Somehow, I let two weeks vanish. I just realized that I haven’t posted in that long. And though I didn’t plan a post, here one is.

It’s Halloween.  My son wore his red jammies, devil horns, and a tail, and we took him to five houses (one of which was my parents’) so that he could collect his bounty of candy.

This was his second Halloween costume in as many days.  Yesterday, his preschool had a little costume carnival, and I knew that if I sent him in devil horns and a tail, he’d rip them off in a hurry.  So I put him in a costume he wouldn’t suspect – some jeans and a plaid shirt – and I attacked him with eyeshadow to give him a tiny beard and mustache. I thought, hey, this counts – he’s a lumberjack, right?  And then I put a winter hat on him, and what he actually looked like was Jayne, from Firefly, which made me wish I’d thought to dress him up like Jayne in the first place.  Ah well.  Next year.

Now, as you know if you read this blog, I’ve been worried about finding a balance between writing, teaching, and mothering.  On Tuesday afternoon, I received two e-mails in quick succession: the first was from a now-former colleague who is out on maternity leave and has decided not to return to work because she wants to stay home with her son; the second was from my son’s preschool inviting the parents to the class Halloween party on Wednesday morning.

Together, these two e-mails left me feeling miserable.  I love my son so much.  And there is no way – just no way – that I can quit my job to be with him.  It’s great that some moms have that option, but I don’t, which means I have to miss things in my son’s life.  Lots of things.  Like Halloween parties on Wednesday mornings.

But I don’t have to miss everything.  After reading those e-mails and feeling miserable for a little while, I reminded myself that this year is about balance.  And if I wanted to find balance, I was going to have to steal it.  So I found a willing substitute, and I called in sick to work.

Honestly, I think it counts. If I’d gone to work, I would have been sick all day, regretting the choice.

For the record, the Halloween carnival was adorable.  The best part – the best part – was when I walked into preschool and my son, who was not expecting me to show up there again, lit up with joy and ran for me, shouting, “TRICK OR TREATING AT PRESCHOOL!” and then grabbed my hand and tugged me along the hallway for some – you guessed it – trick-or-treating at preschool.

It was worth it.

Happy Halloween.