'So, Mr T, shall we emigrate?'

And that's how it all started, a throw away comment at the end of another long day for both of us, both tired, and a bit fed up of working our arses off (mainly Mr T I have to say .... I only work 2 days a week so the old 'long hours/working my arse' thing doesn't really apply) We looked at each other and just said 'why not?' not really thinking the other would go for it and, like so many pipe dreams, it'd just fade into the recesses after a while, but it didn't, this time it stuck.

To be honest I've always known that Mr T wanted to travel again, he spent a chunk of time in Fiji/Australia and New Zealand when he was a young backpacker and had fallen in love with NZ in particular. Me? Not so much, we moved around a fair bit when I was younger (Paris, Lyon, Wilsthire, Somerset, Lincolnshire and finally Gloucestershire - did you think it was going to read like a fashion mag? Paris, NY, Milan? Did the addition of 'Wiltshire' throw you?!) so my wanderlust was never really as pronounced as Mr T's. I've always been a bit of a homebird, putting down roots and familiarity are my 'thing' - I don't do spontaneous, or madcap or 'just for the hell of it', which is probably why my willingness to even discuss taking our little family halfway round the world came as such a shock to Mr T. Discuss it we did though, at length, and I could see his eyes light up with the excitement of it all and I got so caught up in it all, and so pleased to see how happy it made him, that before we knew it he had phone interviews lined up and guide books were bought, and giggled conversations were being had about 'when we live in NZ ...'.

There's a photo stuck to our fridge of a mountain on the South Island of NZ, it's reflected in the water so looks like it's rising out of another mountain, it's surrounded by water and there's a blue sky and scudding clouds above it. It's a beautiful photo and I've often looked at it and thought 'how beautiful that is, how amazing to have been able to see that' and then thought no more of it, until I pass the fridge next time and glance at it again. That photo's taken in new significance now because whenever I look at it I think 'it WILL be amazing to see that, and all the other things that are out there to see'.

It's been hard even getting to this point - the point at which we WILL go, we just don't know WHEN yet. There have been tears and a lot of sadness though, the feeling that things will never be the same again once we board that plane is a very powerful one. There are moments when I want to call the whole thing off and just stay near my Mum and all the things that are so familiar to me. I don't feel ready to take on the world, just me, my 3 beautiful children and wonderful husband. I want to be young and be looked after and told everything will be fine. I know it will be, fine I mean, because I know that whatever happens I have the most amazing kids who are going to benefit so much from being shown what else is out there. And there is more out there that they deserve to see and be a part of - there are volcanoes and mountains and the Tasman sea and whales and snow and the most amazing sunsets and rises. And there's sport to be played and waves to be ridden and sand to be felt beneath their toes. It's all there for them to experience and we can give it to them, we just need to get this horrible, hard bit out the way first. The first flight away from 'home' and all the people we love so much, who are our rocks and our drinking buddies and the people we laugh with/cry with and would do anything for. The one thing I hope we leave with them all is that this move isn't about escaping anything or anyone in the UK, we love this country and our life here, I just can't help but feel that there's a whole life out there that we need to experience or we'll always wonder 'what if' and I don't want to be that 'what if' person anymore, I want to be the person who said 'come on, let's just do it'.