The Big Project : We Moved In!

A few weeks ago we finally moved in to the house we've been renovating for…well, a very long time. It's our first house - both in terms of it not being an apartment and in terms of it being something we actually own. Exciting, and overwhelming. 

Being in the house is great but it's also really, really messy and a little frustrating. There is still so much that needs to be done. There's still little unfinished bits everywhere. And there's still big unfinished bits everywhere - nowhere to put our clothes (so we're still living out of suitcases), nowhere to put our books (hence all the boxes patiently waiting to be unpacked in that photo up there); no garage, no garden. 

Some of our furniture doesn't fit the space, at all. (Which is kind of secretly awesome because yay! furniture shopping, and I never really liked our couch anyway…). 

So clearly things aren't perfect, and they won't be for a long time.

But, it's still ace being home. No more nomadic life, no more paying riduclous amounts for serviced apartments, no dogs at the boarding kennel. 

And as annoying as the dust and the early mornings are, I'm actually enjoying seeing the tradies come and go, seeing things getting fixed and finished, each day. Seeing progress being made.

And getting to know the house and the neighbourhood is pretty ace too. A few years ago we bought a dark, dank terrace with potential - now we have a beautiful house with light in every corner (thanks Alex!). 

I love watching the light change throughout the day, moving across the space. I love the kitchen, which was basically designed around the Coco Flip pendant light which stole my heart some time ago. 

I love the family of currawongs that live on our street (I don't love it so much when they get trapped in the house though). I love the parrots and kookaburras and cockatoos, and the bats that fly overhead en masse at night. 

I love that we have so many tasty options for when we can't be bothered to cook and want to walk somewhere for dinner (we've barely scratched the surface but my favourites so far are the fancy Italian here, the burger here, and the pizza here). I love that there's a dog on (almost) every porch, and people that smile and say hi when you pass them in the street. 

We're still getting to know each other, this home and I, but I think we're going to get along just fine…

Three More Emotions of Repatriation

Emotion 7 - Getting Stuff Done 

It starts getting near the pointy end, near to the actual moving day, and you get down to business. You are focussed. You are a machine. An email sending, form filling, hotel booking machine. You make categorised, prioritised lists of things you need to do. And then you do them. You organise import permits and insurance. You cancel your cable, find a home for your fish. You book storage units and flights and serviced apartments. 

You don't ponder the pros and cons, you don't mope about this or that, you just get stuff done. You don't waste time with things you'd normally enjoy, like preparing delicious meals, you just eat whatever's easy and you get stuff done. You barely sleep, you stay off Twitter / Facebook / Instagram / Candy Crush for hours at a time (okay, maybe it was just the one hour), you don't blog or play with Photoshop. You just get stuff done. 

Emotion 8 - Delirium / Exhaustion 

You see all those ticks on your to do list and you think 'I am so freaking organised! I am the freaking QUEEN of getting stuff done!'. And then, seeing as you are a queen and all, you ask the dogs to curtsey before you. And you wonder if someone should make you a crown. And you giggle to yourself, a little hysterically. And you think - perhaps it's time for bed...

And you wake up the next morning and your eyes are scratchy and your throat is sore and your glands are swollen. And lots of people tell you to take it easy, take a rest. So you do. You sleep in, and you spend a day reading, and listening to the radio, and mainlining vitamin C and zinc. You have a soothing soup for lunch and later you play sous chef to your husband while he cooks up a tasty dinner. The next day you're refreshed and ready to take it all on again. 

Emotion 9 - The Grab Bag 

You don't really feel an emotion, you feel all the emotions. Not quite at once but in rapid, ever changing succession. Little things set you off. Frustration, triumph, annoyance, elation, depression, fear, stress, excitement, confidence, happiness, tranquility...all wash over you a few times a day. 

You book a beach holiday with the dogs (something you haven't been able to do in Korea) and you feel extravagantly happy. You plan to see your family just before xmas (something you haven't been able to do while living overseas) and you feel overwhelming excitement. 

But then you book a boarding kennel for the dogs, it's where they'll live while you're in the serviced apartment, and you feel indescribably sad (and strangely afraid). You go to the vets to get a lump tested on one of the dogs, and you can't help but shed a tear or two while waiting for the results. You think 'What if it's bad? What will we do?'. After ten minutes they say they're 90% sure it's not bad, and you are so ridiculously relieved and thankful. 

Later, you look at the husband's planner and say 'Oh - you're going to Hong Kong? I'll come too...' but then your voice trails off when you realise by then Hong Kong will be eight hours away, not three. You're reminded that things are going to change; things are going to be very different, very soon. You find out a bill hasn't been paid, an email has bounced back, your credit card has been cancelled - and you feel annoyance and frustration out of all proportion to the situation. 

You realise perhaps you are not quite as refreshed and ready as you thought. So you go to the gym, and then do some stuff. You edit a bunch of photos, and then do some stuff. You have lunch with a friend, and then do some stuff. You realise that there's no mad race, that you are actually pretty organised, that things will fall in to place. That it's about balance, and that if you look after yourself you'll do a better job of everything. And that you need to take the time to savour the days you have left in this crazy city.

