This is my blog. Everyone has one now, right? I’m not known for being a cool hunter, and I’m a little late to the party, but I’m going to have one now, too. Do I think people want to read what I have to say? Not sure. Do I want to have a place to download my brain so I won’t forget the little things? Yup. Forgetting is my worst fear. I don’t want to forget how I feel when my children discover something for the first time. I don’t want to forget the sweet things my husband says to me while washing the dishes. I don’t want to forget the promises I’ve made. My hope is that this blog will make me more accountable to myself. My intent is not primarily to entertain, but to document a day in the life. At the end of each day, as I drift off to sleep, I see these vignettes in my head of my family. I try to memorize the script from the day. What silly things did Poppy say? How pure was Charlie’s smile when he ran down the sandy beach? How magical was Mary Hazel’s laugh when Russell tickled her ribs? Like a dream I mean to remember, these images and sensory memories fade over time. I feel so anxious when I realize I’m remembering less and forgetting more. That’s why I buy every awkward school picture, save every popsicle stick Christmas ornament, and hoard every doodle. This behavior could be confused with that of a pack rat (and I’m not saying that I’m not), but mostly I just never, ever want to forget. Somehow, the scrapbooking ship set sail without me. My iPhoto library is busting at the seams, but I have precious few real picture albums. My journals have impressive first entries and then eventually peter out as the new year’s resolution gathers dust. I need a primary repository for these memories, these keepsakes, so I don’t further regret my tardiness in getting started. I realized a while back that, like most writers, I feel my words don’t do my memories justice. When I start to feel like I’m falling short, progress is stalled and eventually aborted. I need momentum. And I’m hoping maybe I find my center here.