1. We bought Jack a new computer. Unlike his older brother who got a MacBook Air the second he came home from school with his email log-in information, Jack had to nag the hell out of us for like 2 weeks before we finally took him to Walmart and purchased an Acer Chromebook. Which, I have to point out, he totally and completely loves. It's actually way more practical for a third-grader, not only because it is literally 1/10 of the price of a MacBook but also because the kids do everything through Google Apps at school, so when Jack logs in with his school gmail, he has access to every app his classroom and library use, and he's all logged in to all of his accounts from Pebble Grow to ABCya to Kahn Academy. It's awesome, actually. And the screen is HUGE. I highly recommend if you have a middle child you need to buy a computer for because you bought one for that child's older sibling.
2. In addition to the computer, I got this unbelievably sexy nightie and have plans to venture back to Wal Mart for another one or two. So cozy.
3. Saw the James Patterson Middle School movie with 4 other moms and 7 other kids-- all the moms cried. I was wiping my eyes and saying, "But I don't even like this movie." Also there a preview for a movie about dogs that made me cry in 3 separate places. IN THE PREVIEW. You watch it and see if you keep your shit together.
4. Had the sportiest Saturday ever with football, football, and baseball to fit in around the hellacious grocery shopping.
5. We picked some apples because why the hell not.
6. Jack used his Cub Scout Bear Handbook to make a perfect apple crisp with minimal help (I peeled the apples and cut in the butter).
7. I almost killed Beatrix by taking her on a walk. On Saturday morning, Ben and the kids got up early and went to campus for a debate tournament, and I was going out for my usual morning walk when I realized that the boys wouldn't be able to walk Beatrix. So, I decided to take her with me because I hear that's a thing that people do-- they walk their dogs. She LOVED IT. She trotted along happily the whole time and made sure to take a huge dump after we walked past all of the pet waste stations so I got to carry a (literally) steaming bag of shit for a couple of miles, but other than that, it was great. Sunday afternoon-- a sunny 63-degree day-- Harry and I took Beatrix for another walk, again for about an hour. 30 or so minutes into the trip, she started breathing really heavily and panting loudly, but this is not unusual for her-- she is a snorter and a snorer and a snuffler and we've all gotten used to her noises. After 10 minutes, though, Harry was a little worried. I made sure we were heading toward home (but we were at least 20 minutes away, especially since we had to slow down our pace after Beatrix slowed down her pace. I called Ben to come pick us up, but he was running errands with the other 3 kids and would be a little while. We had no choice but to plod on. 7 or so minutes from our house, Beatrix could go no further. She threw up a bunch of foam and I noticed her tongue was blue-ish black. I carried her for a few hundred feet, but 35 pounds of limp dog is a lot of limp dog. We waited the last few minute sin the shade for Ben to come get us, and I called the emergency vet who told us to come in immediately. It turns out, she had a temp of 105 (!) and was suffering from heatstroke. The vet gave her a sedative, some IV fluids, and a comfy bed surrounded by fans for a few hours and then sent her home with a bill for $300. Gah. A very expensive walk.
(Sidenote: My brother Ben killed our fat family beagle, Daisy, the same way. He took her for a walk, and she got overheated, and my dad saved her life by hosing her down until she stopped wheezing and panting. Then the next day Ben took her for ANOTHER GODDAMN WALK and this time she died on the table at the emergency vet's office and my mom cried and cried because she never got a chance to make Daisy her favorite spaghetti and meatballs one more time. I have learned from that tragedy and will never walk my fat dog again. Also, Daisy was mostly my brother Jon's dog, and he never would have let her be walked for the second, fatal time, but he was in the Bahamas with his friends celebrating high school graduation. A totally great trip until he came home to a dead dog and an empty garage stall because my parents sold his Beamer. And he never went on vacation again. J/K. But he did move to the east coast.)