Christmas newsletter

I know I've been quiet for the past 8 months, because things have been a bit crazy, and it was too difficult to write about them. However, all is good in kiwi-land, so here's a recap of the year:

In January, we moved from Kapiti, an hour from Wellington, to Karori, a leafy suburb 10 minutes from central Wellington. Part of the reason for the move was that the girls' dad was sending them to a private school an hour away, and the commute was taking its toll. From the new house it was a 10-minute walk. They loved it, which is probably why their dad, six weeks after enrolling them, announced he could "no longer afford" it, and we had to move them to the local public school. Fortunately the other reason we moved was because my partner anticipated this, and wanted to be in zone for good public schools.

In February we moved into the new house, and it promptly fell apart. Seriously, the garage door fell off, the plumbing backed up three times, the electrics needed to be replaced, the stove stopped working; the attic fan started making a racket; we had builders coming and going constantly. The owner had told us he was going to do "some painting" but we were a bit shocked to find the entire house wrapped in scaffolding for 6 weeks! (They were painting the roof, which apparently is a thing in New Zealand.) The cat loved it, as she somehow figured out a way to get in and out through the second floor window.

Also in February, two days after we moved in, our international student moved in as well. I can't tell you how lucky we got--she is pleasant, helpful and studious, with a wry sense of humour. Coming from China, she was not happy to find that not only were we (mostly) vegetarian, gluten-free and we didn't want any pork or shellfish products in the house. That's all of her comfort food gone! Her main complaint was about sandwiches, but she realised early on that the other kids considered her lucky that she could have sandwiches.

In March my partner went to work, and in April she changed jobs. After 15 years of being a homemaker, she was certain nobody would hire her. She had two interviews and when she was offered the first job, at a high school, she accepted straight away. Then she was offered the second job, which was at a university, walking distance from home, and paid more. She took all of 3 seconds to submit her resignation to the high school. (That's not true; she actually agonised over it for days, which is even sillier.) So she went to work leaving me (me!) as Mr. Mom! In my life's trajectory, I certainly never saw that coming. It was certainly a crash course in child minding, and I cringed every time I heard myself saying, "Wait 'til your mother gets home!" Meanwhile, I was starting to get desperate about the job hunt. I'd only had a handful of interviews because nobody would even bother talking to someone who doesn't have a work permit, even though it is very easy (and free!) to sponsor someone in NZ. My tourist visa expired in May and I wasn't sure what to do. Fortunately my partner realised that, while they do require 12 months of co-habitation to consider residency, they would give me a temporary work permit to reach 12 months! I applied in May and received it in June, valid until December. Unfortunately, I quickly found that a 6-month work visa is as useful as a chocolate teapot.

In April, I co-managed the passover dinner at the synagogue for about 50 people, including the US ambassador to New Zealand. It was originally billed as "organising" but then quickly morphed into "catering." Essentially what happened is that person who has managed it for donkey's years said she was going to be out of the country this year, and so all of the people who helped her every year decided to take a holiday, as well! So not only were we scrambling to find people to help, but I was home wrapping 50 fish fillets in tin foil, and the kids were chopping 50 tomatoes to make a salad. It was crazy but also a lot of fun, and we got a lot of compliments afterwards.

At the end of April the girls started at the public school, which was rocky at first because the other kids already had their social cliques. After a week it had started to get better when their dad returned and drove it off the rails. He's always tried to undermine the children's relationship with their mother, but thankfully only the eldest was really affected--the younger two were upset by his nonsense, of course, but they seemed to understand it was his nonsense and they left it at the door. The eldest, unfortunately, always bore the brunt of it and when her dad visited, she was always left emotionally scarred. On this particular visit, he casually forgot he was the one that let them start at one school and then forced them to change. He blamed their mother and told them if they lived with him, they could go back to their old schools. On Mother's Day, ironically enough, he returned the kids in such a state of upset that we had to cancel all of our plans and send them to bed early. That's when the 14-year-old decided to run away.

I say "run away" but her dad reported she was with him a few hours later. In addition, she later told the lawyer how scared she was waiting for the train on her own. However, I knew (because I'd been to the train station twice) that the trains weren't running that evening; it was bus replacement, so my belief is that she contacted her dad and he came and picked her up, then told her to lie about it. It is not the first time he has asked her to lie--after the separation, my partner had changed all the locks, and he told the eldest (who was ten at the time) to steal a key for him. Fortunately she was caught in the act.

