the things not said

When you move from one country to another, you have to be flexible about your living arrangements.  Ultimately, you are going to be unsettled for a significant period of time, and you need to be OK with that.  I think there are ways of making it less stressful, but they require money being no object. It would be things like setting up a house in advance of you moving, or living in a furnished house for three months whilst you wait for your belongings to arrive on a ship, or owning properties in various parts of the world…that sort of thing.

I have learnt a lot about myself in this area of emigration.  Main thing being, to have the ability to make the most of a situation when it’s not comfortable for me.  In our family, I am the home maker.  I don’t mean Gareth doesn’t have a part to play in building our home, his DIY skills are second to none and he puts up shelves like a champ, but as it’s me who is at home more and handles the day to day care of our children, it falls to me to make wherever we are habitable, be it a hotel room or an unfurnished rental.  Also I am a woman and in general we are naturally more aware of the environment we live in, examples being: I keep track of how long it’s been since sheets were washed, I prefer used mugs to go in the dishwasher, not left on the bedside table and I am aware that a toilet does not clean itself.

When you are moving a little family to a strange and far off land, their comfort and sense of home is a priority, because if they are unsettled then everyone is.  You get less sleep, dropping them off at school takes a really long time, things get broken, tears are an hourly accurance and the number of times you have to go looking for a lost toy increases tenfold.  This means, whenever we move into a new place, the first task is setting up the children’s space.

At the moment Gareth and I are sleeping in the living room of our rented house.  We bought what looks like an extra long foot stool that folds out into a double bed for us to sleep on.  It’s not a sofabed so there is no mattress and we are effectively sleeping on an upholstered plank of wood. We stay in the living room so the children have somewhere to sit during the day.  They often eat packets of crisps and digestive biscuits whilst sat on our bed so we sleep on a crumbly, upholstered plank of wood.

The children however have brand new beds that we put up in 24 hours of moving into the house and I still have blisters on my hands from screwing in 10,000 slats on the bunk bed of Minnie’s dreams. They also have drawers and wardrobes and special boxes to put their toys in.  Our suitcases are still open on the floor of the bedroom we don’t sleep in.

However, the children have somewhere to sleep and to be sent to when they are doing my head in.  They are not allowed to complain about being uncomfortable and not being able to get to sleep. And I can tell them to pick up their stuff and put it in their bedroom and they have no excuses.  This means living in an otherwise unfurnished house, is bearable.

When we moved to Christchurch, we lived in a furnished house until we bought the house we then lived in for the next five years.  The upside of this was that we didn’t have to buy a second toaster, kettle, set of cutlery, crockery, pans, sharp knives, glasses, iron, ironing board and microwave like we have just done here.  However the downside was that we slept on beds that other people had slept on (I can put this to the back of my mind for a week in a hotel but for three months it wears me down), there was a much higher chance of us damaging the landlord’s things and it’s generally a much higher rent. I think it’s harder doing it the way we are now as in order to curb the costs you do have to live without a lot of things, but I still probably prefer it because I don’t actually like living in a place that someone else has set up.

It’s been a really sunny week here, the weather is gorgeous and the place we live in is stunning – there are so many walks I could do from our house and as I am beginning my rehab from back surgery I should be making the most of the opportunity, but I’m not. Instead I am spending the week painting in our house.  The owner has a list of things he’s committed to getting done to get the house tidied up for us. I’m super pleased this list includes a new shower in the bathroom! But there are things I wanted to do to make this place our home.  I know it may only be for 12 months, and it’s time and money we won’t get back, but this is our home for now and I want to enjoy being in it, to have family and friends come visit. I want it to fit the rhythm of our lives and even though we don’t own it, I want it to feel like ours.  So I am painting and putting up new curtains that were on sale in John Lewis.

It’s one of the biggest challenges of emigrating but building a home is one of the most important things you do, so that your family can be happy wherever you are.

A self-confessed lover of lists, I do like a good Top Ten of anything.  Whilst this is a challenging time in life at the moment, it’s not without some happy moments for our family.  So I thought it would be good for me to start this week with a list of things I really love about the UK. These are some things that I missed whilst I was away and other things that I didn’t miss but I’ve realised in the last few weeks of being back, they make the return that little bit better.

