PH likes change.
It is one of his most baffling but also more endearing qualities. He likes to visit new places, try new things, and basically expose himself to all kinds of potential for disappointment, regret, and other things that I avoid as if they were herpes.
Change me no likee.
Well, that’s not quite true. I like GOOD change. Really obvious, risk-free, guaranteed-to-be-positive change!
Most change doesn’t fit that criteria.
It was his love of change that sent PH out to Vancouver in the first place. He sold all his possessions, up and moved.
Making the decision to move out there with him several years later was probably one of the riskiest things I have ever done. I was leaving friends and family behind and quitting a job I liked. But on the other hand, I was heading to a place with much better job opportunities, I was young, and I had my fiancé with me.
It was fun, and exciting, and difficult. I had trouble finding a job, I had trouble making friends, and I had a lot of trouble putting down roots. I suffered depression. I lost two jobs.
But I’m finally getting settled in.
And now, Perfect Husband is starting to get bored of Vancouver.
I think he is also getting tired of sharing me with three different jobs – my vet clinic job, my dog training business, and my occasional Elance work.
Even though he knows we need the money, and he is supportive of my dog training business in general, he doesn’t like me disappearing for half the weekend on my dog training appointments. And if my clinic job asks me to work a Saturday? There is definite grumbling to be heard.
But at the same time, we want a second child and have no idea how we will be able to afford it. The math just doesn’t work.
If we didn’t have a $220,000 mortgage plus monthly condo fees, we wouldn’t be feeling the pinch so much. It doesn’t help that we know that if we outgrow our current place, we’d need an even larger mortgage. Our current one is tiny by Vancouver standards, because our complex has so many repair issues.
For a larger place, we’d be looking at $600,000 or more, very probably. And that just ain’t gonna happen unless I suddenly become VERY famous and rich.
So whenever a job pops up at PH’s company in a place with lower housing prices, even if it’s a job that he is totally unsuited for, he applies for it and starts browsing houses. I’ll get a text saying ‘Hey, want to live in Memramcook?” or “Who wants to move to Burns Lake?”
Of course, since he’s largely unqualified for most of these jobs, and because he lists moving costs as a condition of getting the job, the chances are remote… but there have been some close calls.
And every time he does this, I have to think about how I feel about moving.
The problem all comes down to change.
I’m actually HAPPY right now, which, to quote Marlin from Finding Nemo, is a big deal, for me.
I like the vet clinic where I work. I like my boss, and my coworkers.
My dog training business is picking up. We actually have a minor TV celebrity on our training roster right now. If we get permission to use her name on our website, that will look AWESOME.
I have friends who have little boys of about Owl’s age. Our neighbour dropped his two sons off to play with Owl for a couple hours yesterday and the house got so much more peaceful with to toddlers to occupy Owl’s attention. We have another friend’s tot coming over for a babysitting session tonight, so Owl will be happier than a pig in muck.
For all of the issues we occasionally have with Owl’s daycare, he loves it there. He talks constantly about the other kids, he hates to leave, and they love him. They tell him “I love you, baby” constantly.
Daycare Lady’s daughter even painted a large (and slightly Uncanny Valley creepy) portrait of him which now dominates the playroom. It is the Temple of Owl over there.
So why on Earth would I leave?
Oh, right – the fact that we are a $4,000 flight away from our families at Christmas time.
Oh, right – the fact that our parents aren’t getting any younger and are missing Owl’s toddlerhood.
Oh, right – the fact that we have no idea how we will be able to support a second child.
Oh, right – the fact that we definitely have no idea how we would ever afford a larger house than we have now.
If you had asked me three years ago if I wanted to leave Vancouver, would probably would have said yes. I was unhappy with my job, my friendships still felt uncertain, and I was lonely and feeling damaged by years of workplace bullying.
But now I don’t know.
I want to be closer to my family, but I don’t really want to start over in a new city – make friends, put down roots, go through all of that again.
I REALLY don’t want to have to hunt for a new job. My job experiences have been so fraught with stress that I just can’t face it again.
If we moved anywhere, I would want it to be either such a massive promotion that PH could mostly support us on his own, and I could just write or train dogs for extra money on the side, or it would have to be a place with such cheap houses that it amounted to the same thing.
And when it comes to moving back to the Maritimes, well, I have a lot of conflicting feelings.
On the one hand, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick are home to me, and probably always will be.