Anyway, now that she was at her dad's, he refused to return her. According to the lawyer, "he retained her beyond the terms of the custody agreement." When you separate in NZ (and presumably elsewhere), you need to file a private custody agreement or the court will issue a parenting order. In this case, with the dad out of the country most of the time, the custody agreement was straightforward: "In their mom's care at all times except as agreed by both parents." So we called the police who told us they can't enforce a custody agreement, only a parenting order! So what, pray tell, is the point of requiring a private custody agreement if nobody will enforce it? Unfortunately we've come across a lot of nonsense like that in NZ family law.

So the next two months were completely tied up in the court and with lawyers and even a court-appointed psychologist to determine what was in the child's best interest. In the end, however, they completely ignored what was in the child's best interest and fell back on the excuse that a 14-year-old can "vote with her feet" and therefore she could stay wherever she liked. In their defence, I'm sure they deal with so many abused and neglected children, that a privileged girl was not on their priority list. Even the psychologist, who was quite senior and came highly recommended, didn't even bother to follow up with the school counsellor who described their dad as a sociopath! So it is now December and we're actually no closer to a resolution than we were in May! We do know the eldest, since she's been in her dad's "care," has missed almost 25% of school and, despite being incredibly bright, got no awards this year. (She is usually on the podium at prizegiving.) She has alienated herself from her friends and the synagogue, is not participating in any sports or music, and has pretty much wasted the entire year. At 14 this is not only devastating to her self-esteem, but next year she starts taking the NCEA exams, which determines her university rankings, and this year was meant to prepare her for that. So no matter what the outcome, we know next year will be very difficult for her, and it's likely this has already limited her university options.

In June, a university friend of my partner arrived from the UK, about 15 years after she promised she would visit. After her visit, she said if she had visited 15 years ago, she would never have left. She rented a mini-van that had been converted into a sleeper, complete with sink and stove, and drove the length and breadth of the north island, visiting the Coromandel, learning to dive in Poor Knight's Island (one of the best dive sites in the world), soaking the hot springs and generally having an incredible time whilst I sat at home futilely trying to find a job. One of the kids went to winter camp (yes, in June!) near Auckland so the rest of us all piled into the mini-van and drove the ten hours to Auckland, spent a few days, then flew home. I actually hated Auckland; it reminded me of Los Angeles. Wellington is much nicer.

July and August were quiet, except for the chattering of our teeth. It doesn't get particularly cold in Wellington -- with lows of 5C / 40F -- but the houses are so badly built that the wind just cuts right through them. We were watching every penny* and so the heater was on as little as possible, and we all dressed in three layers. The worst was downstairs--when the owners had extended the property, they neglected to include any heating in the new bedrooms at all! We put in electric radiators but they cost a fortune to run, and the only way they can keep a room warm is if they stay on all the time, which we forbid.

Things got very exciting in October. The middle child was turning 13, and it was her bat mitzvah. She'd been practicing for a year, although at the beginning of the year she was very lackadaisical and we were very concerned the service would be a disaster. But as the date approached she knuckled down and did an incredible job. She even asked me (well, demanded really) to give a speech, and I got a little emotional on the bimah. However, no matter how beautifully she did or how incredibly her mom managed it on a shoestring budget, the one thing that will probably stick with her the rest of her life is that her dad chose not to attend.

Of course we also had to celebrate her birthday, and the youngest child's birthday was two weeks after that. Their grandmother had come from the UK for a month, so we got to know each other quite well. (I'd already met her once in the UK, plus over skype many times.) She is a dear woman and the kids loved having her around. We also did Halloween with our American friends. While it's not as big as America, it's more popular than in the UK, and the kids got quite a few lollies, plus a tin of jam and tuna. (Seriously, someone had run out of candy and started emptying their pantry!) Our international student carved her first pumpkin and we watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas," which is an annual tradition with me.

In November the cat celebrated one year since the vet said she would die within six weeks. She is still in renal failure and sleeps most of the day, but then she's a cat so it's hard to tell. I turned 46 and in fact have two friends with birthdays on the same week, so we went together to see James Bond film. (We called it a boys' night out, even though we went at 11am.)