Friends and family

As my mum said today, when she dropped in on her way to take her aunt away for a weeks holiday, “It’s nice to see you without having to take a 30 hour journey.” Even though we have moved to an area of England that we don’t know, and don’t know anyone who lives here, we are a drive away from all our family and lifelong friends.  The ‘catch-up’ list is huge (and daunting), but it will be lovely to spend a summer seeing lots of people we love and haven’t seen for five years.

Marks and Spencers, and John Lewis

Moving back wasn’t particularly planned and felt very rushed at the time.  Sometimes I would be gripped with the fear that we were doing the wrong thing.  One of my comforting thoughts was that at least there would be Marks and Spencers Food Halls to visit. They have not disappointed, their ready-made meals and selections of sweet and savoury snacks make me so happy.  I also realised last week that there is nowhere like John Lewis in New Zealand, with all its quality goods and many and varied departments.

Central heating

I am not going to talk about this much now, as I feel I have banged this particular drum more times than is polite (politeness: something else I love about England, so I’m sneaking it in as a bonus point), but I cannot describe the pure joy it is to nudge a dial and 15 minutes later, your entire house feels warm.  Not just the room the switch is in, THE WHOLE HOUSE!  It’s a wonderful thing peoples.

British television

Granted, we still haven’t watched any television because our TV is on a ship sailing towards some UK port right now, but when it does arrive, I am going to buy that licence and bask in the delights of BBC dramas, British comedy and The Great British Bake Off. Yes you heard me, I don’t care that it’s gone to Channel Four. I refuse to despair until they have definitely ruined it.  I don’t even think I will mind the adverts because after five years of New Zealand TV ads, these are going to be Oscar worthy in comparison!

Online shopping

Of course New Zealand has online shopping but it’s just not as good.  Only one supermarket offers online shopping and then you have to pay $13 for the delivery, no matter how much you spend.  In the UK, all shops sell online and most of the time you will get your order within three days.  This is an upside to living in an over populated country – more of a demand, equals competitive service.

The way the English is spoken

I LOVE the Kiwi accent and feel very sad that our children seem to have dropped their accents immediately, seriously Minnie sounds like she has lived in the South of England her whole life?!? However there is something quite wonderful about the many accents and colloquialisms you can hear in just one day over here.  No one speaks english quite like the Brits.

The National Trust and all things historic and architecturally impressive

I love history and can get positively giddy with excitement when I visit a stately home. It’s what happens when you read way too much Austen and Bronte.  Coming back to my home country and seeing the architecture that is so typical of England has been an unexpected comfort as we lived first in Bath and now in rural Berkshire.  The house we are currently living in was built in the 18th Century, which is just fascinating right?  Who has lived in this house?  Who was it originally built for?  What has been changed over the years and why?  Has anything dramatic happened within these walls?

Pubs

It’s summer here and for me, there is nothing better on a sunny afternoon than to take the family to a good country pub, sit in the garden and order a hearty lunch with chips. We’ve only done it a couple of times since we got here but both were just as I wanted them to be; tasty food, friendly service, relaxed atmosphere, varied crowd of fellow punters. Charming.

Factor 50 isn’t always necessary

One of the activities that will undoubtedly cause a massive argument between child and parent in our family, is the application of sun screen.  In England, the weather and thicker ozone layer, simply does not require you to apply Factor 50 twice a day.  I can’t begin to tell you what a pleasant relief this is to us all.  Not having to automtically apply sun screen to my children before school is just fab.  An upside to living in a cooler, wetter country.  That said, I did almost get burnt this afternoon sat outside our local cafe, so it’s not all snow and blizzards over here.

Villages

I like the way villages have centres to them and green spaces with houses around them, and little lanes with cottages on, and beautiful gardens that aren’t blocked by high fences.  Most villages will have at least one pub, a bus stop, a post office, a church and then maybe a hall, a cafe, a school and playing fields.  There is a sense of character and community in a village.  We live in a pretty little village, over the river from another pretty village.  Between them they have two big playing fields, two schools, five pubs, four churches, a butchers, a grocers, two cafes, a post office, a library, a hardware shop, a doctors surgery, a dentist, a hairdressers, a train station, even a mountain bike shop and an interior design shop.  I’m enjoying visiting them all and becoming part of the community.

