About a week ago I started a notebook for Shelby. A more detailed baby book, kinda, with handwritten notes from me for her to read when she's older. Little tidbits about what she did that day, or if we celebrated any firsts, like her first time standing unassisted, or saying "bye-bye." The beginning few pages I describe how she came to be. How she has a sibling in heaven and how much her daddy and I love her.
But I might be a little sneaky in my true purpose for these notebooks.
It's always been easier for me to express myself with words. Not necessarily verbally, but rather in writing. If Shelby happens to be anything like her mom, she might be the same way, and these notebooks could turn into the golden key to keeping the lines of communication open as she gets older. I know when I was a teenager, I was pretty quiet keeping most of my feelings to myself. Had I been a bit more open with my parents, I probably would have realized that being a teenage girl wasn't all that awful.
Shelby can use the notebook to draw pictures, write her favorite quotes, leave ramblings of the everyday teenager, or talk to me about things she may not be comfortable verbalizing. The notebook can be whatever she wants or needs it to be on any given day. She can leave it on my bed without judgment. Without the worry of having to watch me read it, or look me in the eyes for an uncomfortable conversation. I'll respond and leave it for her on her bed.
They may even turn into a nice memory for her to have when I'm gone. A tangible thing for her to hold on to, to read and look through rather than a USB port, or memory chip.
An old fashioned notebook in a very electronic driven society, something that will last a lifetime.