New mothers are always so ambitious.

Back when I was pregnant with Budsie, I started writing him a Dear Fetus Book. Well that’s what I called it – other people call it a ‘Love Journal’ or ‘Notes to My Angel’ but other people are obviously lame-os. Anyway, I wrote letters to Budsie telling him about how things were going, what kind of food I was into, what we were thinking of naming him when we didn’t know he was a he, how much he made me vomit, etc. I pasted in notes from the midwife and the ultrasound photos and seasonal stickers. I often wrote to him at 3am while I was eating my late night green apple (to be followed by a handful or four of late night jelly beans). I enjoyed thinking about him someday reading it – or much more likely, his girlfriend/wife/whatever someday reading it and smiling. I liked the idea of letting him know how miserable and yet interesting pregnancy was, and how excited we were to be having him.

Given my enthusiasm for the Dear Fetus Book, you would think that Budsie’s baby book would be bursting with details and milestones and whatnot. First smiles and first rolls and first coughs and first vomits and first ‘big boy’ diapers all recorded neatly in the little columns provided.

Um.

Well, his birthday is in there. And his birth weight. And, um, I think I traced his hands when he was four weeks old. Oh and I pasted in his little ‘baby’s first week home’ sheet, which gives a detailed record of how much he pooed himself in the first seven days. But in a book with 68 pages to fill out, I’ve covered maybe 4. Hmmm.

It’s not that I think that having a baby book is super duper important for Budsie. I really don’t think he’ll care. In fact, he’ll probably curse the damn thing everytime he has to find somewhere to pack it when he’s gallavanting about the world (I picture him gallavanting about somehow). But I want the record for me because I have a terrible memory and I need to be prompted. I want to remember the time when he got his first tooth (or teeth in his case) and I want to remember the first time he boogied across the floor like a chubby little crab. So the resolution for today: fill out and continue to fill out the damn baby book. Keep it near me at all times if I must. I want records!