In December, the synagogue was organising a weekend camping trip which was abruptly cancelled the week before due to a lack of registrations. I knew one of the organisers was gutted because she'd put so much time and effort into it, so I suggested we have a "mini-camp" at the synagogue, including a sleepover. You would have thought I would have learned my lesson in April not to raise my hand, but next thing I knew I was in charge! We had about 50 people for lunch, 25 people for dinner, and 10 kids for the sleepover. It was a great success and as no good deed goes unpunished, I've been asked to organise next year's Purim celebration! (I'm suggesting a cross-dressing musical version. If that doesn't get me out of it, nothing will.)

As the school year wound up, and our international student prepared to go back to China on December 10, she asked us to put up a Christmas tree! The kids have always had a tree, so this wasn't an issue, it was just putting one up right in the middle of Hannukah! Fortunately our student has decided to continue her studies next year, so she'll be back in two months. She's such a pleasure to have, we're very fortunate.

And last but not least, remember that my work permit expired in December? I applied for residency in September, 12 months after I arrived, and in November I was told by immigration that I would be denied because I did not have any proof of living with my partner in Kapiti! I had submitted references from a dozen people, but that was not considered 'official evidence.' I panicked, but I contacted an immigration consultant who reassured me it would be fine. I also went through an old pile of paperwork and miraculously found a holiday card a friend in the States had mailed to me in Kapiti last November! I'd kept the envelope because it had her address and I planned to write a thank-you letter, but the envelope disappeared into a drawer and I forgot all about it. Because the cancellation had a date stamp, it was considered 'official evidence' and I was approved three days before I had to leave the country! Hurrah! So I am now a NZ resident, which means I no longer have to worry about work permits. Too bad Wellington completely shuts down for December and January.

* NZ has actually gotten rid of the penny, and the nickel as well, so when you buy in cash the amount if rounded to the nearest ten cents.

The last 10 years

I've written before about how I lived in the same house for 10 years, then between 2006 and 2008 I moved 7 times!  I just filled out an online form listing all of my addresses for the past 10 years and the total is now 12:

1. 2006 - Lomita
2. 2006 - Pennsylvania
3. 2006 - Lomita
4. 2007 - Dixon
5. 2007 - Downtown LA
6. 2008 - Earls Court
7. 2008 - Brentford
8. 2009 - Ealing
9. 2010 - East Finchley
10. 2011 - Barnet
11. 2011 - Reading
12. 2014 - Paraparaumu
13. 2015 - Karori

(This doesn't include the times I've been technically homeless, which is actually quite considerable.)

The thought of moving again fills me with dread, but of course I'm in a rental house so it is inevitable...

Teenagers

It's hard to understand how the human race has survived. I mean, it's hard to imagine Primitive Caveman--who hasn't read any books on listening to teenagers, being supportive, and unconditional loving--not ending his bloodline the first time his 12-year-old mouthed off at him.

Children spend the first two years being completely dependant on you, and the next 20 years expecting you to wait on them. Whilst you're busy trying to ensure they get a good education and have lots of opportunities, they're busy screaming because the shirt they put in the laundry basket 20 minutes ago still isn't clean.

The only consolation is that everyone else has to deal with the same nonsense at some point, even the smug person with plenty of advice will at some point be curled up in the fetal position, crying in frustration and exhaustion.

The only advice I can offer is to remember it's temporary, that children change moods more often than underwear, and that your job is to keep them safe, not make them happy. To paraphrase Nigel Latta, the hardest thing is to make sure their problems remain their problems. You're too busy working, cooking, cleaning and occasionally sleeping to try and fix all of their issues, especially as they've created most of them themselves. And besides, even if you could fix them, your children wouldn't learn very much from them.

So yes, it's very hard when your baby is sitting outside your bedroom door at 10 at night screaming and crying because she's been playing games on her phone for two hours and suddenly realised she needs something in the morning and wants to make it your problem, but remember that if you fix it, you're just ensuring she'll be back next week with the same issue. Make sure her problem stays her problem, and she'll still be back next week but you'll have gotten a little more sleep.

