My Biggest Parenting Fears~Her View From Home

I recently wrote about a huge fear that I have about my youngest son. But honestly, my worrying doesn't stop there. I worry about a lot of things.

All of the Hurricane Sandy stories I have been hearing make me remember how I felt when Hubby and I lived in Long Beach, New York. I had three babies under the age of two - a newborn and 19-month-old twins, all of whom obviously and completely depended on me for everything. Hubby was frequently gone for days at a time in this borough or that, on call, saving the masses by pulling rotten teeth. I often thought about various scenarios and what on earth I would do should they play out.

One was where the hell I would go if I needed to evacuate our seaside community. Where would this Nebraska girl and her three babies go by themselves to be safe in a place that was unfamiliar to us without Hubby's voice of logic guiding us.

I can't imagine.

I also used to get mini-panic attacks while driving the Meadowbrook Parkway to and from Target and the Mall. It was surrounded by water on both sides for part of the way. I would imagine what would happen if my car should go out of control and plunge into the water. How would I save all three of my children?

I know this sounds extreme, but I heard on the news this morning that this happened to a mom in the throes of Hurricane Sandy. She was driving with her 2 and 4 year old sons and became stuck in rising water. As they tried to escape, her sons were washed away, and still haven't been found.

My heart is devastated for that mom, absolutely broken.

The storm has presented extreme situations, but what about the everyday? What about when we look to the future and wonder if we're doing it all right now, assuring our children's safety and success?

Today, on Her View From Home, I'm sharing some of my biggest parenting fears - read it here. I'm sure there are more; in fact, when I was writing the post, I kept adding more.  Come read and comment and share some of your biggest fears. (Please tell me you have some, too??)

Here's hoping all of you have a fun and safe Halloween with your families, and that those of you affected by Sandy are managing and getting the help you need.

Love and hugs and always prayers, my friends.

It's Not Enough, SeaWorld

So, I've been waiting to write this post about SeaWorld San Diego for three weeks now. I've been waiting to hear back from SeaWorld San Diego about an incident that happened to my family there - at SeaWorld San Diego.

And I've finally heard back from SeaWorld San Diego about the incident that happened there - at SeaWorld San Diego. So now I'm going to tell you about what happened at SeaWorld San Diego and how I feel about it.

(I am not nuts. I'm just trying to put "SeaWorld San Diego" in this post as many times as I can so it will get picked up by search engines. So people will read this and it will somehow affect SeaWorld San Diego in the hopes that they will actually do something about "the situation" <--- Oh, and no, not the Jersey Shore Situation. Wrong SEO. I'm totally getting off track here....)

Anyway . . .so my family took a much needed vacation to San Diego a few weeks ago. We had a really nice time. We stayed at a nice resort where the boys could play in the sand near the water, we went to Coronado Beach (gorgeous beach, quaint and darling town), and went to LegoLand (we LOVED LegoLand, so perfect for our kids' ages as they are obsessed with Legos right now and the rides were just their size).

And of course we went to SeaWorld San Diego.

We had gone to SeaWorld Orlando on our Make-A-Wish trip with Joey. We thought it was okay (probably just the circumstance under which we were there). Since Slim is also obsessed with sharks and other underwater creatures, SeaWorld San Diego was a must.

We were impressed with many aspects of our visit. The park was immaculately clean, the shows were darling, and every single employee - from clerks to custodians to guest relations - was beyond friendly, helpful, and smiling. Hubby and I kept commenting to each other all day about this.

The day after we were at SeaWorld San Diego, PETA was to be protesting there about the treatment of its killer whales. From what I understand, this is not the first time SeaWorld has come under criticism.

Of course, every bit of evidence we saw was to the contrary - happy, loving trainers and workers reminding visitors to be careful with the animals and smiling even as kids (mine) interrupted their prepared speeches about the animals.

We became aware that a television crew was on site filming a commercial for SeaWorld. In general, I found these people to be a little blunt, cold, and almost annoyed by the presence of visitors. One sign in the turtle house read, "Television filming in progress. If you don't want to be on camera, then stay out!" Or, seriously, something to that effect. So we stayed away. I didn't want my kids to get yelled at or anything.

So, later, we were walking by another location where filming was taking place. It was off to the side and gated. As we were walking, Slim was slightly behind us, walking in his Slim way, looking at the ground not paying attention at all.

