When my daughter was little, we had this sacred nap-time ritual. I'd lie there with her, soaking up the warmth of those sleepy snuggles—while my brain ran wild with everything I hadn’t ticked off my list.
As much as I treasured those slow, quiet hours, part of me craved something more... intentional. Maybe even creative. Anything to make me feel like I hadn’t lost myself to the scroll.
Then one (very) early morning, like clockwork, she woke for milk and drifted back to sleep. I, of course, stayed wide awake. My brain kicked in with its usual performance:
“Laundry. Lunch. Clean the bathroom. Hang the clothes. Email that person. Oh—and update the baby book!”
That last one always stung. Because I wanted to. I wanted to remember the funny things, the messy bits, the sweetness I was too tired to write down at the end of the day. But who has the time—or the mental space—for the traditional baby book?
So I created Wildfolk.
A memory book that fits into this version of motherhood—the one where you’re nap-trapped with a phone in your hand, trying to hold on to the moments that matter without needing a spare hour or a perfect pen.
