Can I tell you something totally insane? I just moved to Spain. I have to practice saying it out loud because I honestly can't believe it.

My family and I have been dreaming about this move, talking about it, and preparing for it for EVER, and now, we're actually here.

The last few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind. I wanted to write a blog post sooner, but it took me a while to figure out which suitcase most of my underwear was in. So, you know, first thing's first. 🤪

Really, though, I have SO many things to tell you — so much to say about this move and how it's been and what I've been learning. I feel like this story is just the continuation of my new book — because, our decision to move to Spain is where the story left off, and I can't wait to write this next chapter as we live it!

But let's back up a little bit.

Before I can tell you about Spain, I first need to tell you how we left!

We've lived in Nashville for the last 10 years, and so in theory, I would have wanted to do a big goodbye (or see-you-later) tour of all of our favorite places — but truthfully, there was no time.

Especially those last few weeks were totally insane.

We spent the last two weeks of our time in Nashville, in particular, going through literally every single item we own and having to do something with it (more on that wild process here!).

We had to find a home for everything we wanted to keep, and everything we didn't want to keep, because the lease on the house we've been renting these last few months is up. We had to find a home for all of our stuff, AND get completely moved out of our rental house, and sell our cars, AND get packed for Spain — we had quite a few nights of not quite enough sleep. 🤪

On Thursday of our last week in Nashville, we moved the girls to my in-laws' house and THANKFULLY, they took over care of the girls. They took them to the pool, had dance parties, and did fun art projects — leaving Carl and I with the time and space we needed for all of the zillion things on our to-do list.

Packing our bags was a truly crazy process, because we knew we could only bring what we could carry. We were limited by the eight checked bags that came with our plane tickets and a carry-on each, but we were even more limited by what we could actually carry (aka, NOT 12 bags).

At first, pairing down all of our belongings was relatively easy. This move was a great excuse to finally admit out loud that I have never liked that sweater or that spatula. For a while, the pairing back was freeing. But then, the more we paired down, the harder it got.

A few nights before we left, we finally had things packed into suitcases, only to realize that our suitcases were all massively over the weight limit.

This part was the hardest. What will we need once we get there? What won't we miss? What will be easy to find? It was hard to know. Also — it's one thing to get rid of stuff you don't care about, but quite another to filter through things you actually do.

So finally, on Sunday we had our bags packed. We were ready to hit the road — first to Indianapolis for a few days to spend with family, and then on to Chicago to see more family before we flew out from O'Hare.

But that's when it all fell apart.

Sunday was the SWEATIEST day in Nashville, and Carl, our resident packer, had spent the last several hours trying to get everything arranged.

(I heard recently that in every marriage, there's someone who packs the dishwasher like a Scandinavian architect, and someone who packs the dishwasher like a monkey. I'm definitely not the architect. 🤪).

But that's when Carl burst through the door — “Steph, we have a serious problem.”

We were already hours past the time when we thought we'd be hitting the road, and Carl was discovering — to his total horror — that our stuff wasn't going to fit in the car. Not even close.

We had a stroller, all of our luggage, plus some things we wanted to leave at Carl's parents house in Indianapolis, plus some things we wanted to give to his brother and our sister-in-law in Chicago. We had paired down to the absolute last things we wanted to bring with us and it wasn't going to work.

Do we rent another car for the drive? Do we wait and figure it out tonight and head up tomorrow morning? That didn't feel like an option because we didn't have anywhere for the twins to sleep. Finally, Carl called the local U-Haul place and found us a little trailer to drag behind us. The girls named our little caravan the Unicorn Train and we were finally off.

Indianapolis and Chicago:

The next few days were so sweet and special. Lots of time with friends and family before packing up again (this time with less stuff and no U-Haul) and we drove to Chicago for a few days of fun.

We celebrated the Fourth of July in Chicago with family we love so much — eating great food, playing games, splashing in the baby pool, and then exploring Chicago’s aquarium! (It was SO cool!)

One of the things that was so surreal and also special about those few days is that our flight left on my and Carl's 10-year-anniversary. As we packed and said goodbyes and made last-minute memories, we were also remembering a weekend ten years earlier when our little family first began.

