Home is where the Heart is

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It has been a very long time now that Wad and I have been in this routine.   By 'this routine' I mean that he works away all week and comes home to us at the weekend.  But that isn't even 'the routine' anymore.   There is no longer a routine. Wad's work absences have been stretching into increased periods away from hearth and home that now he can be apart from us for two weeks at the time... It's awful.   Bubble is now at an age where she now recognises that Daddy leaves and as such has some separation anxiety with him. When he is home, she won't let him out of her sight.   It is quite a stressful situation and only places more strain on the already taut nerves of our family unit.

It has been an even longer time that Wad and I have dreamed of relocating to Australia.   We're watching lots of family and friends flee the recession here in the UK to find their place in our dream and that's hard too. 


But in a way the 'routine' has made it more imperative for us to be together as a family than to find a way to Australia.   So Bubble and I are going to join Wad across the water.   We've found a cute little abode that will serve as our castle, from where we will plan our attack against the invading hordes of the double dip recession.   We'll stand together as a family unit because that is the only way we're going to get through this difficult period in our life.

And when it's over, we'll tell the story of our 'hard times' to our children, berating them on how easy life is for them... living in the sun, surfing every day, eating al fresco.   We'll tell them how hard we worked to get where we are, that they should work hard too so that they can enjoy the fruits of their labour.

And they will roll their eyes and stomp off, grumbling about Mum and Dad's 'life lecture' that they've heard a HUNDRED times before!

:o)

Off the radar

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I've been off the radar a bit.  I've been trying to get my head in gear.  Lots of little things have been trying me, not least that Bubble has upped her breastfeeding during the day to record amounts.  I'm pretty sure this is knackering me through her taking all my goodness so soon after being ill. (not seriously, Bubble and I just had a nasty headcold)  So I'm quite tired at the moment which means I'm less inclined to make the effort to post when Bubble hits the sack.

Another issue is a lond standing friend of mine has gone very cool on me. I'm used to her caustic humour but, of late, her comments have had an edge.  This is no new feeling.  Another of my long standing friends and I have been circling each other like cats for years now.  The loss of one is hard enough but the thought of losing the second is particularly upsetting.

I'm not an idiot.  I do wonder that it might be me and not them.  That I might just be one of those people who can't help but piss others off.  I really, really don't mean to.  I really, really don't know if I have but I certainly have no other explanation as to why the dislike creeps in.  I actually make a concerted effort to be as nice as possible.  But people do tire me.  I might not show it but I have very little patience for small-mindedness, bitching about others, judging others, hypocrisy, etc.  I could go on. 

Live and let live, I say.  If it's not hurting you or yours then who are you to complain?  Like long-term breastfeeding.  Yes my child is a toddler and she still breastfeeds.  No, it's none of your business.  I'm not hurting you, so why should you care?  It's not like I whop out a breast in the street and let her suckle but I do let her lead the breastfeeding in the privacy of my own home.  Which leads me back to the fact she's nursing ALOT. And that I'm tired.  Which means I'm a bit more sensitive than usual, I suppose.

Another addition to the pile is a frustated lead for our move to Australia.  It's not a 'no' but it's not a definitive 'yes'.  We need a 'yes' in our lives.  Wad and I need some light at the end of our tunnel.  We knew these hard times wouldn't be forever but we have to admit that on occasion it wears us down.  I was looking at photos of our travels back in 2006 and was shocked to see how much better and healthier Wad looked.  These last few years have really taken their toll on him.

I love my husband very much.  He works his backside off to keep us afloat.  It hurts me to see the change.

Keep your fingers crossed for us.

Keep your fingers crossed for a 'yes' in the near future.

:o)

What's for you...

...won't go by you.

Recently, if someone had said that to me one more time, I was going to spontaneously combust.  Not a religious type, I was getting to the point where I was beginning to believe some'one'/'thing' was deliberately trying to duff my life over. Since late 2006, my life has seen several kickings challenges.  Not at the worst end of the scale but high on the 'wearing-you-down' agenda were the Australia Frustrations.

In 2006 Wad's DesignInc job offer fell through, I already talked about that in an earlier post, but what really kicked us in the stomach was that six months later, after accepting permanent contracts in Scotland and literally days after purchasing a house, Wad received a job offer from an old friend in Sydney.  I felt sick.

Never mind, we reasoned, we bought the house to refurbish and sell to make a profit for our move to Australia (HA! I can assure you there WILL be a post on THAT particular tale!!).

2008 and the housing market is about to implode. We have really good savings.  So we start an application for skilled migration.  It's all going swimmingly and BAM! I get made redundant. We need the savings as a little financial bunce so we put the application on hold. 