P.S. This was actually supposed to be a rant about me having to go to the supermarket at 10pm last night because one of the kids took the last roll of toilet paper and not only failed to tell anyone, but actually put the empty plastic bag back in the cupboard, so we thought there was more. I'm not sure how I got on this other issue.

NCEA

Just as I figured out the English education system, I now have to figure out the New Zealand system, which is completely different than both the US and UK, but just as complex and ridiculous. NCEA stands for National Certificate of Educational Achievement, and it works something like this:

In year 11 (about 15 years old), every child in New Zealand is given NCEA level 1 exams in their chosen subjects, which are graded by a small army of teachers and ranked as "achieved," "merit," "excellence" or "not achieved" (i.e. failed). The results of these exams are then promptly thrown out and never seen again.

In year 12 (16 years old), every child in New Zealand is given NCEA level 2 exams in their chosen subjects, which are similarly graded, ranked and thrown out, never to be seen again.

In year 13 (17 years old), every child in New Zealand is given NCEA level 3 exams in their chosen subjects, which are similarly graded, ranked and then put through a meat grinder to generate a ranking number which determines university admissions.

The meat grinder goes something like this:

1. Each subject contains a number of components, which are worth different credits. For example, an essay may be worth 5 points or an exam may be worth 10 points. You can only count a maximum of 24 points per subject.
2. You can take as many subjects as you wish, but you can only count credits from five subjects.
3. You can only count your "Top 80" credits.  That is, if you got 20 "excellence" credits, 20 "merit" credits and 60 "achieved" credits, then you would count the 20 excellence, 20 merit, and 40 achieved, for a total of 80.
4. You then multiply the number of "excellence" credits by 4, "merit" credits by 3, "achieved" credits by 2, and add them all up.  Using the previous example, that would be 80 excellence, 60 merit and 80 achieved, or 220 points.
5. Universities have their own requirements for each programme, so a Bachelor of Arts degree may require 150 points while a Bachelor of Engineering requires 250 points with 17 credits in Calculus and 16 credits in Physics. 

Of course, even though only the level 3 results count, you can't take the level 3 exams if you haven't passed the level 2 exams, and you can't take those if you haven't passed the level 1 exams, and you have to decide your subjects in year 10 so you can sign up for the right classes in year 11, which means you have to figure out what you want to do in college when you're 14 years old!!

Absolutely insane.

Pet cemetery

The cat is going to die.

That's not a threat; the cat is fantastic, a siamese mix with a wonderful temperament whose only vice is that she can't resist a lap. No, she's going to die because she's old and her kidneys are shutting down. The vet gave her 3 months to live, and that was 9 months ago.

So every day is a gift, although of course we all take her for granted (and complain when she sheds on us). But what bothers me most isn't that she's going to die, it's that I have no idea what to do when she goes.

I've never had to bury a pet, other than fish. I've known people who cremated their pets, but I find that a little bizarre. We're in a rental house, so it seems slightly awkward to leave the cat in someone else's backyard. How deep to dig? I'm not even sure I have a shovel. Or a box. What about a plaque?

You'd think, knowing the cat is going to die, I'd be prepared for it, but in the end I'm sure I'll ignore the problem and improvise at the time.

The cat probably deserves better.

Karori

Karori is Maori for "rollercoaster."* It's in a valley in the hills above Wellington, about 160 meters (500 feet) above sea level.  To look at a topographic map, it appears quite smooth and orderly, with the main road running along the basin of the valley:

However, that purple covers a difference of 70 meters (230 feet)! Birdwood Steet, for example, is only 600 meters long but rises by 50 meters!  Karori Road varies from 139 meters to 178 meters, and it's not a simple grade but a series of hills and valleys.  The drive to Wright's Hill (the green blob at the bottom) is 3.5km but climbs another 150 meters!  In other words, Karori is a cycling nightmare.

I bought a used bike off the Internet, sight-unseen.  It was the wrong size, rusty and the gears didn't work--but it was cheap!  I took it to the local bike shop which only charged me $40 NZD for a standard service, and the gears worked perfectly--for a day. The next day they were frozen in place again.  However, I didn't bother complaining because I realised that I would never change gears in Karori -- I was either climbing straight uphill in first gear, or screaming downhill at terrifying speeds.  There was no point shifting gears so I could go faster!

