Speech two out of three is now complete. I had to give my “animated talk” tonight. That’s basically a “how to” speech. I did mine on how to draw a cartoon. And it didn’t go any better then the last speech. Actually it was slightly worse.

I have a cold. [Yes, about my 400th cold this winter, but who's counting.]

I woke up Friday morning with a scratchy throat and a tad bit of a stuffy nose.

By Saturday I was feeling pretty icky so I didn’t shower all day and spent most of the day on the couch or in bed.

I had to shower on Sunday. [I don't think my Sunday School kids would have enjoyed me so much after two days of not showering.] And then I spent the afternoon on the couch.

I thought I was feeling better on Monday. I woke up without even a stuffy nose, so I thought I was on the path to health. But I was wrong. By Monday afternoon I was blowing yummy bright yellow-green snot from my nose. I know. You’re jealous.

Which brings me to today. Today I crashed. Not only was my nose pretty stuffy all day, but my throat hurt, my tongue was dry and my lips are chapped. Plus I felt like I need to put toothpicks in my eyes. I mean to hold my eyelids up, but poking my eyeballs with them would probably have been just as effective.

By 6:30pm when class started I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was put my head down on the desk and sleep. But I didn’t want to snore in front of all these twenty year olds. So I did my best to try and pay attention and absorb what was being taught. Basically I’m going to have to read over the Powerpoint slides when I’m feeling better because I was essentially worthless in class.

Then it was my time to give my speech. I held out as long as I could, but eventually I was the only person left. I wasn’t feeling that nervous. I was just feeling tired. And cold. And grumpy.

But then I got in front of 100 peering eyeballs and the nerves took over. So here I was cold and shivering, head congested, throat dry and now I was nervous. I was quite a sight. I might as well of thrown up all over myself.

But I did something almost as good. Halfway through my shaky speech snot poured out of my nose. Not like a little snot running down my upper lip. But a whole ball of snot dropped out of my nose on to the floor, like a tear from my eye.

Oh that was so attractive. All the boys want my number now. Can I please go out with the girl who snots all over ther carpet in class? Please, please, please.

Thank goodness I’m comfortable in my own skin or I would have totally gone running from the classroom like a little school girl.

Right now I’m too tired to care. I’m just going to bed. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Or else I’m just turning off the alarm and going back to sleep.

Justis might be going on a date this weekend. A DATE! With a girl.

There’s this girl that he’s kind of had his eye on at school. And at last week’s school dance he asked her if she’d “go out” with him.

Lee goes, “What does that mean? ‘Go out?’”

I said, “It means they hold hands in the hallway and stuff.”

Lee must have gotten a funny look on his face because Justis said, “Yeah, we can hold hands. We just can’t hug.” HUG?!? I don’t want to hear about hugging. But, whew, thank God the school has a no hugging policy.

Then tonight Justis called her. The girl. His girlfriend. And he asked her if she wanted to go to a movie this weekend. She’s going to see what movies are playing and they will plan it all out later.

When he told me this I tried to play it all off like I was this totally hip, cool mom. Oh a date. That’s sweet. When really I was thinking, “Holy shit. A date.”

I remember when Justis could sleep sideways on my daybed. I remember changing his diapers. I remember helping him drink from his sippy cup. That all seems like yesterday. And today he wants to go on a date. It just doesn’t seem possible.

There better not be any kissing on this date. Do you think he’d notice if I slipped in to the theater all incognito with a big heavy jacket and sunglasses? I could sit a few rows back and throw popcorn at him if he gets to close to his date. I don’t think he’d mind.

Last night I was laying in bed half asleep when I realized I was thinking about The Cosby Show. I have no idea why. Apparently reruns are running on Nike @ Nite, but I haven’t seen any of them. I haven’t seen the show since it was on regular television. Yet this is the stuff I think about as I’m drifting off to sleep.

