the end was just the beginning
It's a little confronting to acknowledge that you were depressed for a very, very long time. I feel like I'm addressing an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting: "My name is Alana and I was depressed. It's been 30 days since my last black dog moment." Except depression isn't like alcohol. When you're an alcoholic you've either had... Continue Reading →
I've been a bit anxious since having lunch with DD's mum, brother and sister-in-law on Sunday. My way of coping with meeting new people ... and the briefest gaps in conversation ... is to talk ... a lot. There's no filter. At one point during lunch, I saw everyone's eyes go a bit wide about... Continue Reading →
I have an imperfect life. But, hey, who doesn't? There's a lot I wish I could change. But the good outweighs the bad. That's better than many people get. It doesn't mean I don't agonise over my room-for-improvement stuff. I agonise over everything. Lately, I've been pondering my wants versus my needs. Or, more accurately,... Continue Reading →
I don't know when being a mother stopped terrifying me. It scared me witless for the first four or five years. I'm awed by women who take to it like a duck to water. Part of me wanted to run far, far away. Getting my baby to stop crying, to sleep, to feed without every... Continue Reading →
I watched man walk on the moon yesterday. And I cried. Why did watching a man walk on the moon almost 50 years ago make me cry? OK, I was a little emotional after having a tummy bug for the seventh day in a row - woe is me - but ... Context: the eldest... Continue Reading →
The two households thing is so weird. My children spend Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays with their dad and the rest of the week with me. When we all lived together the kids would make elaborate things in the craft room, build stuff with Lego, cajole me to play Polly Pocket imaginary games ... None of... Continue Reading →
It's a bit like the Marie Celeste at my place ... a half-finished game of Monopoly lies on the dining room table; dirty dishes languish in the sink; a gingerbread maker sits open on the kitchen bench - yes, such things exist in the shops and I ALWAYS FIND THEM - with tubes of writing... Continue Reading →
I was still crook as Rookwood yesterday, but that's not the only reason I didn't blog. You see, it was DD's birthday and I had a festival planned that kicked off with a fancy night in the city on Monday. Given my puke-a-thon over the weekend, DD was very skeptical about my prospects and suggested... Continue Reading →
HouseGoesHome has been out of action over the past few days. It takes a lot to stop me blogging, but I was a total mess. Lots of people were kind enough to post messages about missing the blog. One follower commented on HouseGoesHome's Facebook page: "No blog! Where will we get our laughs. Enjoy your... Continue Reading →
Food poisoning. Crook as.
housegoeshome 