...to tackle my house

...and I barely can walk in the living room still.

Today is a day that I have had little motivation to do much of anything.  It is rainy.  Gloomy.  I've had a headache all day.  My big toe hurts.  Blah, blah, blah.

I have little to show for my efforts.  Sure there's a bit of laundry done.  The kids ate three square meals today.  I ran.  They all were showered and shaved read to when they went to bed.  So why you ask does my living room still look like this?

Because I cannot figure out where to start!

This must be how Isabella feels when I tell her to clean her room.  The task is too overwhelming.  Too depressing.

Much like my afternoon.

I have been meaning to take Abbey in for her four-year-well-check.  I have been concerned the past two weeks or so that she has been really lethargic.  Every chance she gets she is resting on the floor or the couch sucking her thumb.  Even her teachers in school mentioned this.  Today we had an appointment with her pediatrician.

Personally I think it probably is just her.  She is probably just growing.  She always has been my sleeper.  But I wanted the doctor to look at some other things that may be causing this; especially since the onset is so recent.  I was thinking iron levels, mono, thyroid...

A little background on my experience with this doctor:  I have met her no less than four times in the past six weeks.  Every time is like the first time even though it was with the same child three times.  And today the fifth time, was no different.

Without much ado...Her diagnosis:  Abbey is on the road to obesity (her BMI is much too high) and she thinks she is depressed.  "Because depression is often overlooked in children".

Huh??

Thank goodness I didn't crumble into tears.  Had I not been caught so off guard I might have.  I was speechless and just listened.  My mind whirling with all of the questions she didn't ask or notice...for example, the last I checked I wouldn't be considered overweight.  Isn't obesity often inherited?

She asked if her dad is deployed.  Yes.  Why, yes he is.  He and 4000 other dads are on this post (at least).  That doesn't mean she is depressed.  Again isn't depression often inherited?  Do I appear to be depressed?  How about checking her other risk factors?

I should consider therapy she says.  Maybe.  But not after one quick judgement from someone who doesn't know my daughter or me.

Or maybe I just need a new doctor who doesn't jump to a couple of conclusions based on one rather uninformed visit (and one who does her reading(I don't know how credible this article is but I thought it pretty ironic that I just read it last week)).

So instead of finishing up my house tonight, I am wallowing in a little self-pity and a glass of Bailey's.  My favorite once-in-a-blue-moon-indulgence-because-I-forget-it-is-in-my-fridge.  Delicious.  And I am drafting my list for tomorrow putting three 'must-do's' on it.

1) Clear off counters in kitchen (and in the process find spots for all of the random holiday hoopla littering it)
2) Go to Post office (This will clear off the dining room table of three packages.)
3) Change Abbey's primary care doctor.

Pretty doable?