There is a lot of good things in the UK and I think it’s often the Brits who will be the first to dismiss it.  Perhaps it takes an extended period of time away from a place to realise there are things to celebrate in the return.

Our house in New Zealand officially sold whilst we were sleeping last night.

Out of the three houses we have owned so far, this was by far my favourite.  I always pinched myself that the house was ours when I drove up the road and turned into the drive.  It wasn’t perfect and we had to do a lot of work to get it how we wanted it but from the minute I first viewed it, I loved it.

Our first home in New Zealand, it is full of memories and significance.  Our children grew from one/two up to six/seven in this house – that’s a lot of time with all the family in the home.  It was such a lovely home, with a great sized private garden in the back and lots of rooms to spread out in and manage the mess.

We knocked a couple of walls down so I could have a dream kitchen with a big island in the middle, a butler’s pantry and huge amounts of shelves (I’m a little bit in love with shelves).  It had folding doors that flowed out onto the decking, so we were able to host alsorts of gatherings, and we put in an ensuite to the guest room so we could host visiting family with ease.

It was the right decision to sell as I don’t think I could have kept owning it whilst someone else lived in it, but I do feel very sad to let it go.

To get something equivalent where we are living now, I think we would have to sell a couple of organs and work until we were ninety.  I look around for what we have become used to; detached, a garden, big kitchen and living space and I want to cry at the prices!

I know we will find another house we can turn into a home but I have a feeling it will be a few years before we get the place that has the same X Factor that Francis Avenue had.

When it comes to affordable housing in desirable places, New Zealand wins.

I believe that children grow well when they have routine. It gives them security, helps them to feel they are part of something, it teaches discipline and as they grow, they are empowered to play their part in a family’s routine.

From the day our babies were born, Gareth and I committed to creating routines for them.  In the beginning it was essentially for sleeping, eating and playing.

A family where both children are in school, both parents are working, you’re members of a church, you excercise, own a dog, shop online, have a garden, a routine is essential. As our children were trained from birth to embrace routine, they have generally been happy and secure in the rhythm and flow of Team Cowles.

That is until February, when the routine began to be systematically disestablished. Gareth was offered a job in the UK, which coincided with family news that convinced us it was time to go back. Once the decision was made, operation ‘all-change’ began.

We told the children we were moving back as soon as we could. Jackson wriggled and squirmed throughout the family meeting and only really took an interest in the matter of exactly how a container of our belongings was going to be physically put onto a ship. Minnie was delighted because in her mind, we were returning to the village where all the family from the UK were living together and we would see them all the time.

Gradually changes began.  We decided to sell our house but in order to do that we had to do several “touch ups”, which included recladding the garage, painting the outside of the house, getting a new kitchen floor laid, a picket fence put out front and the list went on and on. Cue Mummy and Daddy spending every weekend sanding and painting, while the children were either palmed off onto friends for play dates or they had to stay at home and be ignored by their parents the whole time.

Darcy, the most wonderful family dog in the world, was given away. It was crazy expensive to transport her and as we didn’t know where we would be living we couldn’t be sure we’d find a rental that would allow her. We’ve regretted that decision so much and if I’m honest I have this tiny hope that we’ll get an email from the family one day, saying it’s not working out and could we take her back – YES!

There were so many changes, some not even connected to the move, like me having back surgery four weeks before the flight home!

It’s often said children are adaptable and resilient, which I also believe to be true. However, they are not robots and whilst they do adapt to change, they find ways to help them adapt. Not all of them healthy.

A major response to the changes in our family life gradually happened over the first month after the big decision.  Indeed we’re still trying to get a handle on it now. Essentially, their behaviour took a nose dive.  They started shouting at us more, barking orders, getting upset quickly if we didn’t do things the minute they asked for them and they would squabble with each other. End. Less. Ly.  Who have they learnt all this from I wonder?!  Could it be their stressed out, distracted parents who act exactly the same way?

