Weirdest. Day. Ever.

So yesterday was just one of those days. I don't know how or why or who chose it to be so, but it just was.

Started out fine. Did the morning routine and dropped Wyatt off at pre-school. Drove to my 36-week Dr. appointment.(!) Checked in.  "Hi, I'm here for my 9:50 with Dr. Q."

"Oh.... .hmmm..." she says and goes to the computer.  They are not the brightest lightbulbs so I didn't bat an eye but this should have tipped me off.

"He actually depoloyed last week. Your appointment was changed to 1:10 today."

I'm sorry.  Did you just say deployed?

So now I have no husband and no doctor and I am on an island.  SWEET.

"Does that time work for you? We're pretty booked. It might be awhile."

Well, I'm pretty pregnant.  So I guess it's going to have to work.

I call Jen and she says she can pick Wyatt up from school for me. Great. Fine. Wonderful. I leave and run some errands. Well, sort of errands. One could call them shopping errands.  One of which had me thinking I was on candid camera. I had been trying on a shirt in the dressing room of this store so I would have something to wear to my baby shower on Saturday, and when I came out, there was this uber-skinny American lady fashionizing in the mirror. She stops me and says, "Can you give me your honest opinion?  I mean, really honest opinion. Does this look okay?"

I felt like a man cornered by his wife when she asks, "Does this make me look fat?"

Never in a MILLION YEARS would I try on, purchase, or even consider an outfit such as this.  She's got on a spandex strappy, navy blue tank and a pair of those "stretchy" jeans that do not look like jeans, but more like a piece of rubber stretched over your skin so tight it may actually burst if you eat so much as a lollipop.  The jeans are light blue with navy piping or trim.  She has no shoes on.  She is skinny, but not tone.  This is not a good combination.

"Umm.... well, where are you wearing this outfit to?" I dumbly ask, not wanting to tell her the truth.  I am hoping, praying that the mirror is a 2-way mirror and that some famous guy will jump out of it and tell me I'm on candid camera.

"Well, you know, just around," she says.

"Hmm... are you going to wear shoes?"

"Yeah, I figure I'll just wear boots over the stretchy jeans.  You know, like tall boots with really high heels on them."

Of course.  That would make all the fashion sense in the world.

"Yes," I say, "I think you would have to wear boots with those pants."

"So you think it looks ok?" she asks, clearly admiring herself in the non-2-way mirror.

Hard swallow. "Yeah, I think so...sure," I lie.

For the love of Pete!  What am I supposed to say?!?  I literally ran out of the dressing room to safety.

I head home and my cell phone rings; it is the Preschool telling me Wyatt has had an allergic reaction to something he ate.  He's fine, but no further details. I go pick him up. The allergic reaction around his mouth has gone way but of course he wants to leave with me since I am there. Fine, whatevs.... 

I go to my NEW Dr. appt. and I happen to know him, sort of.  Like Dr. Q, he lives in my neighborhood too, and his kids play with mine on the playground.  Sweet.  Why doesn't every doctor in my neighborhood just come line up and see my vagina?!  How awkward!

We chit chat and do the usual routine stuff, then he measures me. Hmm. Seems I haven't grown any since my last appointment... which was, coincidentally, the day before my car accident.  Double sweet.  The concern is that I and the baby are measuring "too small."  This earns me a trip to L&D to do some fetal monitoring, which turns out to be fine, but they also set me up with an appt. for a growth scan the next day (today) at 11 a.m. and a return visit to see my new Dr. to follow up.  Swell.

I return home to a lack of internet and phone line AGAIN.  Jen and I plow around the house resetting every electrical box, router, modem, and tech gadget we have. Eventually we bring everything back to life, but then I start getting crank phone calls.  Four of them. From untraceable numbers.  At the age of nearly 32.

I cannot make this stuff up, people.  I only tell you what is my life.

This goes on until Jen calls me from home, telling me there is a prenatal massage appointmnet opening in 20 minutes and did I want to go?

Hell, yes.  Sayonara.

Have I mentioned that Jen is my favorite person on this island?  She is. She is amazing.  Thank you Jen!!

After the massage, Wyatt and I had a yummy dinner at she & Kyle's house.  I came home, answered more crank calls, and called it a day.  A day that began and ended well, but not one I want to repeat.  It was just WEIRD!  How does this stuff happen to me?!?

P.S. If you are wondering - the growth scan went fine today.  Baby is weighing in at approximately 5 lb, 10 oz right now so hopefully everything else is on track too.  Will keep you posted.  No worries, though.  Everything so far is turning out fine!