Along with other things, I’ve started obsessing over what to do for a baby record. Obsessing is, possibly, a strong word for what I’ve been doing. “Browsing Pinterest like it’s my job” might be more accurate.
I’ve been recording this pregnancy in a journal. Nothing special; it’s just something I picked up from HomeGoods. And by recording, I don’t mean weekly. It’s more every few weeks when I really feel shitty and/or better than shitty. I want there to be some reminder for me about what pregnancy is really like, so if Nick and I ever consider doing this again I have something realistic to refer to. Let’s face it, most people are all rosy about pregnancy and that isn’t at all what I’ve experienced. Though, it could have been worse. I just want a realistic point of view for next time.
Which brings me back to the baby book- or some way to record all the things you are supposed to record about babies. I don’t have a baby book. In my mother’s defense, I was number 5 of six children. On top of THAT, I’m also a twin (with number 4, by the way, my crazy mother birthed one more after us). She did, bless her adorable soul, write our milestones on a calendar. I know this because I saw it once. Not sure what happened to it. She can also tell you when we started walking and talking and such (for the record, I walked way earlier than my twin- I win).
Nick, I’m sure, has never asked about such things. He’s also a twin so I’m sure his mother had TONS of time to write in a baby book between taking care of the two of them (she’s also crazy and had another child after having twins. What’s wrong with these women??).
Which brings us to our little nugget. Do I want to do a baby record of some sort? Yes, especially because I’m sure my memory will not last and/or be skewed about events (yeah kid, you started walking at 3 months old). But how should we record it?!?! Ugh my pregnant brain can’t handle this.
Here are my ideas so far.
- A Calendar (something like this)- Like mother, like daughter. Pros for this idea: it wouldn’t take much time to just jot down a milestone. Cons: it would only be for the first year and it wouldn’t be very personal.
- A traditional baby book (this is adorable and I love Peter Rabbit)- Pros: it pretty much tells you all the milestones you are supposed to record and gives you space to write and put pictures. Cons: There will always be something left blank because not everything will be relevant or remembered (ex: your first yawn- do people actually remember that???).
- A box of crap- Obviously not my favorite. I’m thinking a memory box of sorts or a memory frame. I don’t know, pinterest suggested it. Pros: quick and easy. We could even include notes and calendars. Cons: it would be a box of crap and, remember, we are trying to be more organized! (Ed. Note: I’ve seen my mother’s organizational skills. This is most likely the medium she went with to record my and my brothers’ milestones.)
- A journal (this would work)- This is my favorite idea so far. Pros: it’s not as scripted as a baby book. You can write what you want- milestones, calendar, notes, whatever. Paste pictures in there. Also, you can keep it going for as long as you want (longer than just the first year). Cons: You have to figure out what to write – the milestones aren’t given to you.
- (Ed. Note: If only we had a virtual tool at our disposal that would allow us to post regular updates. Maybe we should consider writing a blog.)
What are we going to do?!!? Who knows if we’ll even stick with anything we decide. My pregnant brain might decide on one thing and then my post-baby brain might laugh and say, “Yeah, that was a stupid idea.” Do people even have time to write in baby books?!?! Won’t we rather be sleeping instead of recording? I have no idea. Maybe it’s just the thought that counts. When she’s an adult, we’ll hand her whatever the tool we chose to record her childhood and it will only be partly completed. Or she’ll say, “Um, mom, why is this filled with candy wrappers and wine labels and the words I NEED TO SLEEP??” And I’ll smile my old-mom smile, and I’ll pat her hand with my silky old-mom hand, and I’ll say, “Because mom was so sleep deprived and full of chocolate and wine that she went a little crazy.”