I'm a Blogger with Fodder, Too

I'm not doing a typical Not Me! Monday post (here's a past one, just to keep you reading the archives) since MckMama, creator of NMM, is not having a typical Monday. I've already given you a brief run-down of what baby Stellan is going through. It's not good or rosy, folks, and we all need to be down on our knees, praying for his health, his heart, and his family.

Now you may be wondering why in the world I'm so concerned with the life of a complete stranger. That's a valid question, especially if you're not a blogger yourself. When you blog, you make blogosphere friends, friends with whom you may very well never share an "in real life" friendship. But these people are real, so very real, especially when they use their blogs like I do: as a means of showing people their very real, very flawed, very funny lives. (I'm not trying to say I'm funny. It's just that my life is funny. I told someone just the other day that I feel like my life should be a sitcom, one of those mom-centered, scattered, baby-flushing-things-down-the-toilet sitcoms. I can't wait until the boys start talking.) Thus it is with MckMama. I don't know her, and it's likely I will never meet her. But I like her and her mothering style, and she's a good blogger with plenty of fun fodder.

Blogger with fodder. Ha!

Anyway, that's why I am concerned. Any mama would be concerned. Her little, sweet, precious 5-month old baby is facing the prospect of heart failure, and his parents are hanging to God's mercy and His promises with all the strength they have left. They need prayer warriors. If, say, Charlotte were in the same situation, I'd want thousands on their knees for our cause, too. Quite simply, God hears our prayers. Of course He knows all and sees all, but He also hears our prayers. It's not all in vain.

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In less serious news, we had a great weekend with Stephen's folks. His dad, a professional carpenter and excellent all-around handyman extraordinaire, took a weekend off to come and work at our house. I teased him because he rarely just sits around and relaxes. He works at work; he works at home; he works at our home. He just laughed and said he was really happy to help, and I believe him. He and Stephen did a great job at several tasks around the house, the biggest of which was putting up our new-used swing set.

Of course it snowed the night after they put it up. So no swinging just yet.

But it looks great, and I promise pictures soon. What I will tell you is this: Stephen and I went to Lowe's Saturday afternoon, and just for kicks we drove by the wooden play sets that were set up outdoors near the display sheds. Guess how much they were asking for a swing set comparable to ours, except that this one had a canvas roof on the fort and ours has a sturdy wooden roof.

Just guess.

Got the number in your head?

Okay. First, you should know we paid $200.

They were asking $1700.

That is SEVENTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS.

FOR A CHILD'S SWING SET.

We screamed and then laughed and then screamed some more. It feels so good to beat the system and come out on top. Of course, we couldn't have done any of it without our friends Jeremy and Tim, our brother-in-law Joey, and our dad, who altogether put in about six hours of labor to retrieve and set up the sucker. But really. We definitely came out on top. I hope Jack and Baylor appreciate our shopping finesse.

Saturday evening we went into Chicago again to see the Chicago Symphony Orchestra perform Beethoven, Prokofiev, and Mendelssohn. This was the whole reason my in-laws came down, to baby-sit the kids for us while we saw the concert, and I think it was a fair trade. (Read: They love their grandchildren so very dearly.) We got a night off at the symphony, and they got to watch videos with the boys and try to stop Charlotte screaming for an hour because her milk source was an hour away.

Just so you know, this is what the girl ate in the few hours we were gone: 2 1/2 jars of baby food, a bottle of breastmilk, and a bottle of formula. And then she nursed when I came home.

And she did not explode.

And in other Charlotte news, she is 7 months old today. Wow! What an accomplishment, really. She is sitting up on her own (I have pictorial proof on the camera, just waiting to be uploaded), drinking out of a sippy cup, and attempting to crawl. Mainly the "attempting to crawl" turns into her wriggling around on her belly, spinning in circles, and then screaming because she just can't reach that thing, I want that thing right there!

She's great, really.

And so are the boys, even if they did enter the Terrible Twos as soon as they hit their second birthday. That's another post in and of itself, but let me assure you, it is no picnic.

Unless you enjoy flailing, wailing, collapsing, shrieking, snotty toddlers rolling all over your picnic blanket. Then yes, it is indeed a picnic. Please come to my house and take my children with you.