normal. So, I called her from the fetal position I was in and she said that if I couldn’t support my weight on my own when I stood, then I needed to get to the emergency room. I laughed and told her I couldn’t even sit up and when I described what was going on, she said she was almost certain I had a slipped disc.
I took a muscle relaxer my doctor prescribed and Chris and I decided that we would wait to see if that helped before we went to the hospital. I slept most of the afternoon and when I woke up, I could sit up but still couldn’t put any weight on my legs. By that night, I was able to walk in short stints, but had been advised by my favorite doctor – my mom – that I really needed to stay completely off my feet for the rest of the weekend to let the swelling go down. Apparently, if the problem is truly a slipped disc, the pain comes when the disc swells and you just have to wait it out until the swelling goes down. So, I did. I caught up on my email, I did some writing, did some work, made some phone calls, read a book in a comfy chair by the pool, and really took it easy (which was easy to do since we’d shipped Bean off to my parents for the weekend anyways).
Tonight I am feeling a little better, but I’m heading to my doctor this week where we will hopefully have x-rays done to find out what’s really going on with my back. Until then, it’s absolutely zero lifting for me and limited walking. I feel like an old lady, but I’m finding that pregnancy and old age seem to have a lot in common. Perhaps that’s foreshadowing the rapid aging that comes with having babies…
Anyway, I’m trying to stay positive and happy and joyful about this pregnancy, but – let’s face it – I’m over it. I’m ready to meet Baby Gracie and to sniff her and to tickle her feet. I’m ready to have a baby to put in that beautiful, girly nursery. I’m ready to give Bean a little sister. But, more than anything, right now I’m just ready to not be pregnant anymore!