Dear Kiddo – A Low-Tech Legacy for Your High-Tech Kid

How I’m Sending My Son Memories He Won’t See for Decades

Years ago, before my wife was even pregnant, I heard something from an acquaintance that stuck with me. He mentioned a clever idea he wished he’d done when his kids were young: create an email address for your child before they’re born, and use it to send them photos as they grow up. A digital time capsule of sorts.

At the time, I thought this was absolute genius. The kind of parenting idea you file away under “things I’ll definitely do one day.”

And eventually, I did. Sort of.

The Email Experiment

When my son was born, like most new dads, I went a bit overboard taking pictures. Photos, videos, little clips of him sleeping, crying, yawning—you name it. But when I tried to start emailing them to this digital inbox I’d created for him, I quickly realized a problem: modern email accounts aren’t infinite. After a few months of my overzealous uploading, the account was already close to full.

Sure, I could’ve upgraded the storage. But I’m a dad—so I took the frugal route.

Instead of dumping everything in, I slowed down and curated. I stopped just sending photos, and started writing alongside them. Quick notes, letters, random thoughts, things I wanted to remember—and things I wanted him to know. Some were long, others just a few sentences. Sometimes I’d attach a picture; sometimes not. But all of them captured a little window into fatherhood in that moment.

It became less about the photos, and more about the perspective.

And that’s when this simple idea became something deeper.

What It’s Become

Now, I send emails every so often—not every day, not even every week. Just when something moves me, or when I want to freeze a moment in time.

A note about how proud I am.
A story about something funny he said.
A letter after a hard day, when parenting didn’t go as planned.
A photo of him sleeping like a baby—because he is a baby.

My wife has access too, but between the two of us, I’m definitely the more sentimental one. She’s supportive, but I’m the one who remembers to hit “send” the most.

Even though my son is old enough to read now, I don’t plan on giving him the password to this inbox for a long time—maybe when he’s 18. Maybe 30. Maybe on his wedding day or the day he becomes a dad himself.

But when that day comes, I hope he opens it and feels everything I’ve ever wanted to say, but might’ve forgotten to say out loud.

Why You Should Try This

If you’re a new dad—or even an expecting dad—this is a simple, meaningful way to connect with your child long-term. It’s not about the tech. It’s about the memory, the emotion, the honesty.

It’s also a quiet insurance policy. In case, one day, I’m not around to say these things, he’ll still know how much he meant to his father.

Pro Tips from the Inbox Trenches

1. Log in occasionally.
Most email providers will deactivate accounts that haven’t been used in a while. Set a reminder to check in every few months so you don’t lose everything.

2. Don’t open the emails.
Leave them unread. Let your kid be the first to open them all at once, whenever the time is right. There’s something powerful about seeing 10,000 unopened emails waiting just for you.

3. Be honest.
Don’t curate some polished version of fatherhood. Be real. Tell the truth. If bedtime was a war zone and your kid acted like a little gremlin, write about it. It's therapeutic and hilarious in hindsight.

4. Shrink your photos.
You don’t need to send the full 10MB resolution of every picture. Compress them a bit—1MB is usually enough to print a 4x6. It’ll save space and still capture the memory.

5. Think long-term.
This isn’t a project for their 10th birthday. Think 30s, think adulthood. You’re planting something now that they’ll only harvest much later.

TL;DR for the Tired Dads:

• Create an email for your kid before they’re born.

• Send selected photos, not everything.

• More importantly: write them letters. Honest, short, messy, sentimental.

• Let your partner contribute too.

• Log in now and then to keep the account active.

• Don’t open the emails—save the surprise.

• Keep the honesty high and the photo sizes low.

• Give it to them when they’re grown.

It’s not hard. It doesn’t cost much. And one day, when your kid reads what you wrote 20 years ago, it’ll be worth every word.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another email to write.

– Dad