it all started with an innocent trip to the midwife, and also a LAUNDRY TREE GIVEAWAY

Got Miss O on the bus, MIL took Wee Man to preschool and the H-Bomb for a ride in the wagon. I hopped in the car to have my 12 week checkup.

It began badly. As you may know, all trips to the obstetrician/midwife start in the bathroom. Providing a sample. Yes, of pee. They stick things in your pee and determine a host of things, none of which I care to discuss right now. And so I got my handy-dandy pee cup, and went over to the toilet. And then I stopped, gagged with abandon, and ran out of the bathroom. Except for the part where I couldn't unlock the door, because my mind's eye was focusing on the ENORMOUS ITEM left in the toilet, so I couldn't actually see the lock.

If you are assuming that the enormous item looked remarkably like poop, you are assuming correctly.

Then the pleasant nurse dressed in BRIGHT YELLOW SCRUBS informed me that my midwife was delivering a baby, and I'd be seeing the OB, if that was alright with me. Absolutely, sistah! It is alright, because when I am having my baby, I'm going to be the girl with the midwife in the room, and all the other girls can wait their turns.

He came in eventually, he being the OB, and he is a very nice man, and an excellent doctor, and it was good. He told me I would have my next ultrasound at 18-ish weeks along (about 5.5 weeks from now). That reminded me that my midwife told me at my last appointment that I needed a follow-up to my previous ultrasound, because the ultrasound person noticed a little bleeding in my uterus. And that I lost the prescription for said follow-up ultrasound. OOPS! I asked him to write another one, which he was happy to do.

Fabulous.

When I got to my car, I called the scheduling people at the hospital to, ummm, schedule the ultrasound. I gave her my name, birthdate, address, bank account numbers, children's social security numbers, etc, to confirm who I was. She asked me to read her the info on my prescription, and I did.

Apparently, OB had written a supersecret code on the paper that led the Scheduling Lady to believe I was having an obstetric crisis of mammoth proportion.

I had no idea what the heck she was talking about.

YOU ARE HIGH RISK!!! YOU MUST COME IN TODAY!!!

Who's high risk? I'm not high risk. I am having a very normal, average, relatively uneventful pregnancy.

YOU ARE HIGH RISK!!! DR. OB SAID SO!!! THAT IS WHAT THE CODE MEANS!!!

Nobody said anything to me about being high risk.

WELL, IT SEEMS THAT YOU ARE.

Slowly, slowly, my brain got very twisty and confused. I got stress in me. I started to become edgy and unpleasant. And I was pretty pissed at Dr. OB. Because why is this random Scheduling Lady giving me MY OWN MEDICAL INFORMATION?!?!?!

?!?!?!?

I scrambled, and by scrambled, I mean my fingers scrambled across my keypad as I texted and phoned everyone I know to find a warm body to hang out with the boys while I got ultrasounded.

Finally, finally, my heroine of the day called me back and said she'd love to help out. In the meantime, I had caused stress in, well, everyone I know, trying to find a sitter.

I got to the appointment, and the Ultrasound Lady was very confused by me. She was expecting a crazy, weepy pregnant woman in the very throes of a miscarriage or some other pregnancy nightmare. All she got was me, tired and not sure of what was going on, or what the problem was.

It was just weird.

I am very thankful and happy to tell you that the one baby in my belly is alive and well, kicking and moving about like a happy little creature. And there is no bleeding. And no crisis.

And when I got home, I did call my midwife to tell her about the ridiculousness that was my day, because I don't think that everything went as it should have gone. And I did cry on the phone with her, out of frustration and relief and exhaustion.

I took a little nap, and then made some macaroni and cheese (elbow pasta, milk, butter, salt, white pepper, cheddar and ricotta cheeses). Because nothing says "I am sorry you had a bad day" better than some serious, cheesy comfort food.

Well, a Maker's Mark and coke would be pretty good, too, but I've had enough excitement for one day.

*I know this isn't my usual tone, and it's probably not funny, and that is okay with me. It was a craptastic day, and sometimes the best I can do is craptastic.

And in honor of my craptastic day, I have teamed up with the folks from Laundry Tree and am giving away some supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Soap Nuts over the weekend. Laundry Tree loves the dayton time, and is giving two lucky commenters the entire Soap Nuts Starter Kit, with enough Soap Nuts to do 40 loads of laundry, your choice of essential oil, an extra wash bag, and a sample bag to share with a friend.

I'll accept entries for the giveaway until 12:01 a.m. Tuesday, September 30, and will determine the TWO winners sometime during the day Tuesday. To enter? Leave me a comment here, in this post. About what? you ask? Whatever you want. Tell me anything, and you'll be entered. The two winners will be chosen at random. Randomly. By a random method. Listen to the meaning there, not the actual words I used. That'dbesuperthanks.

In the meantime, I am going to take the weekend off. The fabulous Auntie Teff is coming to town, and we are going to do some serious organizational work on my house. I will see you all again on Tuesday, when I announce the lucky winners.

Try not to miss me.