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Three weeks and one day. The time we have left here in New Zealand. Time. It’s ticking away before my eyes.

Scrolling through our ‘To Do’ list just now, it’s hard not to feel overcome. Not just with the enormity of all that we have to get done in the next three weeks and one day, but also for that which we have already crossed off the list. When the list was made, it felt like we had all the time in the world. But now time has caught up with us, and there’s not much of it left.

If you’ve been following this fitful blog of mine, you will know that we started planning for this move over 12 months ago. After a few false starts, and much planning and replanning, we finally find ourselves here at the pointy end. It’s really happening. We are finally moving to Australia.

Amidst all the practicalities of moving countries with two small children, there has been little time for sentimentality. Until tonight. Laying in the bath this evening I took some precious moments to think about the past 6 years of our lives here in Wellington. About this house of ours, and how she has played host to some of the most joyous and also the most heartbreaking moments of our lives. I have spent endless hours lying on her living room floor, marvelling at my babies as they grew and developed into the wondrous little individuals they are today. There were the days and months of grief stricken depression after the loss of Stella. There was an indescribable comfort in the simple act of sitting on the heated tiles of the kitchen floor during those dark moments. On other days, her awe-inspiring mountainous views were a tonic for my heartbroken soul. Then there were the much cherished visits from family and friends from afar. The mundane and extraordinary, this house has been a gracious host and I will miss her.

Snow on the hills and bugs in the air. It must be winter.IMG_20150418_214632

But for now, I still have three weeks and one day. We still have a lot to do before we leave, but I am determined to stay present and not lose myself to the chaos. I want to enjoy every last minute I have here in the comfort of this place that has been our beloved home.

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Back at it

Operation Relocation is back in full-swing. After our house failed to sell earlier this year, we have been enjoying something of a house-selling hiatus. I use the term ‘enjoying’ very loosely here. You see, it’s been the depths of winter here in Wellington, and we have spent most of the past 2 months hosting a veritable smorgasbord of winter bugs. “Cough, hack, sneeze” will long be remembered as the soundtrack to our last ever winter in the Windy City.

Snow on the hills and bugs in the air. It must be winter.

Snow on the hills and bugs in the air. It must be winter.

I talked a while ago about Plan B. In this plan we were going to put the house on the market in the deep, dark, depths of winter. A time when the property market is so incredibly slow. Oh, AND we were going to do it without an estate agent (we’ve never even sold a house by ourselves before). Crazy!? Yeah, probably. I think we were feeling a bit desperate at the time. Thankfully, common sense prevailed (actually I think that the winter bugs came to visit around the same time, and so we just couldn’t be bothered with it all).

So, here we are in Wellington, still. Waiting, waiting….

I’ve been keeping a watch on the property market during our hiatus, and according to my highly untrained eye, I think soon could be a good time to get going again. So, yesterday I met with a new estate agent. He had a look at the house. We talked a bit about the market. I started to let myself think about Brisbane again, and how it might be to actually live there.

I have to be honest here. The enthusiasm and zeal that accompanied our initial plans to move back to Australia has waned somewhat. The disappointment of having our house not sell when we initially had it on the market, followed by an unplanned Wellington winter has sapped a whole lot of energy. I have even entertained thoughts of throwing in the towel, and just staying here in Wellington, for good. It would certainly be the easy option. Mr Maru is horrified by the idea. It’s also not what we want for our family. So, back at it we go.

Plan B

After a few months of floating in space wondering how the hell we were ever going to get back to Australia, we now have a plan. Another plan. I guess you could call this Plan B. It is not my usual style to have a plan go awry, but that is certainly what has happened so far this year. When we sat down at the end of 2013, we agreed a plan of action that would have us selling our Wellington house and moving back to the Lucky Country by May this year. At the latest. It’s now June. That plan obviously fell through.

Last week, I started making another plan. A different plan. In this plan, I was going to renew my New Zealand Occupational Therapy Practicing Certificate. I have been on maternity leave for a while now, and I am itching to get my business up and running again. I work with children who have developmental problems, and I absolutely love it. I have been treating a friends’ child over the past few weeks, just as a favour. What a revelation this has been for me. It has reminded me just how much I adore being an Occupational Therapist. The difference we can make to a child’s life is nothing short of profound, especially when you have a child and a set of parents who are totally engaged. This taste of my old professional life as made me hungrier to get back into it. I have so many ideas for developing my business, and I’m impatient!

So, I figured since we were still in New Zealand with no real plans of getting out of here that I should just get on and get started with my business ideas here in Wellington. I got out my note pad, and started making a list. I was getting very excited and the ideas were flowing. I have heaps of contacts here in Wellington, and I knew that I would have clients knocking at my door in no time. Hoorah! A plan! This was going to be great!

This past weekend I had a dream. In this dream I was living in Brisbane with my family. It was stinking hot and we were renovating a house. It was a chaotic dream and certainly devoid of any glamour or romance. But we were there, on the other side of the Tasman, getting on with the life we want to be living. When I woke up from this dream I was so totally pissed off. How damn annoying to still be here in Wellington, when the plan was to be in Brisbane by now. It put me in such a bad mood and I just couldn’t shake it off.

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So then I hatched a different plan. Plan B. The plan I referred to at the beginning of this blog. Starting my business up again here in Wellington is a bad idea. Sure, it would be great to sink my teeth into my therapy work here in Wellington, but it would be a distraction. I would be taking my eye off the ball. I need to focus on the Grand Plan, which means selling the house and getting to Australia.

