Spain. We Made It.

There were times in this journey that I was honestly unsure if we’d ever make it. The emotional, financial, and physical toll was so much. I’ve gone through a lot of stressful events in my life, but this one might just take the cake. And honestly, it feels so vulnerable to share the doubts I had about this move. Because when you put it out there, there are always people waiting to say, “See, I told you so.” People who want you to fail, who think you’re crazy for even trying. But now that we’re here, I can look past that.

Still, I don’t feel like I’m doing this trip justice unless I share it here because—holy shit—per our family norm, it was A LOT.

Getting everything ready to move was intense. Sorting through our 3,000 sq ft home was emotional at times. It’s strange—when you finally acquire the things you once thought you always wanted, you realize how much of a mindset shift it takes to let them go. I did a similar purge when we moved to South Carolina just four short years ago, but this time was next-level. Even after condensing, showing up in Spain with 11 suitcases and a giant tote still felt like a whole new level of cleansing. We don't need to talk about all we left behind and forgot, it's all just stuff, right?

The last few days before the flight were nonstop. It’s not just about shoving your most important things into suitcases—it’s paperwork, checklists, re-checklists, and the mental load of leaving behind everything and everyone you know. It’s so intense. Weirdly enough, since arriving in Spain, my neck pain hasn’t returned, and I didn’t even have a migraine after all that stress from the travel. So yeah, it was worth it—but at the time, I wasn’t sure if that weight would ever lift.

Even after months of purging and selling, we still ended up donating, tossing, and giving away so much at the end. It was a race to the finish line, complete with blood, sweat, and tears. (Don’t worry, the blood was just me cutting my foot in a rush, not me actually punching my husband in the nose. Though, let’s be honest, moving out of the country tests even the strongest marriages.) To make things extra fun, my blood pressure was sky-high--167/100 right before leaving. That was one of the moments I really started to doubt myself.

Thankful for the friends and neighbors who helped our crew and cargo get to the airport.

Thankfully, friends and neighbors came through to help us get our crew and cargo to the airport. Nicole, Kate, and Ashley—you ladies are saints. You rallied when I needed you most, and I’ll forever be grateful for your help in the mess we left behind while trying not to.

We get to the airport, there’s a lightning storm, and our first flight is delayed an hour and a half. No biggie, we expected hiccups. Charleston to Atlanta goes fine. But once in Atlanta, we’re running full-speed to make our international connection. And then… the real adventure begins.

Our flight was on KLM, a Dutch sister airline of Delta. And let me just say—never again. I thought it would be like the Turkish Airlines flight Shannon and Tristan once took (with roomy seats, fancy food, and attentive service). Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

The plane was huge, bigger than anything I’d flown before. And this is where the chaos began. Picture the TikTok foreshadow trend: cut to my black cat in his carrier, followed by the scene of him busting out on a massive international flight. Yep, Theo escaped. A steward had literally just told me, in a stern British accent, that the cat was not to come out under any circumstances. Cue me stroking the side of his carrier with my foot for hours, just to keep him calm, while Tristan suddenly realized Theo had unzipped it and slipped out. Luckily, Theo froze in terror the second he tasted freedom on this large flying object that made a lot of noise.

Theo is trying to figure out what is happening in his life during a potty break, which he refused to partake in.

Meanwhile, I had two drunk German men behind me—feet in my space, legs knocking into our seats, laughing loudly at their games. And the food? Don’t get me started. Meatballs that made me gag, and the infamous Dutch obsession with liquid cheese--on pastries, on sandwiches, everywhere. Why?

Oh what is this you ask? That would be a drunk German sleeping man's feet in my space most of the flight. Riding in style.

But the worst part? The turbulence. I’ve been flying for years, and I’ve never experienced anything like this. It literally jolted me awake from the one precious hour of sleep I managed, and for a second, I thought we’d been in a car crash. That’s how violent it was. I sat there gripping the seat, crossing fingers and toes, deep breathing, praying to God, and wondering if this was it. Combine that with Tristan turning green from motion sickness, and I was a wreck.

Right as we landed, poor Tristan started vomiting. And it didn’t stop. By the time we made our connection in Amsterdam—running late, cat howling, teen puking—we were falling apart. A kind stranger even waited outside customs just to hand me Dramamine. People like that remind me there is good in the world.

No pics of Theo peeing down my leg or Tristan puking. Instead, here are my reminders to stay positive. My amazing friend, Nicole got me this bracelet, I saved it to wear for the first time on the flght.

My sweetest friend Linda, got me this ring to remind me that I am loved. It's adjustable and the perfect little hug. I also waited to wear this for the first time on our trip.

But of course, because this is our life, it got worse. Theo decided to pee—down my leg, through his carrier, onto my slides—as we boarded the small hopper plane. Right then. With everyone glaring at us to hurry up. I wanted to melt into the floor, but all I could do was grab some wipes and keep moving.

By the time we landed in Spain, Tristan had puked more times than I could count, Theo was a traumatized mess, and I was clinging to the little reminders from friends that I wore on the flight--a bracelet and a ring that reminded me I’m loved.

So yeah, our trip was an absolute shit show. If teleportation ever becomes an option, sign me up. But we made it. And now, the adventure really begins.

Thanks for following along on our chaos. Next week, I’ll share more of the fun side—our first adventures in Valencia.

Thanks for following us on our voyage. Here's a nice free after dinner shot we got in a cute little place called Little Food and Beer. Stay tuned for next week when I share some of our Valencia adventure.