When my 'big two' were babies, I felt so alone. J was working 16 hour days (sometimes more) and I would find myself longing for conversation. Babies are lovely and all, but I was almost climbing the walls most afternoons.
With little number 3, I decided that instead of delving into self-medicating with nutella and trashy mags, I would do something POSITIVE for myself.
Even if I was just talking to myself (or future-self) I thought it would be nice to have something to say that didn't involve 'baby stuff'.
Here's me drawing at the beach while little Number 3 is asleep in his posh pram.
I make no apologies for my blog. It's not fancy. There are probably typos and mistakes and posts with TMI.
It's a bit like a diary. I just open a page and pour it all out. I consider editing, but then I realise there are probably disasters awaiting me in the kitchen or kids who need bathing or washing to be done. I don't really care if nobody else reads it - in fact hardly anyone I know reads it - my very besties only recently discovered it during the whole chaotic project that was Every Day in May.
So I just put it out there and let it go. Like one of those helium balloons you used to send out as a kid (before you discovered the burst rubber remains were being eaten by turtles and baby seals). A little bubble of joy and hope, let loose on the winds.
With my little blog I've rediscovered my love of writing. Once, long ago, I dreamed of being an author. When I left school, I went to uni to study writing - emerging with a degree in journalism and an enormous debt.
Writing advertorials sort of killed my love of creating on paper, so I retrained as a teacher where I could just enjoy reading and studying books.
Blogging has reignited some of my ambitions to see my name on a book spine one day. I've been hauling out old manuscripts and writing short stories just for fun.
I don't know if I'll manage to make a go of it, but I know I'll have fun trying :)
Thanks for reading!