It’s not easy distilling and packing up one’s life in a matter of weeks. (I hear you thinking “DUH!” Go ahead, it’s OK.) We knew this going in, of course. But as is true for so many things, the reality is, umm, challenging, to put it politely.

In an effort to start somewhere, the better part of last Saturday was spent hunting through our apartment looking for items to sell at a local flea market. Suddenly, the closets seemed much deeper and more packed with stuff. Some things we thought we’d sold earlier were hiding in said closets. Plus our attic held all sorts of unremembered “treasures.” I swear, that shit multiplies overnight when we’re not looking. By the end of the day, we’d gathered enough for two car loads and declared it “good enough for now.”

Sunday found us awake at 4:3o am, groggy but looking forward to SELLING ALL THE THINGS! There were only 4 other vendors when we arrived at 6:30 am, coffee and donuts in hand. We laid out our wares, tied on our money pouches, and caffeinated our bodies while we waited for buyers and grumbled about why it’s still so cold at the end of April. The boys ate more donuts than would usually be permitted and then happily discovered a large mound of mulch to play on.

Mulch piles are irresistible…

If you didn’t already know, there are some interesting people who like to go to flea markets. What you may not know is that there are some really interesting people who go to flea markets in Central Mass. Many people like to chat and were very encouraging about our imminent move. Others don’t even like to make eye contact. All of them want to spend the least amount of money possible. We didn’t care. We practically gave some stuff away, because, you know, we can’t take it with us.

Trying to sell all the things!

It’s surprisingly tiring to be outdoors, on your feet, interacting with the public, negotiating prices, and constantly reminding the kids not to play on that enticing mound of mulch that we later learned was mixed with manure. Seven hours later, we were exhausted, wind-burned, and chilled to the bone. We packed up the car—somehow there were still SO MANY boxes and tubs—and headed home to count our hard-earned monies. The grand total? $94. A bit disappointing for all the time put in, but it covered this week’s groceries, so no complaints. And now we have fewer belongings than before, which is the goal after all.

However, I have a feeling we’ll be posting more items on Craigslist, Close 5, and Facebook Yard Sale pages this weekend. Much less time-consuming, also less risk of reddening sensitive skin and overconsumption of donuts. That’s not to say there won’t be more flea market adventures. We’ve heard they’re busier on Saturdays…

Meanwhile, the realities of our future life in Thailand are being revealed in little details, like this one, a direct quote from one of the current RIS teachers we’ve been emailing with:

Our landlord set us up with a gardener awhile back, but she hasn’t come in forever because there hasn’t been enough rain for anything to grow… You do have to keep the grass short so you can watch for snakes.

Snakes? OK then! Good to know. It’s also good that the boys have seen the Simpsons episode “Whacking Day” as there may be some snakes that get whacked in the next couple of years. And here I was worrying about the stray dogs and cats…

As for spider webs, this is the analogy I’ve been drawing to the incredibly complicated logistics that comprise an international relocation. As a spider web is an intricate connection of threads, so are the details we’re trying to navigate in a way that makes sense. We’ve been capturing our many tasks on an awesome app called Trello. It’s like a shared digital bulletin board where we can track and assign jobs to each other.

One of our many Trello boards

We’ve made “boards” for overarching categories and have been filling out the related details, such as gathering documents required by the new school, making appointments to get appropriately vaccinated, where and how to sell practically all of our belongings—including the car, what we need to get our visas, scheduling good-bye visits, what to do about our phone contracts… The lists feel ENDLESS. Not to mention overwhelming. For each task we cross off, we add two or three more. Most of them feel like priorities, so now we’re in the process of putting a deadline on each to-do and transferring them to a large calendar to refer to at a glance.

But we found that we couldn’t move forward on many of the tasks until we made decisions about some of the others. Like a spider’s web, we needed a center around which to start laying the connecting details, or threads, that will bind it all into a cohesive plan.

(image courtesy of pestproducts.com)

So where to start? We eventually realized that we needed to start at the end. We couldn’t move forward until we figured out which airline would allow us to bring our dog. Booking our flights was the center thread of our web.

