As a first-time mum who was so sleep deprived I once actually forgot what suburb I lived in, writing down when my daughter fed, slept and did number ones and twos was something I clung to.
Unfortunately for the trees and the tidiness of my house, my notes were not recorded digitally, but all written on scraps of paper. There were sums figuring out when the next feed was due. There was weird coding about which boob I had to breastfeed from next. I wrote down numbers resembling algebra with how much formula my daughter drank when my boobs decided to pack up and go on holiday. There were scribbles of when she did a number two and how long she let me sleep for.
It might have looked like I was organised, or trying to maintain some kind of control in all the chaos among the notes us parents need for the many medical visits. The community nurse who came over drilling me on how much my baby was feeding and how much weight she had put on since leaving the hospital; the doctor and paediatrician wanting to know the same information.
It would have been so much easier for me to turn up to all those appointments with just my phone instead of my seemingly infinite amounts of paper scraps.