That Friday, I was dizzy and sick to my stomach with what felt like food poisoning, only sometimes my chest throbbed. I declined my husband's offer of a ride to the emergency room because I had to prepare for a crucial school meeting on Monday.
Our six-year-old son, a gifted child with a disability, had been repeatedly sent home for eloping from class and disruptive behavior. The school had laid a paper trail to ship him to a more restrictive program across town, but I was blocking the exits. My goal for Monday was to keep him in his class and get him support to develop coping skills. I was afraid he would learn to hate school.
While I liked my new job, day care kept evaporating. One after-school program kicked our son out without notice while my husband was out of the country. Our kid had already trashed the other semi-affordable options. Hey, but what working mom isn't stressed? It seemed that whenever I solved one problem, another wrapped a tentacle around my leg to drag me down.
[For more of this story, written by Wendy Wolfson, go to http://www.npr.org/blogs/healt...il-it-broke-my-heart]
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