The clapboard houses, the drifts of snow, and the shabby corner convenience stores are real to me in a way that Vancouver has never been. I see Vancouver as shiny and soul-less by comparison.
Besides, if we moved back there I wouldn’t be facing the making friends issue – I still have friends there, although they don’t have boys Owl’s age the way my friends here do.
But they’re old friends who would pick up with me as if I never left.
On the other hand, I’m a massive snob.
I went through the public school system in Nova Scotia and I shudder at the thought of putting poor Owl through it. Even though I know there are good teachers and bad teachers everywhere, and it’s all just a crap shoot.
I also feel like being a professional dog trainer from Vancouver means something, whereas if I ever wrote a dog training book, the fact that it was written by a trainer in, say, rural New Brunswick wouldn’t do much for my reputation.
Everything in the Maritimes is small, and expectations are low. Businesses tend to have shoddy signs, and websites that use comic sans. People “from away” are looked at with suspicion.
I feel like moving East would be a huge step back for my career, even if it were a step forward for our finances and family life.
This is the stuff I torture myself over.
I’m happy right now, but like it or not, change is coming – either we have a second child and things get really challenging, or PH actually gets an offer from one of these jobs he applies for, and my entire life will be uprooted, with good and bad consequences mixed right in.
I DON’T LIKE CHANGE.
If By Yes 
“Everything in the Maritimes is small, and expectations are low. Businesses tend to have shoddy signs, and websites that use comic sans. People ‘from away’ are looked at with suspicion.”
If you replace “the Maritimes” with “Wichita,” that is where I live. But our family is here, and it’s cheap. Ugh.
And thinking about change is so much worse than actual change sometimes.
Well, thanks for crapping all over the place where I was born, where I’ve chosen to live and raise my children.
We could move. We looked at Ottawa, as Michael is fluently bilingual and could pretty easily move into the civil service. We contemplated Montreal because housing costs are low. Ultimately, the slower pace of life here convinced us – and there are plenty of vibrant businesses here if you choose to go that route instead.
I think that you didn’t mean this to come across as harshly as it did. But really? I can appreciate that change is hard, believe me. But to hold up all the worst things about the Maritimes and basically make it sound like we’re a bunch of poorly-educated savages squatting in ditches poking berries up our collective noses… ouch. You have a wide readership across North America – wider than I do – and I suspect they are now left with a pretty unappealing image of life here. That makes me sad.
I didn’t think she was being particularly harsh. Just realistic and speaking to her own experience. Even if your experience of the Maritimes is different than hers, it doesn’t mean that she’s wrong.
No, it doesn’t mean she’s wrong. But nor does it mean that I can’t refute what she’s saying here.
OK, further to that – I first read this post last night and it made me all defensive and annoyed, but I didn’t reply because I thought “no, Hannah, you’re just being defensive & annoyed”. Then this morning I saw that there was a comment, and sure enough the take-away for that reader was something very negative about this entire region. Look, everyone blogs about their own experiences on their own blog. So do I. But unless there’s a dialogue, what’s the point? It sounded harsh to me and not particularly fair – especially the bit about the public schools. Are they perfect? No. But I would hazard a guess that the schools in Vancouver aren’t perfect, either.
Anyway, my experience with living here has issues – no place will have everything the way you want it. But we earn a comfortable living, our kids are happy & healthy, and I wanted to make the point that living in the Maritimes has not been, for us or many other families, a backwards death sentence written in comic sans.
You absolutely can. What you can’t do is tell her that she’s not allowed to speak to her own experience because she has a “large readership,” and may give a bad impression of the Maritimes. If this is her experience, then this is her experience, for good or bad. And again, I don’t think that she was being overly harsh, but maybe my experience of the Maritimes has also been different than yours.
And that’s fine. But being harsh right back at her, is not the way to go about doing that.
Ok, first off, I understand your need to defend the place you grew up in and love. Remember, I love it too, and I didn’t even grow up there. I lived in Toronto, and then the Caribbean, and I moved to Nova Scotia as a surly teenager where everyone bullied me into severe depression.
I went from private schools with teachers who pushed me to do my best, to public schools with worn out public servants who were just happy that I knew how to read.
I went from being teased occasionally for the same reason I was respected – my brains – to being taunted and bullied within an inch of my life.
My entire family was rejected from the Wolfville social scene for over a decade because the property we owned was previously rented to another Wolfville family, who had to move when my parents decided to retire there. Even though my parents gave them four years of warning, we were The People Who Kicked Out The Mangles for years and years.