We are acutely aware of how little time and attention we have given our children in the last five months and that we are living through the consequences of this.  If you don’t invest time, patience, fun and focus into your relationships with your children, then the return is going to be poor.  I know our children aren’t angels and a level of naughtiness is to be expected, particularly at their ages, but their love tanks are empty and it’s up to us to fill them back up again.

There are other, more specific reactions connected to the move too.  They are easy to spot in Jackson, as he is much like me in the way he likes to be in control.  He’s an organiser, a planner, someone who sees a goal and works out how to get there in the blink of an eye.

Once Jackson heard about the container that would take our stuff to the other side of the world, he started packing.  This was two months before we were leaving!  For a couple of weeks he would spend his bedtime organising his toys.  One night he used up a whole box of plastic zip lock bags to pack up his collection of Matchbox cars.

I remember for years after my parents divorced, I suffered from a fairly signifcant level of OCD.  When I was in primary school I would wash my hands constantly and if certain children (smelly boys) touched things, I would avoid touching them after.  Later it was closing my curtains or cleaning my teeth; night time rituals I would repeat over and over again until they were completed perfectly.  In my teens, this morphed into an eating disorder which lasted into my early twenties.  Quite a lot of counselling and prayer helped me understand that it stemed from my need to have control, if things around me were not in my control, I would over focus on what I could control.  Over time you learn you will never be in control of everything and shit happens, so just let it go already because no amount of checking the light switches is going to make it stop.

My parents divorcing meant there were lots of changes I couldn’t control happening all around me, so my first coping mechanism was to look after my personal hygiene.  Oddly enough, that’s what Jackson is up to.  Nothing too crippling but significant enough for us to notice that he has found some rituals to help him cope with the changes that are happening around him.

I had thought Minnie was adapting with little concern (only a madam attitude, which I am reliably informed is typical of seven year old girls), but now that we are in the UK and I have some capacity to properly observe her, I realise that she has become more insecure. Things that would have never worried her in the past are huge challenges for her now.  Last night she had a nightmare, which was most certainly rooted in fear of things happening out of her control.

We will stop moving soon, and a routine is already being established.  We’ll go back to being parents that spend time with their children, that don’t have anything to paint and can take them out on a date without it needing to be at a DIY store.

Moving to a new country with young children is very different to emigrating with two babies. They are aware of the changes in a much deeper way, their minds try to understand and engage with the process and whilst they do adapt, it doesn’t happen instantly.

I’m hoping we haven’t caused any irreparable damage.  In fact there is a good chance the experience will build character in our growing buds. Though I think it will take some wisdom on our part to help them get there.

When you emigrate, it’s like an adventure.  At least it was for us.  It’s daunting for sure, but the excitement of living in a new country, discovering a whole other part of the world – that’s a special opportunity that we knew we were blessed to have.  Gareth had a great job offer and we were moving to New Zealand, where so many of our friends and family had visited, coming back with wonderful reviews of the scenery, the people, the food and way of life.

We’d had a hard time bringing our two babies into the world, but they had arrived safely and we had our family.  I wanted to leave, because as a country girl at heart I felt claustrophic in a busy city and I wanted some space.  Ironically in the months leading up to our departure we had even less space.  Our house had sold quickly and so whilst we waited for the visas to go through we lodged with a family.  Their house was huge and they very generously gave us three bedrooms so the children each had a room, but after five months with a new born baby and toddler, living in someone else’s home – I was struggling to breathe!

Finally the visas came and we were on our way.  It felt like such a release.

We went through the 32 hours travel with two young children and somehow it didn’t seem so bad.  In the first three weeks of being in New Zealand we lived in three different places.  We moved from the end of the UK winter into the beginning of the NZ autumn.  We’d never set foot in the country, so we had to begin everything from scratch; bank accounts, mobile phones, doctors, childcare, contact lenses, literally everything.  Jackson was being weened and Minnie was midway through her terrible two’s.  There were daily stresses but I remember it as a really fun time.

