If you have read my blog more than four times you should know how I feel about housework. You are also familiar with my abhorrence of cleaning. I am assuming you know of my financial state as well.

When you are a broke slacker mom, you must plan ahead some.

Notice that the heap isn’t any thing of mine. It is all clothes I need to save for my children. the right side are hand-me-down from neighbors and friends for Fluffy. The left side is full of generous gifts from my interweb friends and a few things that survived from Fluffy to pass to Bear.

As messy as the heap looks, it is organized. Each size has its own box and tops and bottom are sorted. My girls have always outgrown the tops before the bottoms. For instance, Bear is wear 4/5 tops and 3T bottoms right now.

There is no excuse for the mess of shoes. Whenever I want a particular pair I end up searching through this mess then under beds and couches. Not so fun. When I reach my breaking point I make sorting shoes a game for Fluffy. first, we have “Shoe Patrol.” Wherein she scours the house for my shoes. then comes the “Match Game” segment that has here pairing them up and putting them into the little used shoe rack in the back of my closet.She always gets a fabulous prize. Lollipops, cookies or earrings do the trick.

I could tell from the look on his face that the report was bad. I began to panic when he said “I can’t believe I haven’t seen this until now.”

The rest is a blur. The films showed a tremendous expansion of black space in Bear’s brain. A problem that should have been addressed 9 months before. It involved a stat MRI and emergent visit with our area’s neurosurgeon. There were phone calls and film transfers. Terms like “fenestration” and “peritoneal” were used in discussions. My stress level went through the roof.

If I was struggling prior, I was drowning now. Did I mention my husband was working two states away? I was in the middle of parent-teacher conferences at work. My mom stepped in and got Bear to her MRI. I took calls from the neurosurgeon between Kindergarten Readiness meetings. My heart is racing as I type this.

Bear has an arachnoid cyst in her brain. Arachnoid cysts are pockets of fluid that form in the lining of the brain. Millions of babies are born every year with them and never know about them their entire life. bear was not so lucky. It is the educated guess of many medical professionals that her disabilities are directly and indirectly related to this cyst. The cyst was originally found at 8 weeks of age. Her neurologist sent us directly to a pediatric neurosurgeon for a more detailed evaluation. At that time, the cyst was small but precariously positioned. He felt that the risk of surgery far outweighed the current minimal dangers. All risk was purely speculative at that point.

Now all of the risks were real. The cyst was bigger than a plum and pressing on her optic nerve. It is located in a region of the brain called the posterior fossa. This part of the intercranial cavity in the center of the head where the three brains meet. The cerebellum, medulla and pons meet. This is the “operation center” of the brain. Apparently, when she had a growth spurt so did her cyst. Oh, no.

We were now dealing with a huge potential for debilitating sensory and motor function loss. The cyst is on the right side, thus explaining the left eye issue. To make matters worse, the she had increased hydrocephaly. The call came Friday afternoon as I finished up the conferences. After a review from her original neurosurgeon and close comparison with her previous films, he scheduled her for surgery the following Monday.

“Wait!” I shouted, “here dad is not here. He is in California. Does he need to come home immediately? He will be home in 3 weeks.” After a few moments he said she that as long was not showing any signs of distress we could postpone it until Dad came home but not a moment later.

Those three weeks between that call and her surgery were pivotal. As at that time every year, I received my intent form for the next year. It was made clear to me that I was welcome to continue my morning class or take an opening in the daycare. Under no circumstances would I be hired to teach two classes. I did some soul searching, budget analysis and marathon phone calls to my husband. It took us seven days to decide.

I turned in my form with ” I do not plan to return to my position at XX school for the 2006-2007 school year.” I was both relieved and frightened. I knew that I was not surviving the limbo. I knew it was best for my girls for me to not be perpetually stressed. I knew Bear need to be in a more loving environment during the day.

Her surgery came and went. Basically, she now has a pressure valve (shunt) implanted in her skull behind her right ear. If fluid builds up beyond a certain millimeter of mercury, the valve opens and. drains the excess down a tube into her abdomen. She improved literally overnight. Her therapists noticed improved coordination. Her unexplainable fussing ceased. She could sit up longer. Her left eye settled down. She was happier and so was I.

I stayed at the school through the summer. I worked a tiny part-time job the following year so Fluffy could take swimming and gymnastics lessons. at a reduced rate. I left in August of last year. This is summer off idea is completely foreign to me. I’ll get used to it soon enough.