I wish I could go back and tell myself on our wedding day what we'd be up to on our 10-year-anniversary. She would have been so excited. 🥰

For most of our last few weeks, none of it felt real. The fact that we were packing up, leaving, actually saying goodbye, actually doing this — it didn't hit until about 9pm before our 2am flight.

(I know, I know, a 2am flight? Are we crazy? We didn't plan it that way — the airline changed it at the last minute.🤦🏼‍♀️)

I was tucked into bed in my brother & sister-in-law's adorable Chicago home, trying to grab a quick nap before we headed to the airport, and when my alarm went off just an hour later telling me it was time to get up and get in the car, I found myself thinking, “What in THE WORLD are we doing!?”

It's like a wave of doubt and fear and reticence crashed over my already-tired self and I thought, “I actually don't know if I want to do this.”

In that moment, I didn't want to leave the comfort of my bed, let alone leave the comfort of everything and everyone I know and love. Choosing discomfort over comfort goes against your every instinct. It feels wrong on like, 10,000 different levels.

But we'd already decided. This is what we were doing, there was no backing out now. (This is why I always commit to big things well ahead of time. I'm definitely not my bravest self at the last minute).

We gathered our things, scooped our sleepy girls out of bed, and said our goodbyes.

Forget packing, goodbyes were ABSOLUTELY the worst part. We're moving to Spain for so many reasons. There are so many things our family stands to gain from this adventure. But leaving our people? That's the GIGANTIC downside to this whole thing. We hate being away from them. 😭

Tears still streaming down my face, we climbed into the dark car and Quinn spoke up from the backseat, “Where are we going, mama?” — I paused, feeling the enormity of the answer, “Quinnie, we're going to Spain.”

I cried all the way to the airport.

How was traveling in the middle of the night with two three-year-olds?

Okay, this part actually wasn't that bad! We've traveled quite a bit with the girls already — not internationally (only once, and it was years ago), but the girls are familiar with the airport routine, and more importantly, so are we.

(Kids are so adaptable. Being a new parent is so hard and totally discombobulating even at home, cushioned by routine and all the baby supplies you could possibly need. It's really hard to take that show on the road — at least it was for me.)

I still feel that intimidation, but less so the more practice we've had.

So going to the airport, going through security, waiting for our plane, it was all pretty familiar to all of us. The one thing I was counting on was that the girls would sleep once we got settled onto the plane. It was the middle of the night, they were exhausted, I thought they'd pass out and sleep until Lisbon. But that's definitely not what happened.

Annie didn't sleep for even one second. I don't know how she did it! I would have been impressed had I been slightly less frustrated. 😂 But yep, she did not sleep a single wink. Quinn slept for maybe an hour. Maybe two? But we definitely ended up doing more playing and wiggling and just overall not-sleeping than I'd anticipated.

But yet, we were still really okay. The eight hours passed faithfully, as time always does, and we made it to Lisbon in pretty good shape.

We did have a long layover there which was elongated by our next flight being delayed. (Side note: I was SO thankful for our travel credit card which gave us access to a lounge in the airport. Free food and plenty of space for us to hang out, yes please.)

And finally, finally, we hopped on our second flight made the quick trip from Lisbon to Malaga, landing in Spain around 1am.

We collected all of our bags (not a single one got lost!), found the driver I'd arranged ahead of time (just like a taxi, but arranged ahead of time, so I knew there'd be enough space for our luggage), and we drove to our hotel in Malaga that was right next door to the train station we'd be heading out of first thing the next morning.

(Still patting myself on the back for that planning. It made our life SO much easier.)

The four of us piled into a king bed and passed out for a few hours, before getting back up and hopping on the train — tired, but again, still really okay!

I was definitely nervous about the long travel day, how the girls would do, and also, in a way, how I would do. I've never done a travel day like this with kids. But it was totally fine. Not my #1 idea of fun, but not bad enough — by any stretch — to deter us from doing something like this again.

Arriving in Granada:

The next morning, we hopped on a train and an hour later, we arrived in Granada.

We'd been here in November — scouting out different cities, trying to decide which one we could picture our families in. We'd imagined life in Granada together as a family — but it was such a different experience to actually see our girls here.

Again, I cried all the way from the train station to our Airbnb — partly because I was tired, but partly because I'd pictured taking my girls to Spain a zillion times, and we were actually HERE!

