Standard Canadian Apology:
I am sorry for obsessing/perseverating about this whole relocation thing on my blog. Don’t worry, now that I’ve actually made the decision to go, set a timeline and firm to-do list (which I will spare you the details of) I hope this blog will get back to more stuff about the kids. Or at least more funny stuff. Here are some links in the meantime.
So I’ve been struggling to decide on whether to stay in the city with a permanent teaching job or quit my job, and relocate to small-town Ontario. And we finally decided to do it. It’s only taken about 10 years or so. Permanent jobs, especially well-paying, permanent jobs are hard to leave.
So why go?
Because I’ve always wanted to, since I was about 10 years old. Flash forward 20-plus years.
What it’s taken is endless questioning and attempts to predict the future, analysing, researching and feeling the need to financially support my family and keep some sort of stability. But, there are a million reasons why this job and city life are right, and a million why they are wrong.
During our last trip to small-town Ontario I mentioned to an acquaintance how we struggled with the decision to leave the city and move there.
She said, “If this area is calling you, listen. You’ll be glad you did.” She went on to explain the things I knew: less pollution, more neighbours, great communities, awesome family resources, the fact that my earnings would go further, etc. She added, “I can swim at my beaches.” (The Greater Toronto Area is notorious for its polluted beaches – it’s actually novel for me to see people IN the water at the beach.)
I mentioned the decision to another acquaintance – actually, just a random stranger I’d just met. (In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to overshare.) Coincidently she is also a teacher and had relocated to the area a few years ago. (See, talking to strangers has its benefits.) Her kids were the same age as mine. Her words, “Do it. My kids are growing up watching deer and coyotes from our front window. We’re outdoors all the time. There’s so much to do here for the kids. You will get work. Trust me. You won’t regret it.”
I told Hubby, that’s it, we’re moving. And he was supportive.
The next morning I woke up and looked at the rental listings. And the enormity of the task hit me – why go through all the that work and stress – job searching, finding a place to rent, then finding something permanent, etc, etc. How on earth can I do this? How irresponsible is it of me to leave a well-paid job? What about the kids?
All I did was open the newspaper and I was completely overwhelmed.
So I told Hubby we’re staying. We’ll compromise, move to a smaller community and keep our jobs (which we don’t really care about anyway) and commute. Hubby was supportive.
Flash forward to my conversation with my long-time friend and super-smart person. She’s great with finances, real estate and all things business, so I explained the dilemma and ran the numbers by her. Her response, “Dude, why wouldn’t you go? You’ll be happy there. Your family are there – you want your kids to see their grandparents and aunt.”
I told Hubby we’re going. This time, we really are. I know we are. I feel it in my bones that this is ultimately the best decision for us. There are a million reasons for us to go. And I really can’t think of any to stay.
I asked my five year old, if he wants to live in a house near Granny and Grandpa. His looked wistful and smiled. He was silent. I asked him again. He whispered, “Yes.”
I should have asked him first.
Everything that can be counted does not necessarily count;
Everything that counts cannot necessarily be counted.
Dear Readers: I always appreciate your words of advice and support. xo Angela