That said, it could be worse. According to this article, when Karori was settled in 1840, the only access was a Maori footpath! By 1843 they had built a road along Curtis Pass, about 260 meters above sea level. It was so steep that passengers had to walk up one section as the horses couldn't pull them! In 1897 the residents voted to pay £4000 to build a new road. It was supposed to take 6 months but took 3 years and cost £8000.  It was still good value, as today it is still the main road into Karori.  (For a suburb of 15,000 people, there are only 3 roads that access it!)

My point isn't to complain about the hills or the roads or even my bicycle, but to compare Wellington to San Francisco.  You see, SF is the only place I ever wanted to live in the US, and I appear to have done just that. In addition to the hills, the bay, and the weather--if  Mark Twain's "the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco" were true (it isn't) he would have felt right at home in Karori--even the ethnic diversity is similar, with Wellington about 76% white and 16% Asian, while San Francisco is 49% white and 33% Asian.

Of course, there are some differences: Somes Island has a wildlife sanctuary rather than a maximum security prison; in the Mercer 2014 International Quality of Living Survey, Wellington was ranked as the 12th best city in the world while San Francisco was #27; Numbeo.com calculates it costs 30% less in Wellington to maintain the same standard of living as San Francisco; and where San Francisco has 837,000 residents crammed into 47 square miles (that's 17,179 people per square mile!), Wellington city (including Karori) only has 200,000 people over 112 square miles (roughly 10% of SF's population density!)

So perhaps I found an even better version of Baghdad by the Bay.

* Of course I'm making that up.  Maori for "roller coaster" is takai rōnaki.

March

You'd think, being unemployed and all, I would have plenty of time to post more than one update a month.  You'd also think that, being unemployed and all, I wouldn't have anything to update on.  Unfortunately, neither is the case.

I'll start with the absurd situation of my partner's new job -- or should I say, jobs.  In my last post I mentioned she was starting her new job on February 9.  What I didn't mention is that she had interviewed with Victoria University as well, and on February 10 they offered her the job.  The job itself wasn't ideal but it was walking distance from home, twice the money and a step in the door, because ultimately she wants to be working with university students.  In other words, it was a no-brainer that she struggled with for a week before tendering her resignation at the first job.

(To their credit, they were very supportive and agreed it was a no-brainer, although they still made her serve three-weeks' notice.)

So this week she started at the University and has been cycling to work.  It is right next to the youngest child's school, so he comes over after school and they cycle home together.  It couldn't be sweeter.

So that's the good news.  The bad news is the kids' father, who I've tried to avoid mentioning, has just gone off the rails.  I'm not sure he was ever particularly stable, but this was beyond the pale.  He had insisted the girls attend a private school when they reached year 7, even though the closest private school was an hour away.  As he was out of the country most of the time, and their mom had to look after the younger siblings, the eldest would get up at 6:30am to catch the train at 7:30 to catch the bus at 8:30 to be at school at 9.  After school, she didn't get home until after 4pm.  It was a horrific experience that really took its toll on her health, her energy and her attitude.

In addition, the school was the poor cousin of an esteemed private school in town.  It didn't have the same quality of teachers, the same breadth of programmes, the same standards for students.  It mainly traded on the reputation of its parent and wasn't terribly better than the local public school.  So one of the main drivers for moving into town was that they could attend the parent school, but we needed their dad's permission as he was the one paying for it.

At first he tried to use this as weapon to try and extract some concessions from his ex, as the family house (that we were moving out of) was still in both of their names.  However, we'd already anticipated that and had positioned ourselves within the catchment area of an excellent all-girls public school.  It was by no means as good as the private school, but it was perfectly acceptable and we let him know that if he didn't want to pay for the private school we were happy to enrol her in the public school; we just needed him to make a decision.  He waited until two days before the start of the school year, and when the private school finally called him he said they could attend.

Fast forward all of six weeks, and when the school sent him an invoice for the term he sent back an email stating he never agreed for the girls to attend, that their mother had moved them illegally (!) and that all future bills should be sent to her.  About the same time--and before we heard about this--he sent an ominous text to the eldest girl saying:

I'm so sorry but your mom has pushed me to the limit and I am now forced to do things to hurt you and your siblings.  Please understand it's all her fault.

