New Resolve

Greetings, imaginary baby, from my office in a tiny school in rural North Carolina, where I am a writer in residence. It's a drizzly day outside, and my office overlooks what I think are three giant exhaust tubes behind another classroom building. If covered in snow they would look like part of the rebel base on the ice planet Hoth. You don't know about Hoth, but don't worry - I'm guessing, should you turn up, you will be exposed to Hoth probably within the first week of your life. Your mother soothes herself by watching movies she has seen one million times. It's a quirk of her personality that will probably drive you batty, as it drives your would-be father batty. The thing about family life is, you show up with certain buttons pre-installed. That's just how it goes.

We're both having a surprisingly good time in North Carolina. The food is really good, we've both settled into a routine. Your would-be father is getting a lot of work done. My teaching is going well. I even went to yoga last night, and today I feel pleasantly tired and stretched out.

I've bought another supply of plastic sticks. The expensive ones, that give you four days of smiley face. And I've been taking the vitamins.

You should see these horse-pill vitamins they tell you to take. The first one I tried turned my urine florescent green and made my breath smell like a barley field. I reasoned that if I was peeing out green then I probably wasn't actually absorbing any of the vitamins, so what's the point? I quit. They were hard to swallow and gave me a stomachache anyway. I went several months sans vitamins. But, begrudgingly, I have reconsidered. I switched brands. These new ones are wine-colored caplets, and they are partly made of fish (don't tell your father, as we don't eat fish - more on that later), but they change neither my breath nor my effluvia, so I've decided to stick with them. I've actually taken them every day for a whole week. Not bad, huh?

You don't seem impressed. Listen, kid, you have no idea. It's complicated out here. Lots of things to keep track of.

So, I've got the vitamins, I've got the yoga class, I've got lots of sleep, I'm relaxed and also I'm in a place that's not too cold, so I'm shivering less. That's got to be good, right? And now I've got a two month supply of the serious, four-smiley-faces pee sticks.

I'm ready. I think. I think I'm ready.

What do you think? Are you ready?