I dithered a lot about starting a blog. The truth is, I used to blog a lot. Like, a lot. Back in the day (oh, five years ago?) -- waaaay back before Tumblr and Instagram and SnapChat and WhatsApp and I don't even know what else) -- blogs were the way to interact and meet people online. I used to religiously update my site every day, spending hours responding to comments and visiting other blogs. I met many lovely people who went on to become friends in real life, and many who I count as friends even if we haven't met.
And then . . .
Well, then I had a baby. Suddenly, I was struggling just to shower, never mind blog. Writing my books was just about possible, but blogging fell by the wayside. I tried to keep up, but finally I had to admit that I just couldn't. Not if I wanted to finish my novel, brush my hair, and somehow maintain a scrap of sanity along the way.
And now that baby is four years old. Four! I always swore I'd never tell new mums that time flies, but really . . . time does fly, once you're past that first year. Or two. (Okay, maybe two and a half.) Suddenly, my son is in school full-time, five days a week, as opposed to the paltry three half-days I had to cram work into for the first three years of his life. Looking back, I can't believe I managed to write several novels and novellas in the few hours I did have. Yes, I was lucky to have a flexible schedule. And yes, I was beyond fortunate to spend so much time with him as he grew. But still . . . I couldn't help longing for the day I'd be able to eat lunch without rushing! To work and work and work until I actually got tired, not because I needed to run to the nursery for noon.
So when that day finally came after Christmas, I was a little surprised how sad I felt. No more long afternoons stretching in front of us, with hours to fill jumping in fountains, visiting museums, or rolling around in sand at nearby Holland Park or Kensington Gardens. Now, our afternoons are curtailed by falling darkness and end-of-day fatigue . . . for us both. We snuggle, we chat, we talk about his day ('I don't know' being the answer du jour). But somehow, I feel as if I've given him up to others -- like he's no longer exclusively mine. That's growing, I guess. With every year, every new experience, he's moving away from me, once the centre of his world. And I need to let him.
So what does that have to do with blogging? Well, it's time for me to get back to the things I once enjoyed; to recapture some things in my life BC (before children). I have truly missed the ease of writing that comes with blogging -- creating something short and sweet, with little need for planning. I can't promise I'll be here every day or even how often, but I will be around from time to time to share my neighbourhood and my life in London, along with the challenges and craziness of a novelist's life.
So . . . welcome to Love, Leah!