I couldn’t function without making lists. If I don’t write things down I’m done for, and even when I do I often fail to check my diary and forget anyway. My kitchen is filled with scraps of paper and several old pads with important and not so important things scrawled upon them. If I’m this diligent about writing down the minutiae, why am I so rubbish at writing down the stuff that really matters? Like the new email address I set up and linked to a twitter account in 2012, which is now hanging around in cyberspace, untouched due to my own inability to hack into my own life. Or more importantly, the things I really do want to remember in years to come, like my children’s first words and cute mispronounciations. Sound familiar? At the time I was always correcting but now they’re gone, I kind of miss them and don’t want those memories to slip away.
When my son was about two years old, when we called his name he always used to shout: “I comin’!”. I remember his first real sentence, when he was playing with a new bath toy he got for his second Christmas, he said: “I press the button and the bubbles comin’ in!” So cute. After “Daddy,” his first word was “cat”, but I have a friend whose daughter’s first utterance was “beer”. How could you forget that gem? But just in case you do, you better write it down. So now, before my daughter starts to talk, I’m going to do what I’ve been planning to do for five years. I’m going to start a memory book in this delightful notepad. It was handmade and screen printed by my friend’s sister Cathryn Weatherhead. She is based in Cardiff’s Morgan Arcade and her work is so beautiful and inspiring I think this book is special enough to hold these thoughts inside. It says “Beth am fynd am antur,” which luckily for me is translated on the label as “Let’s go on more adventures”. And who wouldn’t agree with that?