Meeting people in their own country is lovely.  They open their homes to you, go out of their way to help you, they find you interesting even when you’re actually pretty average.  Every day you discover new things, because everything is new.  Or when you find something familiar, like The Graham Norton Show on their TV or a pack of Tunnock’s Teacakes in the international food section of your local supermarket, you realise you’re not totally out of place.

I was really conscious that in the first six to 12 months of our life in New Zealand I would constantly make comparisons of the differences between NZ and UK.  Sometimes it was amazement at how much more pleasant it was to live in NZ, sometimes it was total shock at the things that hadn’t quite made it over there.  I’m sure our new friends got sick of hearing about central heating and online shopping but I hope it was balanced out by genuine admiration for a country that was so joyful to live in.

At some point in the following years, I began to feel less like an immigrant and more like a resident.  I think a major factor in you settling in a country or in fact any new place you move to, is how your children are in that place.  If they are happy, if they feel at home, have friends, relate to the community around them, find things they love to do, experience life in a positive way, then you allow that place to become home to you.

In the five years that we lived in NZ, the children and I didn’t go back to the UK once, so the fact that life in the UK was a memory and NZ life had been constant for a number of years, meant that we all began to feel more at home there than anywhere else. In the last year I would often make the mistake of thinking someone was english when they were in fact kiwi. Reflecting on that now, I think it was because I no longer heard the kiwi accent, it sounded normal to me.  I don’t think I picked it up (sadly for this languages student I don’t “do” accents), but being totally surrounded by it for so long, I just didn’t hear it anymore.  I had become immersed.

What I have discovered in the last four weeks, is that repatriation is not as much fun as emigration.  It’s early days and I am open to the fact that the first month in NZ might have been harder than I remember now.  Both moves have equal amounts of frustrations related to stopping your life in one place and then starting it again two days later on the other side of the world.  But coming back to your home country is not as exciting, you are returning from the adventurous unknown, to the familiar and expected.  I don’t want to sound like it’s therefore negative, it’s not and there are so many positives to returning to your home country, which I will most likely dedicate a whole blog to at some point.

For me, it feels like emigration is about starting and repatriation is about ending.  We started an adventure by emigrating to NZ, so by moving back to the UK, our adventure in NZ has ended (for now). And when something good ends, it’s sad. As I write, I worry that our UK friends and family will be offended by this, like I’m sad to come back to them.  That’s not it at all, because I had desperate moments of homesickness when I was in NZ and it’s so good to make plans to meet up with friends we haven’t seen in years.  I am sad right now for what we have left, our friends (including our dog) and our life in NZ, because it was a good life, it was my life.

I think by emigrating we created two homes.  And it means that no matter which one I live in, there will always be a part of me that misses the other.

My family and I have just recently repatriated back to the UK.  We moved over to New Zealand in March 2012 when my husband got a job working on the infrastructure rebuild of Christchurch, after the major earthquakes of 2010 and 2011.

When we left the UK, we had just lived through a really hard five years trying to get pregnant, doing IVF and then having two babies in quick succession.  Our babies were nearly one and just gone two when we began our long journey over to the other side of the world to begin a family adventure.

We didn’t know how long we would stay in NZ for, as neither of us had ever stepped foot on the land of the long white cloud and we knew only a couple of people.  We committed to three years, but then within a couple of months I felt like we could stay there forever. We bought a house, joined a church, made friends, Gareth worked hard and loved every second of it and I picked up my own work, which ended up being some of the best work I have ever done.

New Zealand is a beautiful country and the people are so welcoming and relaxed.  It was very easy to become at home there.  At the end of our first year we began a major renovation of our house, which turned it into our home. In our second year we bought a puppy, who became the fifth member of our family.  In our third year, Minnie started school. In the fourth year, I had a job that really didn’t fit me and Gareth moved out of the rebuild programme – both of us struggled and in that year we missed home a lot.

By the fifth year I stepped into what was for me my dream job in a team that I loved instantly and although Gareth was given a tough role at his work, he pushed through and, as always, began to excel.  Coming to the end of our fifth year it felt like we were finally settling, getting into our groove.