So in the newly revised Plan B, we will spend June getting the house back up to show home status, and by the beginning of July we will have it back on the market. We have decided not to use an agent this time around which means with the money we save we can be more flexible with price. This will mean doing all the sales work ourselves, but it can’t be that hard, right!?

Come hell or high water we will be in Brisbane by the Spring!

Have you ever sold your house without an agent? Any tips welcomed!

The waiting place…

It’s May. Almost June. Winter is looming large. Those dreaded Wellington winds are blowing and the damn southerly is biting hard. The summer-time love affair I was enjoying with this city has soured. The house is off the market for the time being, and our move to Australia is feeling ever distant. The property market is still pretty dismal for sellers, so we are treading water, waiting for a change.

This weekend, my son and I were reading “Oh, the places you’ll go” by Dr. Seuss. In the story, he describes a most useless place, the waiting place, where people are just hanging about waiting for planes or trains or for their hair to grow. It was the most perfect description of our current state of idleness. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for the market to change; waiting for the winds to stop; waiting for the sun to shine; waiting for the house to sell… Oh, what a dismal old place this waiting place is!

20140527_110951I guess we all pass through the waiting place at different times in our lives. I have certainly been here before. It’s a very frustrating place to be, but I have also found that it’s a terrific incubator for ideas and determination. By the time our house sells, I will be so hungry to get to Australia. We’ll land in Brisbane and I will hit the ground running. After all this waiting around, I will be brimming with such drive and ambition that nothing will stop me!

For now though, I just need to tolerate these dormant moments, and keep reminding myself that this is just a temporary state. There’s nothing like a bit of Dr. Seuss philosophy to provide a little clarity.

New Merino and a Bolting Horse

A friend informed me the other day that 2014 is the Year of the Horse. Now, I don’t know much about the Chinese zodiac, but I do know that there has been more than just a touch of the bolting equine about the past few months in our household. At the risk of sounding prosaic, where the hell has this year gone!?

ImageWe find ourselves now in April (well, almost), and our house that was meant to sell in February is still on the market. It’s simple case of supply versus demand. The housing market is over-supplied and the punters are thin on the ground. We are now faced with a catalogue of decisions about the rest of the year. Do we take the house off the market for a while, or do we rent the house out and hightail it back to Australia? If we do stay, then which school should we enrol our son in when he starts in October? If we go then how do we juggle the logistics of selling a house remotely? I feel a bit irritated with having to ponder all of this. The Grand Plan had us selling the house back in February and being all settled back into Aussie life, complaining about all this heat, by now.

I found myself at the shops the other day, perusing merino for the kids. I even made a few purchases. Here in Wellington, this is what you do at this time of year. You invest in new winter woollies in anticipation of the coming winter chills. The fact that I have made these habitual purchases gives some hint as to my state of mind. I keep thinking that in a parallel universe I’m living it up in sunny Brisbane, buying sunscreen in bulk and throwing another shrimp on the barbie.

ImageIn the midst of all this chaos and uncertainty, I am mostly keeping up with my goal of being calm on purpose. There are times when the anxiety of the unknown abducts me and holds me for ransom. I pay the ransom fee (usually about 5 uninterrupted minutes of quality time with a bar of chocolate) and then I just get on with it.

I’m not sure there’s anything that can be done to tame my unruly Horse? I guess I just need to hold on tight and let it take me where it will. If that means we stay here in Wellington, well then at least the kids have new merino.

Has your Year of the Horse jumped the fence and bolted up the road like mine?

In the beginning….

So I think it’s appropriate at this early stage to set the scene. I currently live in Wellington, New Zealand. A city famous for its coffee, perilous airport landings, and of course the wind! It is also a stunningly beautiful city with its rugged coastline, mountain views and what someone once described to me as, champagne air. It took me some time to really get Wellington, but after living here for almost 5 years I can now, hand on heart, say that I have fallen in love with her. Her wild, uncontained beauty seems to have gotten under my skin. It’s like she’s this wise, weathered, charming, and at times cantankerous old lady, who dances to her own tune and simply refuses to toe the line. Some days she’s a shining beauty, with her cheeks rouged and her hair just so. And then there’s the other days…. On those days she’s all snarky and snappy and ready to bowl you over with a single devilish glance. It is with this backdrop that I have lived some of the most pivotal moments of my life; the births of my three children; the death of one; and this city has somehow buffered me and offered solace throughout. I owe her a lot.

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I think it’s probably because we’re leaving that I suddenly find myself all nostalgic and reflective? I wonder if I’d feel the same if I knew that I was looking down the barrel of yet another bone chilling Wellington winter, with her howling southerly for company? I guess it doesn’t pay to wonder too much? It can only be a good thing to leave a place that you have called home with a full and warm heart.

So after almost five years, we have decided to answer the call of home and move our little family back to Australia. To say that it is going to be a mission is probably an understatement. We will be selling our Wellington house, shipping all our worldly possessions, farewelling our beloved friends, moving to a brand new city that we’ve only ever visited a handful of times, buying a new house, re-establishing our careers in a new town etc etc….. all while wrangling Mr 4years and Ms 6months.

Despite all the madness that this next year will no doubt bring, it is my plan to embrace it all, the good, the bad and the downright ugly, with a sense of purposeful calmness. I want to experience it all with a level head and a fundamental sense of optimism. By doing this I hope to be able to offer my children a real sense of security during this time of uncertainty and upheaval. The challenge however, is that my normal state is that of the mildly neurotic mother lion, who dislikes change and enjoys a predictable routine. Hold on tight, it’s gonna be an exciting trip….