Marceline finally laid down for a nap. It’s been a particularly crabby day where she did not want to be put down. Her first cold, so I can understand.

Anyways, I sat down at my desk to work on a few things. I have this journal I bought a while ago. Its a nice leather bound journal. Thick cover, lined pages with headers. And best of all, super on sale. I bought it thinking, I could journal. Maybe write something for Marceline for later on in life.

I had bought my parents these little books a few years ago. Found them in a bookstore. Basically “Mom in her words” or “Dad in his words”. I asked them to fill them out, never quite expecting to get them back. One of those things, you know. Like would be nice, but not super important. But I did get one back from my mom, and it is pretty awesome and sits on my bookshelf.

So I started this journal. I had a lot of trouble starting it. Where do you start a journal for your child. At my childhood? High School? College. Post College? I decided to start writing about moving to Cleveland and see where it takes me. I started it in October, and have made it almost 30 pages into it. Not too bad. I write when she’s asleep, and usually when I’m home alone. For some reason it feels odd to write in it when Sam is here. Not that she doesn’t already know everything I could possible write in it.

And I like that it isn’t the “Dad in his words” book. I like the free form of journal writing. I don’t think I could fill out just a list or with suggested topics. I always consider myself a story-teller, I have a ton of stories and put together, they tell a lot about my life.

As part of this I went back and read a lot of blog posts I had done from when I moved to Cleveland. To see what I remembered and what I may of forgotten. There’s a lot that was going on in my life at that time. Woo.

But, and here’s what I was originally writing about…. my desk doesn’t fit me working on the journal, having a laptop open, and my cat. And my cat demands attention. My desk…. it is just too damn small.