It's 9:45 p.m, the house is mostly quiet--husband upstairs reading, kids asleep, dog outside...I have Whitestrips on my teeth and just applied Retin-A to my face. It smells weirdly delicious. I feel like a high-maintenance 40-something woman, but the Retin-A is all my dermatologist's doing, as a pre-emptive measure to hopefully stave off more basal cell skin cancers episodes. The Whitestrips: totally my doing. Spent the whole day--ok, a huge chunk of the weekend--going through each girl's closet--a hideous job but so rewarding in the end. We tried everything on, got rid of stuff, passed stuff down to the next sister, and once that closet was finished, moved on to the next. Now my dining room table is covered with clothes and surrounded by boxes because I'm having our first garage sale ever on Thursday. Having trouble parting with the Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys...might I want to keep those for when I have grandchildren? Will they be charmed by these old-fashioned toys? Or am I just a sentimental hoarder? Can I really sell Leah's Pottery Barn Kids white vanity and little white chair? Should I keep it for her to give her daughter some day? I was in our storage room tonight and saw the wooden high chair, the disassembled crib, the changing table, and even the crib bedding. The little red rocking chair, the wooden push toy that was Kellis's...I just can't get rid of that stuff. Maybe, though, I can get rid of the Tinker Toys. And the Legos. But I'm keeping the American Girl dolls! There's only so much of my daughters' childhoods that I can part with at any given time. Baby steps...