For our first two weeks here, we're staying at an Airbnb with my best friend Kelsey and her family — who we moved here with. It was so good to see familiar faces right away and this house is pure magic.

It's a sprawling, historic family home with terra cotta floors and the most beautiful courtyard I could imagine. There's even a fountain. We're only here temporarily, but it's been the perfect landing spot.

And really, that's the way I feel about Granada. It's small, in that it feels like we'll be able to know the city and know it well in just another week or so. You can walk everywhere and it really doesn't take that long. But it's also big enough that we'll never be able to go to all of the restaurants, never fully be able to explore all of the nooks and crannies, never fully appreciate the depth of the history here. It feels like the more we explore, the more we'll realize there is to explore. I love that.

The best way I can describe Granada is that it's like Morocco and Tuscany and southern Spain had a baby — that's what it looks like anyway. Basically, my idea of heaven.

Okay, but how ARE you?

That's what several of my best friends have been texting me lately, and I want to give a disclaimer before I get into any of that.

My hope along the way is to really document the story we're living this year. Like I said, this feels like the next chapter in my book — Create A Life You Love — the continuation of where the book left off.

I'm so excited to live the next chapter of this story and so excited to document it and share it as we do.

But that being said, I do not want to glamorize this. I don't want to act like moving to a new country solves all your problems, or that we're spending every moment of every day drinking Sangria on a patio. 

We're still doing the normal life things — or trying to, anyway.

The big things I've been trying to figure out today: A. Where are we going to live? (small question, no big deal, not complicated, right? 🤪) B. Where do I buy nighttime Pull Ups?

The last week or so, we've been living in a real life version of House Hunters International — but it feels a little more stressful when it's actually your decision to make.

This week, already, we've been trying to work, pay bills, take care of kiddos, do laundry — all the normal life stuff, just slightly harder as we navigate a new place and a new way of life.

I don't want to glamorize something that in so many ways just feels like normal life in a different setting.

But also, this really is a total dream-come-true for me, and it FEELS like a dream-come-true — so I don't want to downplay that part either.

My hope in sharing our story as we live it is not to paint an idyllic, impossible picture of a life nobody actually can live — but to show another example of the truth that there's not one right way to live a life, and that if we exercise our authority and our creativity (and have some inspiration and decision-making tools in our back pocket), we can truly create lives we love. (Imperfect, messy, and beautiful — all at the same time.) 

So, that being said, how are you?

I'm doing pretty well. The biggest challenge is figuring out how to find time for all the things. We don't have childcare over the summer, and so figuring out who's in charge of the girls and taking care of them and doing fun things with them, while also still trying to keep up with work, and also get settled in a new country — a house, a bank account, cell phones, wifi, visa, etc.

The first few days I was living at the intersection of, “Omgosh, this is so cool! I can't believe we're doing this!” and “WHAT THE HECK DID WE JUST DO!?”

I say this all the time, but right up next to a big decision or change, I'm a total chicken. The only reason I actually do the scary stuff I've committed to is because at the eleventh hour, it's too late to get out of it.

That's how I felt about this too. I felt like, “Oh my GOSH, this is hard, this is scary, was this even a good idea to begin with?!” All of my doubts and fears crashed in on me and I couldn't believe we'd actually taken this leap. “Seriously, what were we thinking!?”

But now, after a few good nights of sleep, and being able to locate at least some of my underwear, that “What did we just do?!” voice is much, much quieter.

I'm feeling excited, hopeful, a little overwhelmed by the logistics of all that we still have to figure out, but really really glad we took this leap.

How are the girls?

They are doing awesome. They honestly didn't skip a beat. I was expecting tears and trouble sleeping and homesickness and confusion at this new place they find themselves in — and none of that has happened.

They've made themselves right at home — adapting to the Spanish schedule (lots of late nights!), city life, not having a car and walking everywhere, people around them speaking a language they don't yet understand, being away from a space that's familiar — they've been having a great time.

I do think the hardest part will probably be when they start school in the fall. The language barrier will be a bigger issue then, I'm sure. But for now, none of my worries about how they'd adapt have come true. They've done so well.

More soon!

What questions do you have? If there's something I missed, will you let me know in the comments?