And yet in February this year, we made the decision to move back to the UK.  Sell our lovely home, give our dog away to a new family (who are so so lucky to have the best dog in the world), take our children out of the school they loved, remove me from my work family and say goodbye to some super precious friends.

Of course there were some really valid reasons for coming back to the UK, not least because all our family live here and we have precious friends here too.  Also there is central heating in the UK…

From February onwards, it’s been a relentless mission to leave one country and then arrive in the other.  We have moved to a place in the UK that neither of us know at all – we are now residents of the South of England for the first time in our lives!  Leading up to the move, on top of normal life, we repainted our house and prepared it for sale, I had back surgery four weeks before we flew back to the UK, then in the four weeks since we landed we have had to find a place to live, get the children in school, Gareth has started a new job, we bought a car, set up the usual accounts needed for modern life to work and tried to get to know our new locality.

Today is the first day in seven weeks that my children have gone to school and therefore the first day in the same time period that I have had some time to myself.

Over the last six months I have had so many thoughts and emotions about my life and what was happening in it.  I really wanted to blog about it whilst it was going on but I literally had no time or space to get anything coherent down.

We have seven weeks until schools break up for the summer, that’s 35 days when I have five hours a day to myself.  I am going to give myself up to an hour of each day to write a blog, giving myself the opportunity to work through all the thoughts, memories, emotions and ideas I can recall from the last six months.

It’s a way for me to work through what has been a very overwhelming chapter of life and to get back into blogging again.  For those of you who know me, it might be interesting and for anyone who has emigrated or is planning to, it will hopefully be encouraging/edifying.

See you tomorrow.

A friend of mine is going through a REALLY tough time at the moment and she was telling me how someone had said to her that she had to see herself as her loved ones and friends see her.

I’ve been thinking about that ever since, and it struck me that maybe she doesn’t know how her friends see her because we don’t always say what we think about our friends do we? I mean we might occasionally say something encouraging, empathise in a situation or pay a compliment but do we tell our friends all the reasons why we love them?

So this is for you my friend, so you can see what I see.

You light up the room when you are in it. You always look good in the outfits you wear, you put yourself together perfectly and you smell delicious. You obviously pay attention to the way that you look but it doesn’t consume you, you are natural, not vain or obsessed. You have lovely skin, pretty eyes and a dainty form.

You’re full of energy, there is no apathy in you. I know you sometimes find it difficult to get out of bed but that’s your body telling you to rest because when you get up you’re going to give your all to the day. You are a warrior. You face fears with courage, you don’t shy away from a fight and don’t settle for second best.

You are a fierce lioness for your boys. You see them as only their mother can and you love them without end. I have seen you make decisions where you put their needs before yours and you have made tough decisions so they grow into men that others will love; not pampered, not spoilt, not selfish. You are not always with them, but there is a Father that watches over them, and your prayers protect them and fight for them.

You are a daughter of the Most High, fearfully and wonderfully made. A light that shines in the dark and never goes out. You are never alone. You are radiant, you were made for such a time as this, you have a purpose, you are being moulded into the heavenly you, a work is being done in you that will be completed.

A thief stole your other half but that doesn’t make you only half. You are full, you are whole, you are enough. You are valuable and treasured, you are seen and you have a place. You have a future and it is bountiful. You will have romance, you will be cherished, you will know faithfulness.

You’re feisty and imperfect with it, so you don’t get it right all of the time. But you are true, you are real, you are honest. I know I can trust you. You don’t hide, you let yourself be known so I can be sure of you, you might surprise me with flowers or a hand of help but you would never shock me with deceit or disappointment.

You are passionate about your work. That’s why your boss is so good to you, because she knows the return on her investment will be worth it. You care about the people you work for and work hard to give them the best.

You are strong and disciplined. When you set your mind to something you are relentless in your pursuit. Sure you might not succeed all the time but you never give up trying, you don’t take the easy route, you find a way to push forward. Hope gets you back up again.

Today is your day my friend, take it one step at a time. Don’t rush, be kind to yourself. Smile. Choose love because it will always beat hate and it will drive away fear.

This is how I see you my friend, look in the mirror and see this.