I saw a woman sitting in a director's chair pointing at him and talking to the man next to her. I kept looking at her to see what she might be talking about.

And then "the incident" occured.

Slim wandered aimlessly in the direction of the gated off area. A SeaWorld employee, who obviously drew the short straw and was assigned to be the minion protecting the gate of hell, quickly steered him away.

Without missing a beat, Slim changed direction and followed us. No harm, no foul. Right?

Wrong. Not according to the director chair bitch who is probably related to some other bitch who has been in the news lately.

This woman, who had been pointing at Slim, then took her fingers, shaped them into a gun, and pantomimed shooting Slim!

I am shaking again, even as I write this.

I mean WHAT. THE. FUCK??? (And you should know people, I hardly ever drop the F-bomb. This is how upset I still am about this.)

The child did absolutely nothing wrong. This is my child who IS likely to bust in somewhere and interrupt; but he didn't even do that, so WHAT ON EARTH was this woman thinking??

I was livid, and stunned. I stood there and stared at her, and she stared back at me with a smirk on her face. I did the only thing I could think to do at the time - I flipped her off and kept walking, hugging Slim to me  (thank God neither he nor the other boys had seen what she'd done).

I was shaking as I told Hubby about it moments later - I wish he had seen because he would have yelled at her all of the things I then thought about yelling, two minutes too late.

In this day and age of social media, he suggested going back and taking her picture and putting it all over YouTube and Twitter and my blog. I was too chicken of a confrontation, though. I am so not a confrontational person. Plus, I didn't want to get us kicked out of the park.

And let me tell you, it absolutely RUINED the rest of my day. I couldn't stop shaking and thinking about it.

Of course I filled out an incident report at Guest Services and went home with plans of writing about it and submitting it all over the web (if only I had the bitch's picture!).

But, I waited to see what SeaWorld's response would be.

After all, SeaWorld is obviously a family friendly place. They want families there, so to allow a person from a company hired by SeaWorld to do this, is unfathomable.

Right?

Three weeks later, I got a short letter as a response:

Dear Ms. Frog:

Thank you for your correspondence. We greatly appreciate you sharing your concerns with us. I am terribly sorry for your experience during your recent visit to our park. We agree; the action you described by a member of the production crew is unacceptable. We are following up with the agency that coordinated and oversaw this commercial filming production as this type of behavior will not be tolerated.

Again, I want to genuinely apologize for the behavior of the member of the production crew and express how sorry we are that it detracted from your family's experience while visiting the park.

Sincerely,
Dave Koontz
SeaWorld San Diego

Well played, Dave Koontz's administrative assistant. This is exactly what a mom would want to hear.

However, for me, it is not enough. I am a mom, darn it. I want to know how this production company was punished, not that they got a "talking to." I want to know that you stood up for a family at your park and fired this company for not adhering to your family values.

Do you think I'll ever hear back from Mr. Koontz about the final outcome?

No, I don't either.

Some people might say, 'Oh, Kathy, just let it go. That's just how the world is.' But I don't want to let it go, nor do I want to simply accept that people are just rude. I, for one, am tired of rude people. I don't accept that it is okay to be rude to someone just because you do not know them, so what does it matter?

Well, it matters. It matters how you treat people, especially children. Especially in this gun-crazed, psycho pedophile, terrorist-laden society - yes, it matters.

We cannot let rudeness and ugliness become standard behavior just because that is what most people are doing. What happened to smiles and kindness? What happened to helping and caring for all people? What happened to acceptance and understanding?

I could have been one of those people who took this to the media. I'm sure they would have jumped on this story given the problems SeaWorld was experiencing that week. But that's not what I wanted. I wanted to know what would be done.

And I'm still asking, what is going to be done? That behavior is offensive and scary and stupid, and the fact that an adult did it toward a child who was doing nothing wrong is even more disturbing. It shouldn't be allowed to continue, and it should be known that it will not be tolerated. After all, it is California. Production companies must be a dime a dozen. I just want to know that SeaWorld is spending its dime on a different production company.

The woman who did this will never get punished, but I want her to know that her actions lost her company a job. I want people to know that their actions do have consequences, because, after all, isn't that what we're all trying to teach our children?

I think I'll keep Mr. Koontz's name on file and follow up with him in a few weeks. I think he thought he heard the last of this when he asked his AA to draft a letter to this crazy mom.

