Of course, all the best planning and patience in the world can be gone in the merest blink of an eye when kids and animals are involved. Who said you should never work with them? They were wise beyond their years, for sure.
We had a great weekend. The kids all but bedded down in some of the places we saw, fighting over whose room was this or whose view was that.
It felt like home. Oh how misguided we can be when the rose tinted spectacles are placed over our noses.
Perhaps I'm being over simplistic. The girls in particular are conflicted, struggling with the huge changes that are being asked of them. I sort of get it but we've been explaining all the reasons why change is good, why change is necessary and how good we can make it and there seemed (ney, WAS) a level of engagement and interest. But this week, at least, it isn't enough.
It seems that the brakes have, temporarily at least I'm hoping, been firmly slammed on, minds closed down and excitement reversed.
I'm not changing my mind. I've made an offer on a house we can't really afford but am hoping (fingers crossed) that a market reasonable (though hugely below asking price) offer will be accepted.
And then we'll worry about what comes next.
So, the kids took it well. In fact, they took it very, very well. They seemed excited at the prospect of planning and discussing and investigating. We shared brochures and web searches and chatted and talked and finally booked some viewings.
Of course, as with all the best laid plans, there's a fly in the ointment that buzzes and flits around causing disruption and as much mental anguish as possible, but we seemed to manage it well enough and kept the conversation flowing and the kids engaged.
We drove around, we saw, we found one or two almost unpleasant in their state of preparedness for viewing, but I guess some people have different standards to us. Or maybe I should learn to hold my breath and close my eyes to the cobwebs, dust and flotsom and jetsom that some people call home?
We talked more, they ran around properties choosing 'their' bedroom, 'their' bathroom, 'our' bedroom, where the pets will sleep, eat and where we'd put our furniture. It was good.
Of course, finding one that we love (or like enough), that works for our gaggle of kids and animals, is in the right location and meets at least most of our fundamental criteria and that we can afford, is a challenge for another day.
That, and making sure that the girls get to enjoy it all with us.
We kicked tyres, or bricks in our case. We tested waters, we felt our way in the dark. We weren't wrong. It's a good fit. It's comfortable and safe and, for me at least, it's home.
We are in agreement. This isn't a huge error of judgement or a mistake or something we're wavering about. We are going to do this. We're going to make the move.
So, what do we do next?
We have to plan schools, estate agents, find properties to view that meet requirements (it's amazing how, "we don't have any specific requirements except enough bedrooms for one each" becomes a longer list of "well, we need this, and that, and oh, yes, this thing here, and some extra bells and whistles and, while we're at it, I really need this thing" without you even realising that you have this longer list of not just wants but in some cases, needs).
And then we have to speak with the kids. We have to explain, listen, talk, explain, explain and reassure them to the ends of the earth that, making this move is not going to ruin their lives, change the way we feel about them (nor them us, although I'm not so sure on this point), how 'different' doesn't mean 'bad/evil/mean/nasty/scary (although it does mean that a little bit)' and is, in fact a huge opportunity that we can't wait to share with them.
I've spoken with my boys. I talk to them about pretty much everything, as I always have. But that's probably what it's like for boys with their mum. Girls with their dad have a different communication set and that's a challenge that we are both going to face.
There have been hints, discussions and mentions of possibilities, but as yet no definite discussion around 'this is what is happening'.
It's (probably) happening this weekend. We've already taken two huge steps forward. Now let's see how many we take back the way we've come.
If only it were nearly as simple as looking at pretty pictures of houses, finding the one that meets all our requirements (the easiest part of all, of course....), having our offer accepted and then moving.
More to the point, why isn't it even close to being that simple?
Between us we have four close to or actually teenage kids, a gaggle of emotions, hormones and blunt honesty to battle with alongside our own angst and concerns. Seriously, who would ever put themselves in that position?
Us, it seems.
Maybe it was easier or just different when we were younger when dads earned the income, mothers ruled roost and kids did as they were damn well told instead of answering back at every opportunity?
Perhaps we're underestimating their ability to accept, cope or live with our decisions, but we're putting off the final moment when we say, he kids, want some sweets/chocolate/can of fizzy pop/we're moving 100 miles away and you're all changing schools?
I'd like to think that the deck of estate agent details we have is persuasive enough; what we can afford 'there' vs what we have or could possibly afford 'here' is glossy and impressive enough to bring round even the biggest cynic, I hope.
But perhaps I'm the one who's failing to face the inevitable battles and shouting matches that are heading our way like a raging torrent.
Alongside their hormones and angst we have to be concerned with rebelling (I'm trying to not even think how far they could go with that), running away (a possibility I guess at any age but they are beyond the foot stamping age), moods that could fell god himself on a bad (or even a good) day and how all of that will impact on their siblings (of one sort or another) or, quite possibly more importantly, us.
When did we an age when 'because I said so' just wasn't enough?
