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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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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?

The whole bag

This week is a big week. It’s the fourth and final week of our property tender campaign. It’s the week that we’re supposed to sell our house. The weeks leading up to now have been a blur of house painting, wall sanding, de-cluttering and garden control (curse those weeds!), all mixed in with child wrangling. Then with the open homes. Gah, the open homes! What a mission they have been with our mess-oblivious, toy crazed, tornado child romping through the house. I never thought I’d say it, but thank goodness for the Disney Chanel. Never have I been so pleased to see my little son sitting zombie-like, eye’s glued to Jake and his Neverland Pirates. This is a child who, at his 3rd birthday, thought that a DVD was a book. My, how things have changed around here.

It was around the time of Mr4’s 3rd birthday that I also discovered something quite profound about myself. After a particularly stressful morning, I found myself with my head in the pantry, ferreting around the shelves for something sweetly satisfying. I had just had lunch and wasn’t at all hungry. This was a pattern that I had been quietly noticing over some weeks, but it was at that moment that the penny really dropped. I realised that day with a mouthful of rocky road, that I am a bona fide emotional eater. It’s true. The first sign of stress or anxiety and you’ll find me in the pantry. It’s the sweet, sugary delights that I crave – chocolates, cakes, icecream, lolly’s of any description – I don’t discriminate. My favourite are marshmallows. Seriously, in the middle of one of my son’s raving tantrums, nothing calms or comforts me quite like a handful of those little pink and white puffs of sugar. I must admit that I can never, ever just stop at one or two marshmallows. And actually, if I know they’re in the house, I simply can’t stop thinking about them until they’re all gone. This often results in me devouring the whole bag in just a few short hours. Yes, of course I feel totally disgusting afterwards, but when faced with a stressful situation my willpower abdicates and I’m left with an empty bag and a sickly sugar hangover.

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Anyway, back to the house sale. Just a few short months ago Wellingtons’ property market was especially favourable for sellers. Just 10 weeks ago a house a few doors down from us sold for $90K over the asking price. Fabulous! Fantastic! Hoorah! What great news for us! Hmm, I think we may have been a little hasty on the optimism. Thanks to some recent government regulation changes, a looming interest rate hike, and a sudden glut of properties on the market, these favourable conditions have apparently turned a little sour. The feedback from our agent is not great. There has been very little interest from the punters and it’s looking like our tender closing date this week will pass without any cause for celebration.

I’m trying very hard to take the philosophical route when I think about our house not selling this week…. it will happen when it’s meant to….. everything happens for a reason. Blah blah blah! But really, the obsessive planner/control freak inside me is going crazy with the uncertainty of it all. We really want to move back to Australia to be closer to our family and friends. We really don’t want to be in Wellington for another blustery winter. There’s a lot weighing on the sale of this house. So along with the stress and anxiety that all this uncertainty brings, come those devilish sugar cravings. We have a big year ahead with our relocation plans and undoubtedly, a whole lot more uncertainty and stress to come, and I’d like to be able to get through it without a mouthful of marshmallows for company.

Any suggestions out there for kicking the sugar habit?

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….