As you can imagine, if we had seen that at the time we would have never let the kids see their dad again!  However, as we found out about that only after we learned about the school, we realised he just meant he was going to stop paying for everything.  He also notified their guitar teacher that he was going to stop their lessons, and has refused invoices for the kids' sports activities.  In other words, in his mind the kids are no longer his responsibility, and their mom should pay for all of this.

And what was the trigger that "pushed him to the limit"?  According to him, it was either because we moved the kids 35 miles away (even though he spends most of his time in Nigeria) or because we "abandoned" the family home and he now had to pay the mortgage on an empty house (even though the bank told him he could have a 3-month 'mortgage holiday').  However, the real reason was that we filed for child support in November.  He hadn't paid anything in over a year, claiming the school fees were enough.  Of course the law doesn't see it that way, and we turned him over.  It probably took two months before the State sent him a demand letter, but once he realised there was no way to avoid it, he decided the best course of action was to punish his kids by denying them all the opportunities he had promised them, and then blaming their mother.  What a guy.

(I should note that New Zealand has a regressive system that "caps" the amount of child support regardless of how much the parent makes, and they have no provision for spousal support at all.  As their dad is in the oil industry and--thanks to his ex--is able to work in Nigeria, he makes a ridiculous amount of money, and the maximum he would pay in child support is less than 10% of his salary.  The school fees would be another 10%.  He does not have to give anything to his ex, even though she gave up her career to raise the kids.  Of course, we all know this has nothing to do with the amount he is paying, only about control.)

So we're in the process of getting the girls enrolled in public schools for term 2, which starts next month.  The eldest will move to the girls' college (don't ask me why they call high schools/secondary schools "colleges" here!) but it will be even harder for the middle child because she has to go back to a primary school this year, then move to the girls' college next year.  It breaks our heart because they've both made friends at the private school, gotten involved in lots of after-school activities and really enjoyed it.  I have no doubt they will do the same at their new schools, but it will take time, especially as they're starting mid-year when kids have already established their friendship circles.  We're also concerned the eldest won't get her choice of subjects, as popular ones like art and music may already be full.  And she'll have to start taking a bus again, although the school is only 20 minutes away.

To add insult to injury, we have taken the high road and not said anything negative about their father to the kids.  We just said, "I'm sorry but if he has decided not to pay the fees, we can't afford it."  Unfortunately he has no such compunction, and he actually met with a school official -- along with the eldest child -- and the official told us later she had to stop the meeting because he would not stop saying negative things about his ex in front of the child.

In the end, we know the kids will look back on this and realise what an ass their father was.  In the meantime, though, he gets to punish the kids and blame us, and we just have to smile and deal with the fallout.  He honestly thinks he's winning, and just doesn't care about the effect it has on the kids.   I know it's nothing unique and is playing out a million times all over the world, but that doesn't make it any less sad or frustrating.  Thankfully, the kids at least have us to look after them; not all kids are so lucky.

New arrival

It's been a crazy week--on Sunday the eldest went to school camp, on Monday the middle child started at her new school, on Tuesday we moved, on Wednesday the youngest started at his new school, on Thursday the eldest saw the house for the first time, and on Friday another child moved in.

We had been planning on taking in an international student--it was the only way we could afford such a nice house--but we'd been so stressed over the move, we hadn't done a thing about it. We were quite concerned that we'd missed the boat--with school starting that week, students would have already been assigned to a homestay. Then on Tuesday, in the midst of moving, the girls' school sent out a blanket email to every parent saying they had a problem with one of the homestays and urgently needed to relocate a 16 year old Chinese student! We called straight away, they interviewed us on Thursday and Stephanie (not her real name) moved in Friday morning.  You could not have planned it better.

Of course, after the death march leading up to the move date, we promised we would take it easy and slowly unpack the house.  That plan went straight out the window, as we needed the house sorted for the interview! Of course, having that incentive was great, and we had almost everything unpacked apart from the (many) boxes of books and wall art.  The house really came together beautifully and everyone felt at home right away, which was better than we could have hoped for.  The living room is warm and sunny (half the ceiling is glass!) and we have the sofas and dining table there, plus it's open to the kitchen, so we're always in that room.  The study has the piano and fireplace but is currently hosting all the unpacked boxes so hasn't been used much.  The girls bedrooms are downstairs, along with a small rumpus area, and the youngest--who is still a bit unsure about monsters--loves that his room doesn't have a closet.

