I'm a working mom who's had no choice but to homeschool my kid. The government should offer more aid for families like mine.

• Melissa Petro is a freelance writer and mom of two based in New York.
• She's homeschooling her son as their district can't find a public school to meet his special needs.

Around Thanksgiving, my son's public preschool reduced his day from five to two hours due to behavioral issues. His behavior only worsened, until he was removed completely. After a flurry of evaluations, he was given a diagnosis.

As a child with a disability, he's entitled to services that will support and help him succeed in school. But according to the committee responsible for finding him a classroom appropriate for his special needs, because all public options are full it'll be at least another four months, making it eight months total that he's been out of the classroom.

Now more than ever, I think mothers like me should be reimbursed for every educational expenses our families take on to make up for lacking mandated services. Government assistance doesn't make everything better, but it would help ease the burden, create choices, and afford me some freedom.

Some folks feel ashamed about accepting entitlements, but the clue is in the name: I am entitled to every tax break and child care credit my government gives me.

Overnight, I became the only teacher my son has

Over a decade ago, I left elementary-school teaching and built a successful career as a freelance writer. But lately it's back to teaching.

I'm up at 5 a.m. reading everything I can about learning differences so that I can address my son's lagging skills and engage him in sensory play. On top of that, I'm researching schools that might be right for my child in the hopes of speeding up the process of getting him back into a classroom.

Some days homeschooling is invigorating. My kid's smart and I love seeing him learn. But just as often as I feel inspired, I also feel demoralized, hopeless, and exhausted.

When it comes to shouldering labor, I know I'm not alone

Women everywhere and mothers especially — probably since the beginning of time — have been burdened with invisible labor that's largely taken for granted but nonetheless keeps our economy afloat.

Everyone says it takes a village to raise a child, but during COVID-19 many of us moms have had to become the whole village on our own and shoulder responsibilities that are traditionally shared with professionals.

We've cared for sick family members when hospitals were at capacity. When childcare facilities and schools closed, we had to step up to meet all of our children's educational, social, and emotional needs.

In 2015, I was a finalist for a PEN "Emerging Writers" award. Rather than emerge, it sometimes feels as if I've been watching "Paw Patrol" for the better part of the last four years. It feels like I'm financially invisible, despite the fact that the work I do is priceless.

Money doesn't make everything better, but it certainly helps

Money can ease the strain and, to a certain extent, restore dignity. But watching the Senate pick apart and essentially kill Biden's Build Back Better bill, I felt utterly debased. The act would have greatly expanded childcare assistance and extended the child tax credit my family had come to rely on.

There is money available — all they have to do is allocate it.

The state education agency in Texas, for example, is offering parents of disabled kids one-time grants of up to $1,500 to use for therapy, tutoring, and other services. If there were a program like this in my state of New York, we'd put that money towards my kid's costly art therapy sessions. He goes once a week, and it's his only contact with an adult besides his parents.

The good news: I found a private school for kids with special needs and they have an immediate opening. The bad news: Tuition is $64,000 a year. Do I put it on a credit card, hire a lawyer, and sue my public school district for reimbursement? Or continue absorbing the enormous responsibility of teaching my son myself for free?

According to one analysis, if women worldwide were paid minimum wage for their unpaid care work and household labor, they'd be owed $10.9 trillion.

I don't have a full-time "job," but I'm literally doing the job of a hundred different people. Where's my check?