I really dislike blogs. I've said that before, and I even put the link to my own blog in my "Dislikes" list on my website. But what I dislike more than blogs is reading someone's blog to find out they've harbored some deep resentment toward something I've been doing.

Let me explain.

I have a good friend and co-worker. He has a hot wife and a beautiful child. I love the whole family as if they were blood relatives. No, scratch that. I love them as if they were chosen relatives. Anyway, recently my friend posted a blog entry in which he complains about people without children (me, for instance) offering child-rearing advice to him and his wife. The phrasing he uses makes it sound like just by the act of heterosexual sex he is granted the wisdom to know what to do in any situation. And by not having planted my sperm in a vagina and produced get, my own life experiences are worse that useless as learning tools.

I resent that implication.

True, I haven't been in the delivery room to see a new human squeezed out between a woman's legs. But I do have a keen understanding of a child's mind and the mechanations therein. I think to discount someone else's advice simply because they have no children of their own is the height of arrogance. It's like saying just because I haven't built a bridge before I have no right to suggest putting another pier under a sagging stretch might be a good idea.

True, I can't relate to the frustration of finding a daycare; but I can express an opinion on the whole social acceptance of leaving your child to be raised by someone else. (If you don't want to accept the job of raising a child, don't have a f**king child!!!).

And now on to the facing my fears portion of this entry. This past Sunday I signed up to be a liturgist at my church on February 11. I suffer from Glossophobia, or the fear of public speaking. I suffer from it big time. I get an upset stomach and anxious bowels. My pulse rages. My ears are rendered ineffective because of the drumming sound. My legs get weak and my mouth gets dry.

I also don't like being afraid of anything. I'm told that facing a fear is the best way to conquer it. After delivering my father's eulogy I decided I needed to lick this little obsession. I've read scripture in my church, I speak out more in group, and at social events I try to make myself talk to at least one stranger. Being the liturgist is going to take this fear-facing to a whole new level.