Stephanie's English isn't great but she's very sweet and gets along brilliantly with the kids. It's a 10 minute walk to school for all the kids, and they've all made several friends plus have been playing with two boys from Hebrew school who live just around the corner. (We're going to their house tonight for "movie night.")  We got a family pass for Zealandia, a bird sanctuary, that is literally a bike ride away.. 

Now that we've got the move, the new schools and the new student sorted, the only thing left is to tell the kids about their mom's new job.  Today is Saturday; she starts Monday!

The remains of the day

The movers were supposed to arrive at 730, but they didn't show up until 915. Thank goodness! We were up at 6am, scrambling around trying to finish packing. The rumpus room, cleaned two days ago for the photographer, was again a rat's nest. The office wasn't finished, the pantry was untouched, and while I had boxed the "non-essential" kitchen items, there was still a heck of a lot of "essential" items.

Fortunately we only had one child underfoot--one was at school camp and the other spent the previous night with a friend who lived near the school, so we didn't have to drive an hour and a half to take her to school that morning. (We'd already done it twice.) The third child has a "sensitive disposition" which is PC for "worry wart." He worries about everything, and so trying to deal with moving to a new house (that he hadn't even seen!) in a new neighborhood and a new school was a bit much, and he spent a good deal of the morning hiding in his closet.

Taking advantage of the movers' delay--and no longer worrying about whether or not something should be packed or discarded--we made good progress, and things were starting to look up when the movers arrived. (I say 'arrived' but they actually got lost, and I had to go find them and lead them back.) We gave them a quick tour and the boss said we'd need a second truck.

This was after we'd just spent two months thinning it down!! But of course he was right; we actually filled both trucks and had quite a few things left over (including the kayaks, the entertainment centre and a desk). Imagine if we hadn't gotten rid of so much stuff. :-(

The movers were great, even though the second truck--and two extra men--meant we spent almost twice as much as we had hoped. However, it needed to be done, and nobody else would have been cheaper, so we were happy to have had it finished in one day. And what a day--after getting only 4 hours sleep the night before, we finished unpacking the trucks at 530pm, then I had to set up three beds! We had Domino's pizza for dinner (they are only 2 minutes away!) and got to bed around midnight.

I had also been responsible for moving the cat. I put her in the cat carrier, but she was meaning so much that I let her out, hoping she would lie down in her bed. Instead she climbed in my lap, while I was driving, and refused to budge! Thank goodness we didn't have an accident, but being with the cat set off an asthma attack, rendering me almost useless.

So now we're just going through the mundane task of unpacking and putting our lives back together. Both kids are happy with the house--the third one gets back from camp tomorrow--which is the most important thing.

Shattered

Tuesday is moving day. This has been a death march for nearly two months, since we first decided to move into town. Of course, we could have just packed everything (or hired someone to pack everything) and avoided all the stress and conflict, but that's not my way. So instead we jumped in--first in waders, then in scuba gear--through 15 years of history, squirreled away in small baskets, hidden in the attic or the back of the closet. Of course, as a guy, my preferred method of organising is to take everything out, sort it in little piles and then pack it. As you can imagine, this makes a hell of a mess, but it is effective.

We sold a lot of stuff on the local equivalent of eBay, which was further complicated because much of it belonged to the children, who didn't understand why they couldn't keep a shirt that was three sizes too small, or a toy they hadn't played with in 6 years. This meant a lot of subterfuge to keep things out of sight (and therefore out of mind) although occasionally we were caught out. One time we sold a small fridge and we had the kids when we went to deliver it. They demanded we keep it so they could put it in their dad's garage when he turned into a band room. (I should note, their dad has been making promises like that for 14 years and has never kept one, but God bless them for being so optimistic.)

Anyway, fast forward two months and we've sold a lot, thrown a lot away, filled a double garage with boxes (not including any furniture) and the house was still littered with piles of stuff! That wouldn't have been a problem--the plan was to move out before putting the house on the market--except that while we were looking for a place, we realised that photos of empty houses looked awful! So last week we met a realtor who absolutely agreed we should take photos before we removed the furniture, and scheduled a photographer for today.

