And just like that, we are coming back…

We moved at the beginning of last year, wanting to see how this went, wanting to see how we would go. Away from our families, away from our comfort zones, our little family on our next big adventure. We started our adventure excited, and, until this day, we have truly made the most of living by the beach.
Our kids are well and truly beach kids, Leo would happily spend his days kicking the footy and laying in the sand, Maisie in the amongst the waves, and little Posy watching it all from the comfort of her tent. We have tried our hardest to keep busy, to go and find new places, to give our children the best opportunities, to find shells, explore rockpools, eat fish and chips and ice-cream all along the South Coast. We have had the most amazing time, we feel lucky to live in such a beautiful part of the country and I know that the memory of our time here will be treasured forever.

Knowing all this and knowing how much our children love it here may make what I am about to write seem a bit odd but, as much as we love it here, it is now time to go home.

If living here has taught me anything it is that we are the type of people, I am the type of person, that needs my people around me. Home sick is something I thought I could never be as a grown woman, but I think that’s what it was.
We have kept busy, yes, because we love the ocean and it will forever be the place that brings me the most peace, but we kept busy to distract from the fact that we had no one to go visit. No one who would be popping around, no one to mind the kids while Duncan and I needed a much needed catch up, no Grandparents or Aunts and Uncles for our kids to be offloaded to. We had a new baby, children that missed the people that they used to see so often, we had created this amazing lifestyle but we felt alone.
We missed what we had taken for granted in the past. I noticed how happy I was when my sisters would come and how sad I was when they would leave, I spent my time looking forward to the next visit or when we would be going home next.
We were living in arguably one of the most beautiful places that you could be and the only place I wanted to be was where I used to be, closer to our families. So we are doing what will give us the greatest happiness, and that is, getting out of here.

In saying that, I will miss it. I will miss the beach, the sense of freedom it brings. I will miss the sound of the waves, I will miss the water.
I will never and would never regret the decision we made to move here, I will always look back on this time with happy memories, this is where we brought our third little baby home, this is where our big kids learned to love the sea, this is where Leo started preschool. Our time here, although parts of it sad and lonely, was mostly wonderful. It was a chance that not many people get to have, a grown-up gap year, before we enter the world of big school, regimen, routine. Where we would have dinner early just so we could spend evenings at the beach or weekends driving to different towns just so we can build a sandcastle on a different stretch of sand. I will forever be grateful that we took the initial leap and moved, our life for the last year has basically been a holiday and our children have the most fortunate lifestyle because of it. But if being away has taught us anything it is that for us, family, being close to those we love, will always trump lifestyle.

So, let the packing begin! The thought of another interstate move with now three little ones is making me want to run for the hills, but I know this time this is it. This will be our last move, (at least last change of town move), we are moving home to grow up, to start saving towards our forever home, to be closer to our support, and, most importantly, to give our children the utmost wonderful opportunity to grow up surrounded the ones that are most important, our families.

Look out Shepparton, the Moodie’s are coming!



How to move house with children.

In one word. Don’t.
The house you live in now should be the house you stay in forever.
I say this in jest of course, but seriously our recent moving experience has been nothing short of a nightmare.

We have only ever move short distances, either across the road or to a town an hour and a half away, so of course moving somewhere that is eight hours from where you currently live is always going to take a little bit more organization but never did I imagine it would be like this.

So let me tell you a story.
The story of how we moved house.


Some details I will skip, the booking of the truck, the constant hunt for boxes, the sorting, the chucking, the endless rolls of tape we went through, blah blah blah.

I will start with how I was organised, how I had booked a truck, organised our children to go to the in-laws for two days, how we had it all packed and ready to go.
The truck was delayed. No worries, its coming first thing tomorrow.
First thing tomorrow turned in to mid to late afternoon, which when at 5pm when there was still no truck I was beginning to get nervous. So I contacted the truck, still three hours away, they will be here tonight. Great…how to keep two tired children up until 8.30 with no major meltdowns, no toys, no kitchen, nothing.
Anyway we managed, we waited for the truck until 9.45. 9.45 PM with a three year old who hadn’t had a nap and a one year old who usually goes to bed at 7.00. Not good.
It was at about 9.48pm that the guy with the truck told us that he didn’t think he would have enough room. Ummm what?! How is this even possible? Anyway too tired to fuss, just take what you can and we will meet you at the new place tomorrow. Off we go to Melbourne.
Starting at about 12.30am, the time we finally arrived in Melbourne, time to transfer the children without fuss, easy for some, not for us. Maisie decided to wake from 1-4am so Duncan drew the short straw and I got to sleep.
By 8am Duncan and I have said goodbye to our little’s and are on the road, we should be at the new place by about 4.00, giving us heaps of time before the truck is due to arrive between 6 and 8pm.
About 3.30 we get a phone call saying they haven’t left yet, they will be delayed, but good news all they couldn’t fit was the big dining table and the old BBQ. Great, bit delayed but at least they have our stuff right? Hmmm Wrong.
We go out for dinner, we come home watch a full movie, pack up and wait (we were told ETA of 10.30 so we better be ready), I fall asleep on the floor.
12.45AM truck arrives. Time to help unpack.
Head to bed around 3.30am grateful that we didn’t have the children with us for obvious reasons.
After a “parents sleep in” of 8.30am (curse you body clock), we get up and start the big job of starting to unpack and set up what we can in one day. With each box and the garage clearing out we are listing off things that have been left behind.
Where is our small dining table?
Where are the chairs?
Where is our lawnmower?
Where is your bike?
Where is the lamp from Leo’s room?
…The list goes on.
So they left more than just the BBQ and big dining table. Great.
Head home because we miss the children and are over all the unpacking.
In between strategizing how we will get the rest of our stuff up there, re-listening to Season One of Serial and the anticipation of seeing our children, the trip goes surprisingly fast.

So that was the mess that was Part One.
We are currently in the middle of Part Two.
The initial plan was head back to Bendigo, clean the house a bit, pack up the rest and head to my parents for a few days before Christmas.
Now, instead, Duncan needed to do an extra trip up to the new place with the trailer full of our left overs, after dropping myself and the children at my Mum and Dad’s, he would then go up to the new place, then back to Bendigo, get what we need for Christmas and meet us here.
Such. A. Pain.

So here I sit at Mum and Dad’s waiting to hear from him, telling me the house is cleared out and presentable, telling me he is on his way and that we can finally get into some Christmas cheer. It is stinking hot, he will be exhausted and in dire need for a beer, which I will have ready.

Our experience with moving interstate has been chaotic and messy to say the least. I should change the title of this post to ‘How to not to move interstate’ as moving with children has nothing to do with this. The children were beautiful, they have coped so well with the mess and the boxes and the change in their surroundings (probably something to do with all the cafe stops and babychinos but I’ll overlook that point).

One day this will all be a story we can look back on and laugh about, but for now it is just a hectic end to a busy year.
Thankfully I am not superstitious or I may have taken the whole moving saga as a sign, but instead I am telling myself that the only way from here is up and looking forward to creating many happy and wonderful memories in the new house.

And in an act of perfect timing, Duncan has just messaged to say he is on his way and Christmas time can begin, so from my family to yours, I hope you have a wonderful weekend to come and Merry Christmas xx.