I even had a boy I liked tell me, IN LINE AT GRADUATION, that I wasn’t “from the Martitimes” and never would be, because I wasn’t born there. Never mind that I had lived there for the last four years. Never mind that both my families were from the Maritimes. Never mind that Wolfville is named after my great great great great great grandfather. I had the gall to be born in Windsor, Ontario, and so that was where I would always be from, even though I had no memory of the place.
And despite all of this, Nova Scotia is home. Despite all of this, I went to university at Mount Allison, instead of Guelph, when I was offered scholarships at both, even though Guelph had much more options for animal-based degrees. I never regretted my choice. My favourite place in the world is still Sackville, New Brunswick.
And I know you know that I have spent the last four years complaining about all the ways in which Vancouver is inferior to the Maritimes. So I know you know that I love the kitchen parties, the random strangers who talk to you in Tim Hortons, the lobster traps, and the donairs.
In this same post I called Vancouver soul-less.
But I also think it’s ok for me to mention the things I don’t like – the reason that I left. And that is JOBS.
I think Stephen Harper is an ass, but he was right about Nova Scotia’s culture of defeat. Everyone in the Maritimes is just so used to not having any money that they just accept it. I have lived in a lot of places and I see the difference.
And In fact, I know you know it, because I remember you, me, and Grace chatting about this over tea one day when Harry was about 6 months old. You told me about someone you knew who kept having children to get the EI money. You said yourself that poverty has become a way of life for many people in Nova Scotia.
And there just isn’t the population to support the kind of career opportunities I needed. There are ZERO service dog charities East of Quebec, because such charities are INCREDIBLY expensive and require a massive donation and volunteer base to run. They’re like Ikeas – they have a high minimum population base. But Vancouver has three Ikeas, and three service dog schools.
I was making 9 bucks an hour working as a tech in a vet clinic in Halifax. Now I make 18 bucks an hour in a vet clinic, and people pay me 70 bucks an hour to train their dogs after I picked up several years of working a salaried job at a service dog charity. I charge people 300 bucks for 6 sessions with their pup, and 400 for 6 sessions with an adult dog.
And my business partner reeled in $2,000 this month from a single client – that celebrity.
But it’s not about money, because our mortgage would be sliced in half if we moved back East, so it’s okay that I would have to charge people half as much to train their dogs. But on the other hand, Nova Scotia doesn’t have that city glamour that you need if you want to be a world class authority as a dog trainer, and as much as we love it, saying so wouldn’t make it true.
Nova Scotia has a lot to offer. Wealth and fame are not on the list. I’m sorry if that offends you but I think that deep down you must know that this is true.
Go ahead and tell me that Nova Scotia is full of small or home-based business owners who have shiny business cards and a 2 million dollar home, and I will apologize. But I see the kind of people who hire me to train their dogs in their mansions here and I know what they do for a living, and they would NOT be making that much back East. They would probably be unemployed back East.
You say yourself that you and your husband could have great job opportunities West, but choose to live in Nova Scotia for “the slower pace of life”. I think that’s a perfectly valid decision – after all, I’m contemplating it myself. But it IS a trade off, right? Proximity to family over career opportunities, choosing the Maritimes because they ARE the Maritimes over other considerations.
Perfectly valid, but I don’t think it’s wrong for me to point out that the trade-off exists.
The Maritimes has flaws. I could lie and say that wasn’t true.
But do you really think that I am morally obligated to lie because I have a readership?
I’m not going to get into a back-and-forth about where the economic opportunities are greater – clearly in a big city there are more & I didn’t dispute that. What I did take issue with was your tone. 95% of the time when I read something that puts my hackles up I just say nothing. This time, I chose not to let the same tired old culture of defeat stuff get put out into the public sphere without reminding people that there is more to the Maritimes than nepotism, shabby convenience stores, and some (not all) poor schools.
Could I have phrased it differently? Sure. You could have, too. But then you’d be asking me to lie as well and pretend that your statements didn’t sound dismissive and needlessly negative, so I guess we’re going to have to agree to disagree.
I fail to see how I could write a post about my ambivalence about moving home without discussing that negative stuff. It’s not like I wrote a whole post about why NS sucks. You’re talking about two sentences. And You’ll notice that I have neither objected to your tone nor your objections. I just pointing out that I have been singing the maritimes’ praises for years and I think I have earned the rift to the occasional negative sentence. God knows I beef about the Vancouver rain and bad drivers all the time.