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If you're wondering what the first six emotions of repatriation are you can read all about them here. You may want to have a stiff drink handy. 

And yes, for the quibblers, I understand some of these aren't technically 'emotions'. But I don't care.

The Six Emotions of Repatriation* (so far)

Emotion 1 - Excitement 

Finally! You get confirmation that the move back home (that's been a possibly, maybe for the past six months) is definite, it's happening! And although the move is still many months away you feel joy, excitement, elation. 'I'm going home!' you think. Back to good restaurants and shoes that fit me and English speakers and lamb, delicious lamb and my family, my sister and my nephews, and well priced delicious wine and trips to the beach with the dogs and friends, old and new, and clean air and, and, and! You think 'life is going to be easy again!'. 

Emotion 2 - Fear 

You think 'life is going to be easy again.' You realise that you love living abroad, being a stranger. You love the day to day challenges; the living in blissful ignorance, not speaking English for days on end. You love the apartment you've been living in for 3+ years; it feels like home. 

On a trip back to Australia you walk down Pitt Street Mall in Sydney, trying to really imagine living in this city again, and all you can think is that it feels like a small country town. Quiet, isolated, remote. And you are not special there. You think 'is this the end of adventure? Is my life just going to be a comfortable beige blur from now on?'. 

And then you think about the move a bit more and you realise that you can't use visa restrictions and language barriers as an excuse any more, people are going to expect you to get out there and do something with your life. Which scares you. 

And then there's the uncertainty, the questions. Where can I find 4 dollar soupy noodles in Sydney? (I'm pretty sure the answer is - nowhere). How will we manage 'co-parenting' when everyone's living in the same city, the same country? Will I go to parent-teacher night? How will I get my fix of cheap, cute stationery? How will I cope with shop assistants talking to me, in English? Does the husband really expect me to do the ironing? You fear the big stuff - becoming stagnant; changing roles and relationships - and you fear the little stuff. 

Emotion 3 - Regret 

You realise the move really is on and time is running out, and a strange thing happens. All those things that were driving you completely crazy about Korea (or insert-your-expat-country-name-here), those things that had you weeping with frustration, they disappear. Suddenly all you notice is how breathtakingly pretty the city looks in Spring, how much you love kim chi, how great the shopping is. You notice how comfortable you feel in your neighbourhood - even though you'll never look like a local, you feel kind of like a local. And even though logically you know all the (very valid) reasons why you made the decision to move back home, emotionally you feel a sort of soft regret. 

And you think of all those weekend trips to places that are (relatively) short hops away (Kyoto, Suzhou, to name two) that you never took. The road trips, the city excursions, the hikes. The craft and cooking classes. The blog posts you never wrote...time is running out. 

Emotion 4 - Panic 

As the move looms closer, you start to panic. Panic at the thought of all that stuff (oh, so much stuff!) that needs to be moved across oceans. Bouts of de-cluttering follow. With a slightly manic glint in your eye, you throw out whole boxes of scrap paper, a stack of DVDs you'll never watch again and a broken faux-Meccano roller coaster. You try to get the step-sons enthused about the process, but instead the youngest one just holds up a single piece of crumpled paper and asks 'soooo...do you think I should keep this?'. 

Then you start thinking about the actual move, and panic turns to stress. Yes there's the packing and unpacking, but there's also the disconnecting and connecting (phone, internet, gas, water, DTV...). And what do you do with the goldfish? And the pot plants? Then there's the transporting of dachshunds; the finding of doctors and dentists and waxers. And vets. Oh, and you need to find somewhere to live, for a little while, until you can move in to what will be your Home (yes, with a capital 'H'). And you realise when it comes to quality short term accommodation Sydney is the worst. And pet friendly? No way. 

Emotion 5 - Depression 

So you realise that for the first few months after the move you're probably going to be living in a soulless apartment that's over your budget. And the dogs, your dogs, will be spending time in quarantine and maybe then living at a boarding kennel. And everything will feel, will be, temporary. Again. 

And then something little happens, just an everyday frustration, and it's enough to push you over the edge. And you realise you may have just yelled at some poor customer service person, or maybe you're sitting at your computer with tears in your eyes and your not quite sure why. You realise it's because you don't actually deal very well with uncertainty, and everything, everything is uncertain right now. 

Time for a stroll in the sunshine, a good meal, a good book, a glass of wine. Some pom pom making. Time for a deep breath. 

Emotion 6 - Acceptance 

You remember all that management training about circle of influence / circle of concern. You realise you cannot control everything, and that actually that's part of what you've loved about living overseas. You write a list and start working on what you can, and let go of what you can't. You start cramming in all those city excursions and blog posts. You make plans for next year, for when you are Home; things you want to achieve that could not have been possible whilst you were living abroad. You get excited about the possibilities again. And you realise that no, it's not the end of adventure. That it's the start of something new. And just like the past 6 years it will be both wonderful and mundane. 

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*Is it just me or is repatriation a really ugly word? It kind of sounds like a medical procedure or some sort of 'enhanced interrogation' technique...