Life is a strange being. Most days you tootle along in your own little merry world, not really concerned about what life is planning for you behind the scenes. You do your daily chores, you run your errands and in a brain-numbing way, you become content and relaxed. Then...
Just as you have settled on the 'Sofa of Monotonous Days' with your cup of tea and box of biscuits, life decides it's going to wake you up by ceremoniously kicking in you in your tender areas.
You are thrown into a whirlwind of events that only pauses occasionally, just to let you catch your breath, before it comes in for the next bell to land a left hook that floors you.
(Yes, I have had wine - not that you needed to ask).
I am currently in 'Round 35' and I am wondering which one of us is going to get the K.O first -life or me- because life has been in training.
As you can tell by the lack of posts in the right-hand side-bar, I have been holding my own against the onslaught, much to the detriment of my ad-hoc writing. It all started here, in Round One when life decided to blind-side us with our Canadian Permanent Residency rejection. It continued with school issues, school vacation, heavy workload and no time to do it.
After the rejection, our family picked ourselves up and -in our usual way- set to task on how to either: persuade the Canadian government to accept us, win the lotto, get an internal transfer to the UK (via my super-smart Hubby), save enough money to move ourselves, with the hope of a job at the end, or find some other miracle.
As we had never intended to get kicked out of the country -our PR seemed in the bag as we had successfully followed every bureaucratic hoop asked of us- we discovered that our savings would be wiped out in the need to cover the tens-of-thousands of dollars to move ourselves back. The other options were also pretty non-existant. Our hope was someone liked my hubbies work enough to help off-set some of the cost on moving ourselves back, and provide a job at the end of it.
We had talked to my husbands company about it, but after six months of muted rumblings and talks, nothing was really coming out of it. We had talked to other companies too, but due to a big studio closure in the UK, there were more games programmers in the UK looking for work than teens at a Justin Beiber concert. Most of the programmers were already in the UK and didn't need big relocation budgets. We decided to hang tight, wait 6-8 month for the industry to settle, save as much as we could and try and get a UK job before our visa ran out in November 2013.
We sat back, enjoyed the glorious summer, made plans to get D into grade 2 without trauma and frankly use the next six months to catch our breath back and chill.
That was our fatal mistake. Never believe for one minute life will let you catch your breath.
Earlier this week we began to get indications that hubbies company may pay for a relocation back to the UK. Fantastic! However, it all rested on the amount of relocation. We had only just started saving and if we had no residual finances to cover the deficit on the relocation, then the chance to move back within the company would be moot.
The next day, hubbie had some calls with the internal recruiters and the informal inferences on the relocation package/job looked promising. Could it be possible that we could move at the end of the year? Perhaps have Christmas in the UK? D's first Christmas with family?
The paperwork came through and it wasn't until we read through it, that we realised the job offer and relocation was astounding. Hubbies company had stood by him when others wouldn't and were offering him opportunities to stay with them. We could move and stay with a company that has -given the family crap we have landed on their doorstep- treated us well. We could move back to the UK, keep our savings and hubby would still have a job. YEA!!!
Yet, there was more. Not only had they offered hubby a job, but they had offered him TWO jobs. Jobs with different emphasis, in different parts of the country and they were letting us take our pick.
There had to be a catch. Somewhere...
Well, yes there is - although it isn't something that will derail the plans; the only affect it has is moving our timescales forward. We wouldn't be moving to the UK for Christmas; in fact we won't even be seeing Halloween in Canada. They would like hubby to start at the beginning of November. We have four, or so, weeks to move - not just down the road, but countries!
Given that this wasn't even on our RADAR, (okay, we had mentioned it as, "wouldn't it be nice if...") this is a HUGE change of thinking. A sudden life-changing event that has hit us straight, square between the eyes. One we are still getting our head around.
There are some other catches. I have to give up my blogging on Canadian Running Magazine. The magazine is very Canadian-centric and prefers authors to be resident in Canada. I fully understood that when I took the role and I am honoured that they have let me write for them in the last 9-10 months. They will always have a place in my affections for taking a chance on me and letting me see what I could do.
I will have to find a way of keeping D from internally melting. Big changes can affect anyone with Autism. Forgetting the size of this change, the quick timetable is going to be hard. I have spoken to his school and effectively we are just going to concentrate on keeping D calm and happy. Work, demands and pretty much anything else can go hang for the next four weeks. I have to work out how to get D settled on the other side of the Atlantic. New country, new city, new stores, new food, new house, new furniture, new school, new teachers, new friends - heck, new time-zone. We fully accept that D will be a potential nuclear basket-case for at least 6-12 months. I am coming to realise my job in the UK will be his aide and support - in and out of school. That's fine, I am good at that.
I am sure there will be other hurdles, successes and failures. There will be a multitude of conflicting emotions; excitement, relief, hope, love, joy, heart-breaking despair, grief, loss, loneliness. I will yearn for the west-coast mountains that are part of my soul and the kid-like joy I get when i see the first snows on the peaks. I will miss the gnarly trails that I run and the wilderness that surrounds me every-time I step on the trail. I will miss the coffee with my friends and the comfort of knowing what I am doing. I will be so glad to see my family again and catch up with long-lost friends. I will be excited to see the history and connection to my past everywhere I go. I will comforted by the familiarity of the old, whilst seeing it all afresh.
Frankly I will be a complete mental mess for the next 2-3 months. It's good. I can do this. We'll be fine *insane giggle*
If you see a middle-aged woman running around, giggling insanely, with wine in one hand, coffee in the other and a look of complete disorientation then please deposit her to the Kift household. They are probably missing a mummy somewhere.