My girlfriend's job was to clean the entire house, whereas my job was to sort out a single room. She finished in four hours; it took me five. To be fair, that was the room that had become the primary staging area, and you could not walk through it for all the stuff.

Of course, this was not packing, this was just clearing up for the photos, and while I was shovelling things in the garage, my girlfriend was throwing things back in the closets, cupboards and drawers that I'd already emptied! At the end of the day, I felt like we'd taken a giant step backwards.

Then after dinner we took another step backwards, as one of the kids is going to school camp tomorrow and not only had she not prepared, but she put out much of what she needed to be packed! As a result, we had to go through the garage and open several boxes to find everything.

Of course some of the boxes had to be shifted, and a couple ended up outside the garage. I should have put them back straight away, but I had a hundred other things to do and so I left them out for about an hour. Needless to say, after the driest January on record, with no rain at all in the last three weeks, it chose that hour to rain and the boxes were ruined. (Thankfully it was all camping gear and so was not affected by the rain. Can you imagine if it had been a box of family photos?!)

So Sunday and half of Monday are exclusively devoted to finishing packing, and Monday afternoon we'll get the keys to the house and move a carload of breakable items. Tuesday the movers arrive at 730am, and I hope they bring a very big truck! It's going to be full-on until we unpack and settle in on Wednesday, and then I can start job hunting again because I need something less stressful in my life. :-)

December

I honestly have no idea where December went.  I know I was there, but it seems to have slipped me by completely.

It has been ridiculously busy here.  It began rather promising with a job interview, and I was convinced they were going to offer me the job until -- they didn't.  They declined to give a reason.  Then all of New Zealand shut down for Christmas.

Which honestly was just as well, because we decided to move.  Without getting into specifics, we decided that rather than trying to sell this house and buy another one in town, we'd rent for a year.  Of course, that was before we realised how expensive it would be to rent a four bedroom house in town...

Whenever the kids were with their dad, we went into the city and looked at homes.  Quite a few were just depressing.  We did see one we liked -- it had just been completely refurbished -- but the "fourth bedroom" wasn't large enough to hold a bed.  We spent a week trying to figure out how to make it work, but finally had to abandon it.  Then we saw a large five bedroom house in an ideal location that was completely out of our price range, but many people in New Zealand "host" international students (i.e. rent a room for the term) which would have made the house affordable.  We immediately submitted an application, and five days later were told...someone else had pipped us to the post.

Christmas was also in December, but if I had trouble getting into the "winter spirit" in Los Angeles, you can imagine what it's like south of the equator, when you spend the day at the beach and the sun sets at 9pm.  In addition, most of the people I know here are Jewish, so it wasn't a big deal.  On Christmas eve we were supposed to have Chinese food with members of the synagogue, but I wrote down the wrong time and so we completely missed it.  The kids were with their dad on Christmas so we got together with family on Boxing Day...and had a picnic outside.  (We also took advantage of the after-Christmas sales to buy new furnishings for the house we don't have.)

We also emptied the garage and loft, which has been tricky because kids are natural hoarders, and if they saw anything -- particularly something they haven't played with for years -- they still want to keep it.  I sold a dozen DVDs and when I went to ship them, there were only 10 -- the fourteen-year-old had made off with the Barbie and Bratz videos!  While the kids were in school this wasn't an issue but when they were home on holidays, we were like drug dealers -- cars would pull up in the driveway, there would be a furtive exchange of cash and goods, and they would pull away.  For larger items, one of us would distract the kids whilst the other completed the sale.  However, we managed to get rid of seven bicycles, a rabbit hutch, a swing set, a piano, a TV and a refrigerator without them noticing.

But there is no rest for the weary, I'm afraid.  House hunting is starting over, again, and I should mention we need to move by the end of January so the kids can enrol in their new schools!  I will have to remind all the agencies that I'm still looking for work, and hopefully will have a few more interviews.  And of course as soon as we move, we need to get the old house ready for sale, so it will be mid-February before we get a break...and by then I hope to be working!

I wish everyone a belated Christmas and New year, and a happy 2015.