It was 7 in the morning but felt like the middle of the night.
In my one arm sat the tired and heavy Adorable Boy, his head resting on my shoulder. With my free hand, I pushed a luggage cart piled eye-high with boxes and suitcases. Behind me, my steadfast helper, the Adorable Girl, wheeled one last suitcase down the aisle as we inched our way toward the customs desk.
Signs all around reminded us of the delicate ecosystem of the nation we were entering. Did we have any fresh foods (honey, cheese, milk -- do people really fly with milk??) to toss out? Did we have any outdoors equipment to claim? (Did our shoes count, I wondered, or the swimsuits I had packed?) All I knew -- after 14 hours in the air and months spent preparing for this journey -- was that I was ready to BE THERE. And we were so painfully close!
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A year and a half ago, we had a realization: It was time to move out of the DC area.
We had arrived there, almost by accident during the economic downturn of 2009. A job loss and a pregnancy meant we needed a new plan -- and Shane came through, landing a great job in Northern Virginia. The company helped us relocate, reimbursed us for the mortgage we carried on a home eight hours away (until we could sell it) and gave my husband a big career boost. I joked that we would name our first-born after the organization, so grateful were we for the opportunity they provided.
From one small (dumpy) rental we moved into another. I started working (at USA TODAY), and the Adorable Girl started preschool. The Adorable Boy made his way into the world just after we bought our first home in the area, and we spent nearly five years in that house. We bought a piano and the girl took lessons. We redid the landscaping and harvested cherries, blueberries, mulberries and one lone peach from our trees. The girl graduated preschool and went to the neighborhood school. The boy celebrated three consecutive birthdays with Spiderman parties. Life was good, especially the Instagram version.
But behind the scenes, for us at least, living in the DC area meant a lot of stress. Work could be intense, and commutes could be unbearably long (or expensive). Schools could be extremely achievement driven -- and the people could be, too. We worked hard, made a lot of money and spent a lot of money in those years. But we weren't always sure what we had to show for it.
I missed being outdoors. I missed being on the water, where Shane and I both spent our college years. I longed for the the kids to have the same type of childhood I had, able to run around barefoot, enjoy adventures that took them farther than the end of our driveway. My doubts about living in Northern Virginia were only multiplied by the stress of the crazy election year that seemed to never end -- and the craziness that continued when it did. It was time to go.
We knew a relocation would depend on Shane's job. While we hoped he could stay with his current employer on a work-from-home basis, that turned out to not be possible. We were back at Square One. And just like he did before, ole Shane came through for us...in a big way.
We met for lunch one day at the California Pizza Kitchen, a lunch I'll probably never forget. (I'm sure I ordered the hummus ;) He let me complain about work and Trump and lord knows what else for nearly an hour before springing some major news on me. "So this happened," he said, calmly, holding up his cellphone. On the screen was an email offer for a job...in Auckland, NZ. "OH. MY. GOD!"
My immediate thought was, "Yes, we have to do this." You don't turn down an opportunity to travel to the other side of the world, to a country that looks like a fairytale, with an amazing job opportunity to boot. Crazy excited about the possibility, no clue about how one actually MOVES to the other side of the world, I screamed "Let's do it!!"
That was March 2017. Over the next 3 months, Shane and I worked day and night to put the pieces in place. We packed and painted the entire house. We sorted out the stuff that absolutely had to come with us to NZ and shipped it off in May, hoping to see it again some day (still waiting...) We got the house on the market and sold within four days. We got the whole family through the medical exams, bloodwork and Visa process. And we did most of this with only a handful of people (namely, our parents) knowing what we were up to.
When we finally felt confident that this adventure was really happening, we started sharing the news -- with the added shock value that we would be leaving in just a few weeks. It was really happening!
On June 23, Shane boarded a plane Auckland-bound via LA. He would arrive in NZ a few weeks early, enough time to buy a car, find a house and start his job. The kids and I finished school, cleared out the house and spent some truly lovely days at my childhood home with my mom and her new husband. It was a special time for all of us. And then, seemingly in a blink, we were on our way to the airport, ready for the flight that would change our lives.
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The customs line moved painfully slow, and patience was running out. As we neared the inspection booth, we could see the wall separating us from the waiting area. I knew Shane would be on the other side of that wall, but he still seemed so far away. Finally, about an hour after we got off the plane and gathered our luggage, the girl and I wheeled our bags to the grumpy officer manning the desk.
"Nothing to claim?"
"Do swimsuits count," I asked sheepishly.
"Nope. Welcome to New Zealand," he said, stamping our paperwork.
We pushed our luggage through the gate and saw Shane jump out of his seat to rush toward us. "Daddy!" the kids yelled, jumping in his arms. They were so happy to see him. I was so happy to see him -- and so happy to finally be here, in New Zealand!
I held back tears and wrapped Shane and the kids in a big family hug. "We made it. We're HERE! I can't believe it," I said.
Let the adventure begin!
