For Christmas, my sister gave us a hip little sticky-note pad that features a figurative, cartoonish, neo-mid-century mother-with-child printed in the upper left corner. At the bottom of each page, it reads “things to get done before baby arrives.”

Were we to use such an item for our planning, and let’s just be hypothetical here, we could have written one task on each page and torn them out of the tablet as the individual works were accomplished.

Preparing for impending life being what it is, I’m certain that, had we created that sort of prefaratorial work instruction document, the pad my sister had given us would have been possessed of magical powers. For each page we ripped off the pad, a new one would appear at the end.

This is how it’ll go from now on, and I’m glad for it.

I have a buddy here in Atlanta who has decided to pursue what he calls “God’s Work.” He intends to spread a message of inclusivity and love through his every action, thought, utterance and creation. Explaining his decision to pursue such a course, he explained, “it’s the only way I’ve found to be on point 24-7.”

With the impending delivery and introduction of my daughter, I feel the same way: on point.

I may fuck stuff up and still be slack, but I feel like everything I do has some greater purpose, some tiny sliver of divinity within it, even if it’s watching a Tivo-ed episode “Mario Eats Italy” at 8:30AM on a Saturday because I’m learning how to cook perfect shrimp for my soon-to-be perfect daughter.

This entry introduces a new Category to the site: Child, The.