2009 and I have a little part time contract work.  It's clear that we won't be able to afford the migration visa.  Another (crazy) option is for me to get a work hol visa, get out there, get a full time job and (after a few months of full time wages to build us up financially again) get sponsored.  Then bring Wad over on my visa.

It was a mad plan.  But we were passionate enough about emmigrating to do it...


...we were passionate all right.  I was pregnant!


A month later and we are chatting on the phone with AJ and UP.  They know how desperately we wanted to move and UP tells us of one of his friends in Rockhampton who is in dire need of architects in his office and is willing to sponsor foreign nationals.  We are nervously excited at the prospect (we had never considered QLD before) and ask them to give this man our details.

The following week I developed severe morning sickness which developed into hyperemesis the week after that.  By week 9 in my pregnancy I was hospitalised and all thoughts of Rockhampton were forgotten.  It took until week 17 in my pregnancy and the discovery of the right anti-sickness medication for me to feel human again.  By then we were too excited about the pregnancy and thought that it was probably for the best. 

It wasn't so long ago that Rockhampton was decimated by floods.

And here we are, almost 2 years since our last attempt, and I'm back in the saddle, effectively marketing my husband and his fabulous talents to the Australian market.

:o)

What's for you won't go by you and if it's meant to be it will be.

Warning... Melancholia Alert!

Today I have no trouble thinking of what to write about.  Today I have a topic that has been on my mind all day.   This topic is in my thoughts nearly every day... when I daydream about bigger and better things, this is what I daydream about.

Australia.

The northern beaches in Sydney in particular.  This is a story of unrequited love.  It began in 2006 when my husband and I went travelling.  We were touring South East Asia for a couple of hectic months before hopping on a flight to Sydney to stay for a while with Wad’s aunt and uncle (referred to as AJ and UP from here on in).  Wad had raved about Sydney the whole time I’d known him.  He had lived there for a gap year in the middle of university a few years before and vowed he’d come back to stay forever.   After the assault on my senses from Vietnam to Singapore (and everywhere in between) it was a welcome respite to nestle into my cultural comfort zone again...and I was curious what it was about this place that had Wad so enamoured.

On arrival it was rainy and grey.  We had taken the train from the airport into Circular Quay (Wad was keen to have me experience the Manly ferry on approach to AJ and UP’s home in Harbord) only to find the ferry was off.  We then waited, exhausted, for a bus that never came.  We called AJ but she had no car to collect us, so we took a taxi that ate a significant hole into our already failing cash supply.  Needless to say, I was not impressed.  I spent the next 36 hours trying to conquer my jetlag.

On the third day I awoke uber early to my first live performance of a kookaburra’s laughter.  Intrigued, I got up and went outside to see if I could spot it and as I searched to trees, it flew off, dragging my gaze across the vista of Curl Curl and Manly.  As spectacular as it was there was nothing outstanding about the view.  I have seen lots of stunning vistas and this wasn’t the most beautiful... but something about that moment, the morning noises of the native urban wildlife, the warmth of the early morning sun... the light was different – it made the colours of the landscape look more vivid, the faint sound of the surf.  I don’t know what it did to me but within those first few minutes I was smitten.   Wad startled me by joining me and putting his arm round me, saying, ”This is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives.”

I was so happy in that moment.  Wad and I were only married a few months and our whole lives seemed stretched ahead of us bubbling with good fortune and possibilities (we were newly qualified architects).  I was luxuriating in the knowledge that things were going to be just great.

Wad spent the next few months working on my induction to the Aussie lifestyle, most importantly, the early morning surf.  I am not suggesting for one second that I am in any way adept at this but I was hooked, despite near drowning experiences and post-surfing ‘nose bleeds’ (you can be standing having a cup of coffee several hours after your surf when all of a sudden a gallon of sea water pours out your nose). Not very attractive.  But then, I wasn’t your typical attractive surf chick – I just loved it.  I remember going for a (very amateur) surf the morning we were leaving, sitting on the beach and drinking it all in, *knowing* I’d be coming back with a job, a visa and my whole life ahead of me.  Hell, Wad already had a job offer from DesignInc, with the details to be ironed out when we were back on British turf.

That was five years ago.  The job offer fell through.  Although we were both under 30 Wad had already used his work hol visa and at the time I didn’t want to go out there without him. By the time we’d built up enough savings and I’d built up the courage, it was 2009 and the month before I was due to do it I fell pregnant with Bubble. Then the recession really hit.  Wad was made redundant.  We tried going through agencies but Aus was having its own recession and they were obviously giving local folk first preference. 

Ultimately, we still haven’t made it there.  I dreamed of raising my children in Australia but I’m raising Bubble here in the Ards Peninsula.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely little corner of the world but it’s not where we want to be.

They say what’s for you won’t go by you.  I can only hope that’s true.