But I'm not done because it's not enough.


What do you think I should do? Just drop it and accept the apology, or follow up and find out what happened to the production company?

Why Can't I Stop Worrying?

When it comes to worrying, I'm definitely the mother of all worriers. Although I have been a bit of a worrier my entire life, I believe that some of my worrying as of late is rather justified given the tragedy that has befallen my family.

I can talk myself out of some of the worry ('That's just ridiculous, Kathy, you're being silly.') and Hubby can logic me out of a lot of it ('Why are you worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet and may never happen?).

But sometimes a worry just grabs hold of me, right in the guts, and won't let go no matter what I think or do.

This particular worry is about Baby E. Today, he is 16 months old. And he is the most darling toddler I currently know.

And more than all the other boys, he reminds me the most of Joey.

Not necessarily in looks - that honor goes to Knox; in fact, sometimes I have to do a double take when I look at him.

I'm talking about his personality. Baby E is so busy and curious and happy. And he loves people. He will go right up to another child and offer him something or he will smile at and reach for adults.

He is a complete Mama's boy who also adores his Daddy and wants to do everything he does.

Just like someone else I used to know.

And the hugs he gives! It is well known in our family that the best hug to ever have received was a Joey hug. That kid gave The. Best. Hugs. Sincere, genuine and tight.

Baby E's are identical.

He's 16 months old, People, and he gives tight, sincere, purposeful hugs. And when he does that, I melt into those hugs, and I stand still no matter what needs to be done next or how soon it needs to be done.

And I think how like Joey that is. My heart and stomach fill with a comfortable warmth, but only momentarily. Then the worry douses that warmth with an icy sickness that says, 'So what will happen to Baby E?' That question is left nagging in my head, and I hold on out of sadness and panic.

I can't help it. It happens all the time. Every time I make a connection between Joey and Baby E, I feel it. I feel a fear that something will happen to him just because I love him too much.

I worry about the three other boys, too - believe me! Every time they complain of a tummy ache, a toe ache, especially a headache, I worry until that ache goes away.

But Baby E has come after Joey, a surprise gift sent to help heal me. And that he has. My heart is less bitter and my mind is starting to acknowledge God again, even if some days it is to curse Him.

Sometimes, when I am alone with Baby E and he does something Joeyish or gives me a certain familiar look, I will stare into his eyes and whisper, "Joey?" I know that sounds like I am off my rocker. Maybe it is wishful thinking that God sent him back to me. That He gave me a second chance to be a better mom (at which I'm still failing miserably some days).

I always joke that Joey's and E's souls met in Heaven, and that Joey gave him the scoop about us. Some days, I really believe it's true.

Last night, Hubby sweetly offered to clean up the kitchen after dinner so I could play outside with the boys. Baby E was climbing up and down the slide like a pro, kicking the soccer ball, having a blast. I remember when Joey was exactly this age he started climbing on the swing set. I was terrified he would fall, but Hubby just let him go.

When Baby E does cute and funny things, like putting a bucket on his head and talking to himself to hear the echo and then giggles hysterically, we look at each other - Hubby and me - and say, "You know who else used to do that? Joey." We'll answer in unison.

It was dusk last night, and we were ready to go inside. I had Pandora on a kids' station and our favorite song from the Madagascar movies came on.

We all broke out into a dance party - Joey style (forget Gangnam Style - Joey had it going on). And do you know what? That little turkey Baby E was busting a move right along with us. He was dancing and giggling and probably looking forward to the next dance party.

And as I laughed and danced, I felt that panic rise in my stomach again. I wanted to go over and scoop him up and put a shield of armour all around him, that psychic's prediction ringing in my head.

But I can't. I couldn't with Joey, and I can't with my other boys, my Hubby, my parents, or with anyone else I love.

And I also can't spend my time worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet . . .or might not ever.

Right?


Do you have reoccurring worries about your family? Or am I just crazy?

We're More Alike Than Different

I've spent the better part of my life comparing myself to other people and coming up short every time. Someone else was always prettier than me, smarter than me, more talented, more popular, whatever.

That has not stopped now that I am an adult. She is thinner than me, a better mother than me, more successful than me.

This even extends, unfortunately, to my children. That kid is more well-adjusted than my kid, that kid is a better athlete than my kid, that kid is more normal than my kid.

Why, oh, why, have I not learned that this is a waste of my precious time and sanity?

