Never forget

When we were paying for our weekly nursery rhyme session at the library the other day, the librarian presented us with a little sticker that marked his tenth time there. I was about to stick it on his t-shirt, but the librarian stopped me. 'Stick it somewhere special,' she said, 'and save it for posterity. You'll both forget all about Waggle and Hum later, so this is a nice way to remember in the future.'

Fair point. I've been thinking a lot recently about how many things I'm likely to forget about Samuel's childhood. My memory's like a sieve at the best of times, and with new skills developing and new favourites emerging at a rate of knots right now, I get nervous that all of the lovely little things that happen will just wash away like soap suds.

Of course, there's his red book that records all the statistical stuff like weight and height, so I never need to worry about those. And there are always going to be oodles of photographs and videos charting his life that will help me to remember what he looked like and where we went. But photographs don't cover everything. They can't remind us of the sequence of events on the day he was born. Or what his favourite books are at six months' old. Or how Hickory Dickory Dock in particular makes him squeal with delight.

I decided it was time to start jotting these things down. Not just for my shoddy memory, but also for him when he's older. Just in case he's interested, or a nostalgic sap like his Mum.

Luckily I had just the place to do it. James bought me a Smythson 'Baby's First Years' notebook for my birthday last year when I was pregnant. I couldn't find the time to wee for the first few months, never mind write anything down, but I think I can now. So I dug it out and the sticker is now safely ensconced. From his first smile to his first Christmas, I've been scribbling memories in it furiously. And that's why I haven't been knitting.