Ugh. Wolfville. I love this town- seriously love this town. I truly think it is very special. But everything you say about this town- how they treat “come-from-away’s” and anyone who may upset their little tiny balance (eg, “kicking out” a family as prominent as the Mangles) is so, so true.
Funnily enough, all the super-neat, culturally-awesome parts of Wolfville are a result of come-from-aways.
I don’t think Carol sounded all that harsh. Again, she was speaking to her personal experience here in the Maritimes, and I think she has every right to discuss that. Also, don’t forget that she did preface her lack of keenness for moving back to her quaint home province with “I’m a massive snob,” clearly admitting that not everyone in the Maritimes thinks the way she does about home, and the reason for that is because she is a snob- not something most people are willing to admit about themselves (and “up-itty” people are seriously looked down upon over here in the Maritimes, where I was also born and raised, and still live).
And, she has repeatedly sung the praises of the Maritimes in past posts.
Anyway, I come from a different mind-set, perhaps. I’ve always been pro “let’s discuss openly why aspects of my country/religion/culture/politics/etc suck, as that is the only way we will create positive change.” I’m really sick of the “we’re not all like that” defense, as it does nothing but promote a fear of being politically incorrect.
Well said – “thesaltedtomato”! I have no stake in this debate as I live in South Africa and hadn’t even heard of “the Maritimes” until this post (geography was never a strong suit of mine!). I do however highly endorse constructive criticism and witty writing! I believe that the world is pushing “political correctness” too far, to the detriment of free and fair debate.
That said, I feel that there’s never any cause to post something deliberately hurtful.
How’s this for change …. my parents uprooted us from Italy when I was 7 years old and took us to South Africa!! Never mind no family of friends nearby … I couldn’t even speak or understand the frikken language! In fact (back then) S.A. had 2 official languages, English and Afrikaans. The first couple of months I didn’t even realize they were 2 different languages cos I couldn’t understand either!! 😦
Then (for reasons best known by my recently deceased father) we moved around every 1 to 2 years – although luckily still in Cape Town, just different suburbs. I grew up hating change and despising the mere thought of moving!
As soon as we were able to, hubby & I bought a “starter” home in a “new” neighbourhood (i.e. reclaimed swamp land). I didn’t care!! It was mine (well, the bank’s really) and nothing was going to make me move!
Someone once said there’s nothing certain in this life but change, taxes and death! And they’re right!!
My recently divorced mom-in-law (who lives in Durban) is no longer willing to live by herself. We agree, we love her and want her near, but we CAN’T all live in the little starter home that was perfect for a couple with a toddler … now that it would have to house 2 teens, 2 dogs, 2 cats & my mom-in-law aside from hubby & I!!
So we sold our house yesterday!
We’re moving to a better area and a bigger home, which has a delightful cottage on the grounds perfect for mom-in-law. We’ll be really close to each other but will also have our privacy. There’s even another flatlet at the back which is perfect for our soon-to-be 20yr old son. It even has a swimming pool and its own borehole water.
It’s all great!!
And I’ve been feeling sick to my stomach from the moment we signed the papers!
I DON’T LIKE CHANGE EITHER!!
Yes, my parents moved me Ti the Caribbean when I was a kid ad then to the maritimes when I was a teenager. While they were excellent learning experiences, the last move in particular was very painful and I think compounded my fear of change.
Congratulations on your New house!!!
Thanks! Now that the decision is made I just want the move to be over & done with already!!
Meanwhile I keep repeating the Serenity Prayer over and over again to try and keep calm! (God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference).
I trust that whatever change you choose to make will be the best one for you and your family. Remember to simply trust your own intuition and not worry about anybody else’s opinions!!
I take this opportunity to wish you, your family & friends, a Peaceful Festive Season and a Prosperous New Year!
We are trying to get organized to move to a different house in the same neighbourhood. We don’t have one in mind, but are looking at a future need of wheelchair accessibility, so basically any bungalow in a twenty block radius of where we live would do… I am stressed over that. It would be a *tiny* move, with almost no change in lifestyle or mortgage. I can’t imagine how stressful it would be to be constantly on alert that you could end up ANYWHERE
I think any move is stressful – uprooting your everything. But when it’s not far that you’re going it can be fun, too. A chance for a new start, a chance to redecorate… although for me it tends to be just a chance to go back to square one. I always sympathized with Mrs. Incredible who took two years to unpack the last box of stuff.
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