Appearances can be so deceiving, people. We all know that. We've all fallen victim to the "highlight reel" of someone else's life via Facebook. The beautiful family pictures, vacation photos, status about someone's wonderful husband, perfect kids, or killer run (gag).

But what is really hiding there in the shadows? Is everything as it seems? Or does everyone have flaws and "issues?"

I think the answer to that is a big fat "Yeppers!"

I worry a lot about my son Slim. About him fitting in, having friends, being quirky, not being like all the other kids.

He has a lot of qualities that I had when I was growing up. I preferred to stay inside reading a book rather than playing with my siblings and the neighborhood kids. I loved television and would recite commercials and jingles. I didn't like crowds of kids all competing to talk. And I was never one of the cool kids.

I went with Slim's third grade class to the zoo this week. All 90 kids were in small groups of about five or six with one adult. I wasn't going to chaperon because I didn't have a babysitter for Lil' C and Baby E. But every day in Slim's assignment notebook was a note from him saying, "Please come to the zoo, Mom."

How could I possibly say no to that sweetness? Plus, I figured I could help keep an eye on Slim so he wouldn't wander off from the group. So, I told the teacher we would meet the class at the zoo and walk along with the group.

Over the course of the day, I noticed things that I have noticed before, but they were needed reminders for me. At times, like during lunch with 90 chaotic children, Slim was walking along the outside edge of the group, picking up all the lunch trash that was getting blown by the gusty winds. So, he was alone, but doing something good.

And even though he wasn't hanging out with a group of guys, from every group that passed by us came genuine calls of, "Hi Slim!" The kids in his group were even asking him some questions about animals because they know how much he loves and knows so much about so many of them.

And in looking around at the other children, there were some other odd little ducks as well - kids with their own sets of quirky behaviors.

And there were kids who were naughty and out of line in what they were doing. And if their moms would have been there, they would have been appalled.

My child, well, he was a perfect angel all day. It was just his kind of field trip. His kind of perfect day looking at animals on a day that the zoo was not crowded at all.

Photo by Stuart Semple featured
on veggierevolution.blogspot.com

Pretty "normal" stuff.

Yep, he's pretty much a normal eight-year-old kid. Because they all have quirks, you know.

We all have quirks, you know.

And that makes us all more alike than different.

A lot of the animals had babies with them. I am always fascinated watching the interaction of mama animals with their babies. There was a mama monkey who had two young monkeys swinging and playing near her while she watched. The smaller of the two swung over to her and started climbing on her. She pushed him away and bared her teeth at him.

What a bitch, I thought as a first reaction.

But then, this little monkey started to fall off the branch, and the mama caught him and held on to him until he was steady. And then she pulled him in to a quick little hug.

And my heart melted into a knowing smile. I saw myself in that mama. My kids bug me when they won't knock off their crazy behavior, but I adore them and would do anything to keep them safe.

I am not a monkey, nor am I skinny or perfect or any other woman but me. Just because I don't know someone well or at all, doesn't mean that I can't find a connection between us. That I can't find something that is alike about us rather than all the ways we are different, just as Slim is more like kids his age than he is different.

And at a time when everyone wants to be different and distinguish themselves from everyone else, I tend to think that it would help us all, as children and adults, to see ourselves as not so different from one another after all.



What about you? Are you more comfortable being different and unique or alike and blending in?

Let's talk about it on Facebook!

Simply Slim Part 3: I Should Never Doubt Him

My eight-year-old son, Slim, is . . . unique, to say the least. I knew he would be that day long ago when I was twenty weeks pregnant and the doctor said to Hubby and me, "Baby B has a complete bilateral cleft lip and palate."

I didn't quite know what that meant, but over the next fourteen and a half week weeks, I learned from Hubby, who was an oral surgery resident, just what it would entail. Read Simply Slim Part 1 and Part 2 to find out.

Everyone who meets Slim has one of two reactions: they are either delighted by his quirky personality or completely puzzled by his behavior. There really is no in between. I find myself constantly apologizing for him or explaining him. He is such a bright, smart, creative child, but he definitely has his own interests and own way of looking at the word.

You either "get" this or you don't. And what I worry about the most as he gets older are his teachers and classmates.

In kindergarten, he had the epitome of kindergarten teachers: sweet and extremely sensitive to the fact that he came to school with a brother who was dying. All the kids in the class loved him and thought he was so funny.

