Lilly as a Spanish princess, Jonah in his jammies, Adam without the Hobgoblin mask and Maggie, one sad starlet.

While scrambling to come up with Halloween costumes this time of year, I always reflect back to the snafus we’ve had in our house in past years.

One year I ordered costumes after Halloween for cheap that I was sure would go over the next year. One was an awesome Power Ranger costume. But Adam didn’t agree. He never said he didn’t like it, but I got the drift when he went into his room, cut “patches” out of paper, pinned them onto a sweatshirt and declared he was going to be a scarecrow. That Power Ranger costume is still hanging untouched in the closet.

One year Maggie picked a Hollywood starlet costume off the wall at Party City. She totally loved it, until it was time to put it on and go trick or treating. Not sure what the problem was — maybe the long sleeve shirt I made her wear under it — but she was totally in tears when everyone else was ready to head out.

That same year Adam picked out a scary hobgoblin mask. When it was time to go, there was no sign of the mask. Instead he was wearing an old Rastafarian hat with dreadlocks we picked up in Bermuda years before. Apparently, he didn’t like the smell of the mask. Against my better judgment, I bought him another mask again this year.

Jonah has the propensity to tire of costumes once he’s worn them to school. So there’s always last minute scrambling to put together something new to trick or treat in. My one rule about this is no money will be spent on a second outfit. Last year, he was a cowboy at school and put on his Incredible’s pajamas to trick or treat in. (Mr. Incredible, however, did wear cowboy boots).

Lilly is my only child who has strong ideas about what she wants to be and sticks with it. One year she made herself a ladybug costume. Another year, she picked out a Spanish princess dress. This year, she wanted to be a white dog with brown spots. She only wavered briefly when we walked by some princess hoop dresses on deep sale while looking for the brown fabric. Luckily, they were just a bit too small.

This blog is written by my co-editor, Cheryl Clemens:

Thirty-one years ago my best friend Beth and I went to see John Carpenter’s “Halloween” in the movie theater. We screamed, hid our eyes, held our breath in terror — everything you’d expect while watching a horror movie.

Flash forward to today. I just finished watching the movie again — this time it’s the edited for TV version — with my 14-year-old daughter. Her reaction has been quite different than mine.

When Michael Myers steps out from behind a tree, a screeching sound effect makes me jump. “Wow, that was a random noise,” she laughs. Laughs! “That sounded like a broken elevator or something.”

As one of the characters is strangled with a phone cord, Lucy watches in disbelief. “A phone cord? Is that even strong enough to kill someone?”

As Laurie, the heroine, searches through a dark, empty house where unknowingly her friends have been murdered, Lucy says, “You know, that’s a really cute outfit she’s wearing.”

At a commercial, I ask her if she’s scared. “I’m suspensed,” she answers, then adds a moment later (apropos of nothing), “I wonder how snakes pee.”

Michael Myers attacks Jamie Lee Curtis and slashes at her arm, causing her to tumble down the steps. Lucy laughs hysterically. “Oh, yea, like you’re really going to fall down the steps because your sleeve is ripped!”

Finally, at the very end, I could tell she was caught up in the horror aspect of the film during the he’s dead, he’s not dead, he’s dead, is he dead?, he’s not really dead sequence. She hid her eyes once and even jumped.

As the movie ends, Donald Pleasence stares off into space. I turn to look at Lucy to gauge her reaction. “Wow,” she says. “He looks just like my science teacher last year.”

Guess her generation has a different definition of horror than mine.

If they did this in grocery stores here — I’d look forward to going. Hey, I’d even take part! I often find myself singing to the tunes from the 80s they play at my store. This is much better. Anyone in?

Today’s blog was written by Harford Magazine Editor Jennifer Dansicker:

When most of us think of Scarlett fever, we recall poor sickly Beth March from the classic Louisa May Alcott novel “Little Women.”

So when my husband called me this past weekend as I was enjoying a little girl time in New York City for my birthday and told me that our pediatrician diagnosed our 6-year-old Henry with Scarlett fever, I was immediately shocked and panicked. Seconds later, my husband assured me that Henry was put on an antibiotic and that his recovery would most likely be swift and painless.

In the 1800s, those suffering from the disease were taken away in horse driven “fever cabs” and kept in isolation hospitals for weeks to prevent the infection from spreading. As an added precaution, all personal belongings burned.

And once a patient was diagnosed as having Scarlet fever, common treatment was followed by a period of blood letting. It was common for doctors to use a surgical knife to bleed a child until the lips and cheeks became pale and the child fainted.

Scarlet fever used to be a very serious childhood disease in children under the age of 10, but now it is easily treatable. As is usually the case, Henry had a 103 fever, a full body rash and tested positive for streptococcus. The combination of those three factors equaled a diagnosis of Scarlett fever.

After 36 hours of the antibiotic amoxicillin, Henry’s rash and fever had disappeared and he was back at school, healthy and happy.

This post is by my co-editor, Cheryl Clemens:

I don’t know about you, but I can’t take one more news piece about that silver balloon, a boy named Falcon and his attention-grubbing parents.

I take that back: Here’s one final news clip courtesy of CNN. It’s a funny take on a not-so-funny situation that includes all the best sound bites of the past week.

Enjoy!

I’ve always been a fan of the flu shot. But last year someone sent me this public service announcement from the CDC and I became even more of an advocate. It’s personal stories from families that lost a child because of the flu.

We got our regular flu shots last week. After, we went out to dinner to take the edge off. It was a fun family night out. 

Hopefully, we will be able to do the same thing in a few weeks when the H1N1 vaccine becomes available at our pediatrician’s office. Even if the chances are small that my kids might die from the flu — I’m not taking any chances. I wish you wouldn’t either.