In two months it will be ten years. Ten years since I left my family to start (unknowingly) creating mine. I treated it as if it were a road trip, a quick visit to the land down under with all my belongings on my back. My sister and mother drove 18 hours to meet my foreign boyfriend, to fill their car with my keepsakes, to tell me they loved me. It was something I regrettably took for granted.
As swiftly as we unpacked our bags, we tumbled head first into a wedded spiral and the foreigner shoes were transplanted to the other foot. We got jobs, we moved cities, and we even got to know each other. Four years into ten, we scuttled out a platinum blonde, blue eyed, adventure filled boy, whose heart was brimming with passion and fire. His three years as an only child were his for the taking. We were unsure, we fumbled around with taming this wild featherweight beast, with most nights ending in defeat and a silent mumma tear.
Year seven was when our path became clear. As husband and wife, we rose from our potential relationship ashes and triumphantly took parenting by the second child horns. Out hatched the sweetest little lady you could have ever dreamed. This calm being enveloped our family. She wrapped us in her tightly woven curls and smothered us in the mousiest of voices. Our boy had broken free from the chains of being a three year old and graciously released all the raddness that he had safely tucked away.
Nearly three years on and another city shed, we are partially planted. With dreams that are overwhelming, we long for our future with star filled eyes. Days may seem endless, with concrete feet dragging us down, but when your hearts are richer than your wallets, appreciation trumps all the rest.
Hayden, Janel, Raimi Norris (5), Nico Billy (2)
Auckland, New Zealand