At his first grade fall parent-teacher conferences, his teacher said to me when I sat down, "I believe all children are a gift from God. I would never try to make any of my students fit into any kind of mold." Since the mold was broken when Slim was made, this is exactly what I needed to hear. It was all I could do to keep myself from reaching across the table and kissing her.

Things changed quite a bit in second grade. Wanting to start the year with a positive connection with his teacher, I spoke to her right away about his new ADHD diagnosis. Instead of helping, it kind of felt like his teacher was already biased against him from day one. It took her the better part of the year to figure him out, and he had a miserable year.

Slim is in third grade this year, and so far, it's been kind of tough on us all. He has lots of homework every night. Quite often, either Hubby or I spend from about 4:00 to 7:00 working with him. It frustrates us all: Slim, who obviously wants to be doing other things, me because I have three other children to care for and dinner to fix, and Hubby because Hubby gets frustrated with Slim and homework.

His behavior is often a source of tension for all of us, and we yell at him quite a bit. We hear each other yelling at him, and it saddens both Hubby and me because we each know that's how we sound when we talk to him. Despite behavior therapy and meds (which, when I was teaching, I said I'd never give my own child because, after all, ADHD was just the result of lazy parenting), things with him are not getting much better.

And while plenty of kids still like him, think he's funny, and say hi when they see him, I have seen the way that some kids ignore him and have had the teacher tell me other kids in the class have complained about his constant talking and interrupting.

And he is getting more defiant and frustrated as well. It makes me miss the sweet little boy he once was.

But just when I get so sad and so frustrated, I get little glimpses and reminders that he is still that delightful, unique child that I fell in love with at first sight.
 

Saturday morning, Slim had Tae Kwon Do. This is a fairly new activity for him, one we're hoping sticks. He briefly played soccer, but he was more interested in running up and down the sidelines "entertaining" the parents. He played xylophone for a while, but was more interested in playing freestyle than following his teacher's lessons. And he has quit and rejoined Cub Scouts twice. When  he arrived home, he was pink with glee. He had a received a yellow notch in his belt after only his third class. The look of pride and excitement on his face was priceless.

Later that evening, I was helping him with the first step of his science report, which was to choose three animals not common to our region, about which to possibly write his report.

On his paper he wrote:

1. goblin shark
2. fat tail scorpion
3. sea krait

Now, I have heard of a goblin shark. It is the oddest looking shark, and Slim's favorite.

            
                          

 





However, never having heard of the other two, I was sure they were made up and/or spelled incorrectly. So we took to Google, and here's what we found:

 

 

 

Fat-tail scorpion:






source

Sea krait:



 



source

I don't know why I doubted him. I don't know why I doubted that he knows more than I do when it comes to exotic, unique animals.

Sometimes I don't know why I doubt that he will be okay or find his niche in life. I just need to remind myself of it more often.

 

I need to have faith in him and show him how to have faith in himself.

 

 

Read more about Slim here and here.

 

And if you're not already following me on Facebook, "like" me there and always be up-to-date on the crazy things life with four boys brings.

What I Learned on My Vacation

I'm back to my blog after about two weeks off. Two weeks away from social media. No blogging, no tweeting, no pinning, barely any commenting on other blogs. I needed a break. Things were getting to me. I was tired, physically and mentally.

I wrote this post, and then went on vacation to San Diego with my family. The perfect time to step away.

In my absence, I received all manner of comments ranging from empathy and understanding to speculation that I am depressed, still grieving, or really ill.

Well, it's nice to know people care.

The truth of the matter is that I am probably all of those things. I am a busy mom, trying to do too much and not taking care of myself.

The truth is that I am depressed - about Joey, about family "stuff", about myself and feeling like I'm in a sinking boat while my only oar floats away.

The truth is that I grieve for Joey every day, but so much harder some days than others.

The truth is my well-being is ill because it hasn't been attended to in a long time. My treadmill broke. I eat like crap. I'm tired, but I won't go to bed because of everything that's weighing on me.

I slept a lot on vacation. As I sat in our bungalow each night waiting for the boys to fall asleep, I'm sure Hubby was sitting outside with a glass of wine waiting for me to join him and look at the stars over the bay and listen to the water lapping against the sand.

But I was sleeping. Because I needed it.

I took two naps, too. Because I needed them.

