Keeping just as many memories of your second child (without the guilt)

With your first child, the baby book is full to the brim: a photo every week, every milestone noted, the first crumb on their chin captured. With number two, that same book is still mostly empty after three months. Almost every parent of more than one child knows that nagging guilt. It isn't your fault, and it's easy to fix.

Why it's different with number two

Time. With your first, everything was new and you had relatively more room to celebrate every moment. With your second you're chasing a toddler and a baby, and the day is over before you get anywhere near the photo book. Completely normal. The thing is, your second child will one day want to look back on their story just as much as your first.

Make it easier on yourself

If you resolve to "record everything from now on", you won't keep it up. Set the bar lower instead, so that you actually manage it:

• One photo a week is enough. Not fifty, not perfect. One picture that captures how that week felt.
• One sentence with it. "Smiles back now." "Hates the car seat." That's all you need; those little lines are pure gold later.
• Batch it. Set aside ten minutes on Sunday evening and pick that week's photos in one go. See also: organising your child's photos without the hassle.

Give each child their own place

The biggest risk with more than one child is that everything gets mixed up in your camera roll. So use one app in which each child has their own timeline. That way you build a complete album for each child with no extra effort, and your second never has to feel like "the child without any photos" later on. Feel free to let the grandparents help build it through a share link; grandparents often send photos you missed.

Catching up is always allowed

Is your second already one and is the book still empty? Just start now. This week, put ten favourite photos from the past few months on the timeline and write down what you still remember. Above all, don't compare it with the bursting album of your first. It doesn't need to be complete to mean something fifteen years from now; it just needs to be there.