"Put your forks down, kids, Mama's fixin' to lose her mind!"

In my year as a stay-at-home-mom, I've learned many things. The best way to clean a filthy high chair tray is to put it in the dishwasher. The moment you get the baby down for a nap, the landscaping crew shows up with more lawnmowers than Southwest Airlines has 737's. "No TV for the baby" means no TV for Mom and Dad either. These little pearls of wisdom have been attained with many a frazzled sigh, and even a few tears.

But today I learned something that surprised me even more than the time we woke up to find Caitrin had ripped her diaper off and had poo in every orifice. Because I am an SAHM, my time is not valuable to anyone but me. Backstory: this morning I had an appointment at 9:15 in Annapolis, which, for the uninitiated, is a mere 15 miles away but a half hour's drive with all the Route 97 & West Street traffic. Since everything takes longer once you have kids, I started our day earlier than normal. To add evidence to my assertion that Caitrin is scary-brilliant for her age, it was as if she sensed we were pressed for time and put her brakes on. Instead of wolfing her breakfast as usual, it was one bite, and talk for several minutes. Another bite, and bang on the high chair tray. Miraculously, we were out the door at 8:35, just 5 minutes later than I had hoped. It felt like a guardian angel was looking out for me when a prime parking spot opened up in the garage just as I was pulling up. Okay, I thought, the day started out a little harried, but things are looking up!

I grabbed baby, Hotsling and stroller and we made our way to the doctor's office. By now we were edging up on Caitrin's naptime and she was happy but restless. We walked in and the receptionist's first words were, "we tried to call you on Monday...your appointment had to be rescheduled." I felt my blood boil, but maintained my composure. Come to find out, their attempt to contact me had failed because they called an incorrect variation on our home number (which doesn't work anyway since we only use it for DSL now), and (AND THIS WAS THE KICKER) Medallion. Upon hearing that I (stupidly) reminded them that I'm no longer working. I swear I could feel the Earth's axis tilt when the words came out of my mouth, and the atmosphere changed immediately. There was no "I'm sorry for the inconvenience" or "if you don't mind waiting, we'll try to work you in." No, sir. It was, "...but the doctor has some openings tomorrow."

It was at that moment that I was eternally grateful I had my innocent baby daughter perched on my hip, because if you could've peered inside my brain you'd have seen something like this: @!$%& *&^+$# ^&~#*&%$#!!!!! I successfully stopped these words from making it to my mouth and rescheduled the appointment for tomorrow. On my way back to the car I took a sidebar and called Sean, because I was about to blow. Bless him, he talked me down out of the wacko tree. Mind you, Caitrin's morning nap never did happen. And you know what nap zealots we are.

What gets me is that, had I still been working and left my "real job" to go to the appointment-that-wasn't, I'll bet you Donald Trump's salary they'd have fit me in. But, see, I don't do anything. I sit on the couch all day and watch soaps, remember? So it doesn't matter whether I'm notified that I needn't waste three hours and a quarter tank of gas and frig up my baby's naptime.

There. I am severing ties with sarcasm for the rest of the day.