Tetley getting used to her new “airline-approved” crate

After hours of research, disheartening phone calls, and ridiculous quotes from “professional pet relocation” companies, we’ve finally found an airline with a decent pet- and wallet-friendly policy. By the end of this week, our flights should be booked on Qatar Airways. Apparently, this is the preferred airline of sultans and falcons—and now Brodeurs. Our beloved Tetley gets to fly as “excess baggage” in her airline-approved crate in the temperature-controlled cargo area. Such a relief! 

We’ll be flying out of Boston late on July 14th, a Thursday, with a stop in Doha, Qatar, on Friday afternoon. We won’t land in Bangkok until Saturday morning. Flying halfway around the world will be an adventure in and of itself. Hello jet lag! I suspect we won’t know which way is up. Good thing our boys are both excellent travelers. It’s also good that we’ve given ourselves several days for our body clocks to adjust before the official orientation process begins.

It feels like progress to have made a solid decision. One big hurdle successfully surmounted. Onto the next thread: housing. We’re considering a very nice house to rent, within walking distance of the school and close to other RIS families with young children. The question is: Do we sign a lease now, having seen only photos and a personal video tour with the current tenant? (Bird in the hand, plus we’d already know our address and where we’ll be living.) OR do we wait until we get there and look at several other houses in person  so we can compare but do so while dealing with jet lag and competing with other new teachers? You’ll have to wait until next week to find out.

PS. If you know of anyone looking for a well maintained 2008 Ford Escape Hybrid with low milage, let me know! Available early July.

Only 95K miles. Leather interior. Great on gas.

A lot’s happened since last we wrote, FIVE years ago. That’s a long time, especially with two little kids. But it also feels impossibly quick.

So here we are, in 2016. Our kids aren’t so little anymore…

Tobin (8), Duncan (10), and Tetley (2)

And Kevin and I are wiser, happier, closer, and definitely more gray. It’s been a good, albeit bumpy ride.

Here’s a (somewhat) distilled version of what we’ve been up to since last we wrote.

After leaving my full-time editorial job, I started a creative arts business while still editing on the side. At least, that was the plan. But I soon discovered that creating “on demand” wasn’t fun or financially viable because of the time involved in creating each piece. Plus, marketing my business? Umm, yeah. That didn’t happen.

I eventually decided to unplug my website. Ready for next…

A few months into our brave new world, I stumbled across Anna Kunnecke, an amazing life coach, who helped me see myself through different lenses. Best investment ever. My biggest shift was realizing that no one else had a stake in my “worth” but me and that I’m capable of so much more than I thought. I’ve since worked with several other wonderful coaches, like Amy Jones, Sarah Papp, and Amy Pearson, among others, for both business and personal growth. Being my own boss has led me to be bolder, braver, and sassier. 

I’m now a coach myself, and it seems like such an obvious career choice (in hindsight, of course). I help smart, busy women simplify all aspects of their lives and navigate life’s transitions with grace and confidence, one step at a time. 

As planned, we did simplify and learned to live with a lot less, for better and worse. The change of pace was a gift, and as my stress level diminished my well-being quickly returned.

We didn’t end up raising chickens, but we did grow vegetables and explored local places and played and took a few wonderful vacations:

Kevin built these raised beds. We grew the tastiest corn and tomatoes!

Tower Hill Botanical Gardens

Backyard shenanigans

Papa Robinson and Tobin

A lake house we rented near Wilmington, VT

4th of July camping weekend

Wilmington, VT

Top of the Empire State Building, NYC

I loved being able to spend more time with the boys. I began to pay attention to things I’d been oblivious to in our former day-to-day rushing. I actually noticed signs of the seasons changing. I cherished the little moments. Every day I was grateful for not having to race to catch that train. Life truly felt rich.

But it was also really, really hard to be a freelancer, not knowing when the next check was coming. We struggled a lot, mostly financially. But I haven’t regretted leaving my job, not one day since. I’ve had steady editorial work from a handful of loyal clients and have been gradually growing my coaching business.

