Into 4th gear

If you’ve been following this blog and the thread of stories about changing gears from 1^st to 2^nd and into a rather slow moving 3^rd you will know about our move across the world to Australia and where we are now. They are sort of shortened versions of the main stages and brought frustrations which vented in the form of a very heartfelt rant on the obstacles and how our situation was getting not only complicated but didn’t seem to be heading for a happy ending. That’s all in the past now and things have moved on.

 

Now we find ourselves two years on almost to the day when my little tribe wandered through the arrivals exit lane at Kingsford Smith airport with huge amounts of luggage and Lottie in a backpack! She wouldn’t fit anywhere near it now. A lot has happened and there’s loads more to do but the main things are in place now. The kids are settled in their schools, the routine is almost becoming mundane on some days, except when they do as they’re told, and we have plenty of sports and things to do to brighten days and prevent life from becoming dull. Jobs are settling into something of a rhythm and the turn of events with my situation stopped our little motor from screaming itself to bits at maximum revs with a path mapped out to a more fixed position. Persistent persuasion and tireless hard work between me and the powers that be put a few things in place at the turn of the new year and to cut a long, dull story short it’s all paid off nicely. Nokia Siemens Networks want me as an employee and Australia’s Department of Imimgration and Citizenship have decided, after dredging through six inches of beautifully prepared paperwork and cashing a cheque for a few grand to grant the Heatleys permanent residence – and I can almost hear the sighs of relief gasping across PC screens on every continent!

 

Thus, we can happily shift into a much more leisurely 4^th gear, let the strain off and enjoy a relaxed cruise through town, so to speak. We should too, for the last couple of years have been pretty hard going at times. Apart from the learning curve in my work which has oftimes resembled the side of an inner city office block, I’ve been restricted to remaining in this job because the terms of our just-expired temporary visa were so rigidly enforced that any changes were prohibited.

 

What we have achieved up til now hasn’t been fully appreciated yet but it’s things like sending copies of the kids’ passports to head teachers so they can be enrolled as permanent and not temporary visitors to their schools that I’m most proud of. They would never have understood about being temporary residents and not being able to stay; in their little minds they live here now. Fortunately, the whole paperchase fiasco can be put to bed and certified copies of this, that and the other need no longer occupy large parts of our days. The form-filling and signatures may be less (there’ll still be loads more for something else…) and the feeling we’ve had inside of ‘not belonging’ can go away now for good. Last night we had a little celebratory glass or two of a favourite red from the Hunter coz we’ve earned it.

 

I remember the recent morning at the medical centre in Sydney where we’d block booked for all of us to be certified fit enough and things went from bad to worse as the kids played on the scales, learnt the letters on the eye chart by heart , teased the poor lady filling out our forms and nearly broke the height measuring stick. Then, they mucked about so much running along corridors like Batman and Robin trying to fly, that the poor lady attendant got flustered enough to write down three year-old Lottie’s height and weight as 1.80m and 85kg! I was feeling very woozy after giving blood, Zoe was starting to feel sick at the thought of it herself, I tried to calm the little ones but it was no use as the room spun and I desperately searched out a chair whereupon I passed out groaning like it was all over. Poor Zoe didn’t know what was going on from the room next door, the three littlies stopped playing up and stood around me on the chair with frightened looks on their faces fearing the worst, while Lindsay talked me back into a world of horribly psychedelic fluourescent lights and no windows. I’m sure the staff won’t forget that day in a hurry!

 

Thank heavens it’s all over now and we can read this and laugh. I know it’s been worth every minute of all that palaver too. We can relax a bit and get on with the seriously funny business of enjoying ourselves and one thing’s now certain – at least we can stay.

 

The Residents.