I didn't bring my laptop, and I deleted a lot of blog posts that were e-mailed to me (I did read the ones from all my most favorite friends - AnnMarie, Steph, Meredith, Kimberly, JD, and a handful of others, but I just didn't comment). I didn't look at Twitter, and I barely checked Facebook.

And you know what?

Life went on.

Bloggers blogged, Tweeters tweeted, Pinners Pinned, Facebookers updated statuses.

And honestly, I really don't think I missed much.

What I didn't miss was having fun with my family at Legoland, watching the sheer exuberance of three little boys who ran screaming through the Mini-Land display to all of their favorite Star Wars scenes.

 



Or the fascination that all my boys - big and little - had with the fish pond at the resort.

 

 

 

Or watching all four boys have a total blast simply playing in the wet sand getting completely filthy.

 

 

 

Allowing myself to allow them to get completely filthy.

 

 

 

My mistake was thinking that things would change once I arrived back home. Thinking that I would have this magic change of heart or profound inspiration or strong motivation to eat tofu and run 6 miles every day.

 

Nope.

 

Monday morning greeted me with two appointments and no babysitter, and Monday afternoon slapped me with two activities and one little boy who didn't want to do either.

 

My treadmill was still broken, I had vacation laundry to do, I had a post to write for HVFH, and I fell back into my old pattern of staying up way too late at night and noshing on too many unhealthy foods.

 

I realized that there were things to be learned from a week away . . . and they weren't necessarily things I wanted to admit.

• No matter how much sleep I get or how many naps I take, I will always be tired.
• I like junk food; and if it's here, I will eat it.
• I am a night owl. I always have been. Old habits die hard.
• There is no laundry or toy fairy who visits your house when you are gone (oh, wait a minute . . . yes, there is. Her name is MOM!! Thanks Mom!).
• I logically cannot spend all of my time on social media. It is not my job. That's great that some people treat it like their job, but I just can't right now. And I can't let myself get upset about certain things not happening because I am not trying as hard as someone else.
• That pile of crap on my desk and all that junk in the "Lego" room is not going anywhere. I will get to it eventually.

Please tell me you have a room like this in your house, too.



I once heard that if you've crossed everything off your to-do list, that means you're dead. I think I am going to be around for a while.

 

As far as my writing goes . . .well, I'm not sure where it's going. What I do know, is that I need to take my own advice.

 

A young person whom I love very much and who has been very important to my family the past seven years, came to me for some advice. I told her one of my favorite pieces of life advice from one of my favorite people from my past.

 

My speech teacher in high school was Mary Kay Mueller. Today, she is an author, a motivational speaker, and life coach. She always had a smile on her face as she repeated to snotty, bored high school girls, "Happy people take risks."

 

Happy people take risks.

 

For 25 years I have been carrying this saying around - and telling other people this, too.

 

But not really living it.

 

You see, I'm scared of risk. With risk comes loss, and I've already lost too much. Loss hurts.

 

But without risk, you may never find happiness. No one was ever happy simply standing still. Content? Perhaps. But happy? No.

 

So yeah, I've got to take some risks. Recently, I applied for a paid blogger job and found out I was a finalist for the position. Wow, 'cause last year when I applied for this same job, I wasn't even considered.

 

I didn't end up getting the job; but I took a risk, and it made me happy.

 

So, going forward, I'm following the old school advice that Kit gave Vivian in Pretty Woman: Take care of you.

 

It seems so simple. Don't worry about anything else. If you take care of yourself, the rest will come. No comparisons, no beating myself up for something I am not. No gimmicks, no trying too hard. I am me, and I am unique. I am not anyone else and shouldn't try to be. I should just be the best me I am capable of being.

 

Without totally exhausting myself again, that is. ;)

 

 

What's the best piece of advice you've ever gotten? Did you follow it? How did it turn out?

 

 

Thank Goodness for Cuteness

Halloween is coming! Do your kids have their costumes yet?

Since I blame Halloween and all related scary images for my inability to open unknown doors, go into dark basements, and look under beds (among other activities known to provide chills, thrills, and other heart-jumping-into-my-throat moments), I'm extremely glad that my boys are still into "cute" costumes.

I'm talking about some of them today at Her View From Home. . .

. . .which, by the way, has debuted a new look and more writers! The site is really growing well beyond it's intended Nebraska audience. 

While you're there, look around and leave some comment love!