Keeper of the Forgettable

My husband pulled out his phone the other day and showed me a video he came across from a couple of years ago. My daughter, 9 months old at the time, was snoozing away in her infant car seat. We had arrived at her grandparents and were trying to stir her awake. Her eyelids fluttered before she resumed her slouched, head hung position resting in oblivion. My husband and I "ooh-ed" and "ahh-ed" in the background as first-time parents do for some time. She simply couldn't bring herself to open her eyes long enough to completely rejoin us yet.

Fast forward to our nearly three-year-old singing the ABC's in her bed at 10 p.m. In this season, it's hard to believe she ever had less than 100% energy. 

That video made me remember a moment that otherwise would've been forgotten. It wasn't specific enough to make a memory that lasts well into the later years of life. It was just an adorable moment that we caught on video thanks to the smartphone epidemic. Calling it "forgettable" makes it seem unimportant, but the fact is there's a filtering process that allows you to remember a first birthday more than random Wednesday.

There are a lot of things to dislike about smartphones. They are distracting, costly, and can serve as another unneeded venue to waste time watching TV or videos. The amount of accidents caused by smartphone use while driving is disturbing. The list price of your smartphone may be equivalent to that of a monthly mortgage payment. The effects of too much screen time, phones included, for children cannot be ignored. 

And yet, without them, I wouldn't have remembered that adorable moment with my baby girl. I would remember the collection of adorable moments and the sweet slope of her nose and mischievous, snaggle-toothed grin. But I wouldn't have remembered the moment we pulled into my in-laws driveway where she so cutely tried to stir awake. 

I wouldn't have the video of her first time rolling over, because it happened so quickly I barely had time to open my camera app, let alone boot up a camcorder. 

I wouldn't have a record-breaking number of photos from her first year of life. 

Without the pictures for proof, I might have thought I exaggerated just how much she had her tongue sticking out. (Every. Single. Picture.) 

There's something to be said about not parenting behind a screen. I get that. There have been many moments that I try to just "be" and experience it instead of capturing it. But so many times in my three years of parenting I have been grateful for the ease of capturing a hilarious dance, an infectious smile, or a sweet, sleeping face. 

Thanks to smartphones, I have a clear picture of every single day that little girl made me a mama that first year. And I am grateful for that. 

I'll be the first to admit that I have significantly less pictures of my son's first year. This makes me so sad, but also makes so much sense that I'm not sure I could change it even if I got to relive it. There are less pictures taken when you have divided attention 95% of the time. Don't get me wrong, I still have a ton of pictures. A ton. It's just less. 

I caught what I assume was his first time rolling over, on the second go-round. 

The moments when I tried to capture something cute were often invaded by a blur that is his older sister. 

There are more pictures of him confined by a bouncy seat, exersaucer, or bumbo... for his own protection. 

But his sweet smile is still plastered all over my 64GB iPhone. His first year and beyond is still overloading my additional iCloud storage. I still have his epic dance moves available at the touch of a finger. And for all its faults, I am grateful for the technology that allows me that freedom. The freedom to relive those otherwise "forgettable" moments we are often too tired, overwhelmed and overbooked to commit to long-term memory. 

So for that, and not for my inflated phone bill, I thank you, Apple.