Despite that, we came to the point where we just couldn’t afford our mortgage and the costs of homeownership anymore. We were sliding deeper into debt. We didn’t qualify for the new refinancing options for underwater mortgages because our bank happened to be excluded, and they certainly had no interest in helping us. I toyed with the idea of finding another full-time job, but it made me sick just thinking about it. I knew—and Kevin insisted—that I owed it to myself to really try to make a go of my coaching business, marketing and all.

When the housing market finally started to stabilize, we decided to sell our house. Several realtors told us we could get at least what we paid for it back in 2005. But that was not the case. It was an emotionally grueling year of endless showings and no viable offers. We kept lowering the price until we finally decided to take a big loss just to get out from under it.

One of our many, many yard sales

We sold the house, our second car, loads more “stuff,” and felt a deep and blissful freedom that we hadn’t felt in a long time. We were ready for next.

“Next” turned out to be full circle. We chose to go backwards, knowing that it would one day mean we could go forward again. And that’s why we moved back into the exact same apartment we had lived in 10 years before on the campus of the school where Kevin teaches.

We currently live on the top floor of this house, within walking distance of school.

It was an odd sort of deja vu, except this time we had two kids and a different dog. We’ve enjoyed being in a quieter, more rural area with woods nearby, two soccer fields for a backyard, and a community of other teachers.

But two years later, we’re ready for next again.

And “forward” has led us to a very exciting adventure indeed. We’ll soon be moving to the other side of the world; Thailand will be our new home! Kevin will be leaving Applewild, having taught there for 17 years, to join a new school: Ruamrudee (scroll down the page for a cool video about the school and the area). It’s an international English-speaking school on the outskirts of Bangkok.

While it may be shocking to many, a move of this magnitude is actually something we’ve talked about for years, typically over cocktail-fueled anniversary dinners. We’ve long fantasized about doing something unconventional, moving somewhere else where we can get ahead while helping others, too. Where the boys would have a life that’s less “privileged,” in the conventional sense, but rich in experience and travel.

So here we are, poised on the brink of such an adventure. Living in Thailand will allow us to drastically cut our living expenses, pay off our debt, save some money for the future, help others less fortunate than us, live even more simply, travel to incredible destinations, and be fully immersed in a world entirely different from the one we so comfortably know.

The reality, of course, is that every single aspect of our lives will be new and strange: the language, the culture, the school, the climate, the food, the money, how we get around, what we wear….  As we traverse the roller coaster of emotions that come with such a seismic shift, we’ve realized that it will be vital to have a core of stability. Things about us that will stay steady and true, something we can lean on during the tumultuous navigation of such big changes.

That core is our connection to each other, all four of us. We’ve likened this transition to transplanting a thriving plant that has outgrown its pot. We’re being deliberate about keeping our “familial root ball” intact by making sure we maintain a few of our beloved rituals and routines, the familiar threads that uniquely bind us as a family. 

Thai (and other) basil (image courtesy of Bonnieplant.com)

One way we do this is to talk—a lot—about how we feel about the move, what we’re looking forward to, what we’re scared about, and how we intend to keep in touch with family and friends. We’re making plans and decisions together. We’re enlisting the boys’ help in sorting through our belongings and deciding what’s important to keep and what we can let go and give to others. These are the nutrients that enrich our bonds and that will help us reroot in the new, fertile soil of another world.

We’ll be posting here to document the lead up to the move, which is now 12 weeks away, mainly because we want a record of this unique time of great change. Of course, we’ll also be recording the adventure itself.

Kevin has signed a two-year contract, so it’s not forever. But we’re open to whatever—or wherever— feels like “next” after that. We imagine we’ll look back in awe, humbled by our bravery and amused by our naiveté. Much like we’ve done over the past 5 years.

We’re honored that you’re along for the ride.

Christmas lights bus tour of Boston. No, we’re not a silly bunch at all.