What was really bothering me was the stairs that lead in to the kitchen in the Cosby house. Do you remember all the scenes in the kitchen and their is a back stairway that leads upstairs? (1) Why do they need those backstairs? They have the big stairs in the living room. They lived in a townhouse in Manhattan. It’s not like it was a 5,000 square foot house that called for multiple stairs. And (2) where did those stairs come out at upstairs. We saw quite a few scenes in the hallway upstairs and I don’t remember any stairs other then ones from the living room. Do you?

So today after church I scoured the internet to see if I could find a floorplan of the Cosby house, but all I found was a picture of the outside of the house. So this does not answer my questions about these stairs? Does anybody know? What’s up with the kitchen stairs?

Yes, I’m a loser. But I can’t help it when these things pop in to my head and bug me until I find an answer. Don’t make me write a letter to the show or NBC execs or something.

Yesterday on Dr. Phil [but I just watched it now] there was a guy who thinks his wife needs “wife lessons.” This couple was on before and this was a follow-up. The guy has not learned much since his last appearance on Dr. Phil’s stage.

This guy drives me mad. He hates how his wife loads the dishwasher. He grades her cooking. He’s extremely critical. And he makes his wife feel unworthy. He wants her to wash his truck in lingerie for God’s sake. That dude needs to wash his own damn truck. And if he wants to do it in his underwear then go ahead. But you might want to close the garage door unless you live in the country with no neighbors.

But it gets better. Then some psycho bitch comes on and says that she is also a SAHM and she agrees with this husband. The wife needs to learn how to satisfy her husband. She needs learn what makes him happy and do it? This is the wife’s full-time job [housework and taking care of the children and her husband] and she’s not doing a good job.

SCREECH…

[That was the sound of my brakes.]

WTF? With a capital W, T and F!

Learn to satisfy your husband?!? Excuse me. Seriously. Is this woman for real? Does she have any self-respect?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for doing things to make your man happy. But it’s a two way street lady. It’s not all about the woman pleasing her man. The man needs to lift a finger every now and then too.

What fucking respect is this guy giving his wife? He can get satisfaction when he learns to earn it.

[Does anybody else think this conversation has taken an extremely sexual turn or is it just my dirty mind? Oh, just me? Ok, then. Proceed.]

I would like to see my husband “grade” my meals. He doesn’t have the balls to grade my meals, because he knows he’d be fucking wearing my C- macaroni all over his damn body if he so much as uttered a “ssss” let alone an “eee.”

I have a solution for this guy. You don’t like how she cooks? Cook it yourself. You don’t like how she cleans? Clean it yourself. Otherwise keep you big fat lips shut before she comes at you with the staple gun to close them for you.

My husband stays home with our kids. And yes I would love it if I came home to a spotless house and dinner on the table. And it wouldn’t hurt if he greeted me at the door in just a tie every now and then while my bath water was running in the background.

But I live in the real world. And I know how much Lee works. I know how hard he works at his school work. And I’m so proud of him for going back to school and sticking with it. I also know how exhausting it is to entertain a three year old all day. And I know how much time he spends getting the kids to their activities and making sure they get their homework done. So I learn to live without a clean house and prompt meals.

What I get instead is the satisfaction of knowing Caleb is home all day with his dad and not a stranger. I know my kids don’t come home from school to an empty house. I know they have help when they get stuck on their homework. I know they can stay after school when they need to or go to a friend’s house when they want because Lee can take them. I know we don’t have to limit the sports or other activities they participate in because Lee is there to make sure they get to practice and games.

I get so much more then a clean house. I get something way better then prompt meals. I get great kids who I know are safe and who know they are our number one priority. And I am so thankful that Lee agreed to stay home and take on this role. That is so much more important then how the dishes are loaded in to the dishwasher or whether or not dinner came out of a box. This dude on Dr. Phil needs to learn to be thankful for all the things his wife does do for him and be less critical about all that other stuff. Life’s short. Love it while you can.