6 Weeks!

No, I'm not 6 weeks pregnant. Ha! Made you look!

Get over it. God would have to be really skilled with knots for that to happen.

No, we don't only have 6 weeks left in the school year.

I don't even have the summer schedule figured out yet.

No, 6 weeks isn't the amount of time before we take a really cool trip.

We don't even plan on vacationing until August, unless you count the possibility that I may, MAY, head to Dallas in July along with thousands of other women who drink pink kool-aid and like it.

Inspired by the television show Made, on MTV, (which apparently George watches with the kids while I am away . . .hmmm.) we have decided to give each family member 6 weeks to personally attempt something which we find scary.

Me? I'll be submitting stories to competitions and queries to a few magazines.

Harper? She first said swimming (swimming itself not being the fear, but rather not knowing other children in the class), but then mentioned soccer.

(Cause in my mind, THAT's less intimidating. Yes, that was sarcasm. I'm proud of her for even voicing it, and yet, we'll be seeing how this pans out. Maybe a few games with friends at the park as opposed to doing a league again, where a clump of kids all stampede after the ball at the same time.)

George? He's planning on getting in the running game again.

(A birthday gift of running shoes from his parents, who always seem to get hit up for shoes when they come to town, would be greatly appreciated. Wink.)

And what of Zane's fears?

He shared that he is scared of band fires.

Band fires?

Like when the stage catches on fire during a concert?

Band fires?

Like pyrotechnics and special stage effects?

And just what concert were you planning on attending?

Oh, wait.

Not band fires!

VAMPIRES!

Well, now I feel much better. A little garlic (check), a cross (got 'em a'plenty), and a wooden stake (nothing Daddy can't whittle for you) and you are all set.

Go get 'em Zane.