Saturday, November 24, 2007


I have spent the last few months in a totally exhausted state. I can’t seem to get enough sleep. I can’t focus. If I sit down, I drop off. I conk out during William Petersen on CSI. As you can see, this is quite serious.

I was telling this to my sister, who suggested that I get my thyroid checked. She told me, “Thyroid does run in the family.”

Just then, my girls came into the room, screaming hysterically and smacking each other, which is pretty much a standard method of communication for them. My sister added, “But then again, it may just be your life.”

I adore my doctor—he is a good physician and listens, one of those medical professionals who is so attentive that women find themselves babbling when they are in his office, basking in his interest and finally feeling validated. However, I am not sure he “gets it” about being a mom. I mean, suppose I am showing some physical symptoms. Could the symptoms be the reason for the tiredness? Or could they be caused by three kids, three Labrador retrievers, a full-time job, three years of dealing with parents with Alzheimer’s, a house, and so on?

One of the women at work was talking about a new diagnosis which her doctor thought might be related to this woman’s forgetfulness and distractibility. He called it Adult Onset Female Attention Deficit Disorder.

She looked at him and declared, “DUH! That’s called being a working mom.”

There you go.

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