Moving from the US to Spain: A Family Adventure

This is the story of how I moved my family from the United States to Spain on a Digital Nomad Visa.

I know, I know. It isn't the catchiest opening line. I'd say that's because reality isn't always catchy, but that feels…fake? Braggy? Not quite genuine? Especially because I'm writing this while sitting by the pool at the rental we have just outside of Toledo, Spain. The pool my two kids, 9 and 11, have spent the past two days living in, in between walking over to the market to get water guns and goggles for a euro or two while speaking only a few Spanish words.

And honestly? They're doing great.

Just over a year ago, I started the journey of applying for a Digital Nomad Visa. Not just for myself, but for my husband, our two kids, three cats, and a dog. Because apparently moving an entire family overseas wasn't enough chaos on its own.

Here's the thing, though. Almost everything I found about people on DNVs wasn't really about people trying to do what we were trying to do. Most of what I read came from true nomads: people traveling country to country with no kids, staying in single rooms or hostels, debating which cafés had the best Wi-Fi for work.

Which is great.

But that wasn't us.

I knew I could apply for a DNV and bring dependents because Google told me I could, and as we all know, Google has never led anyone into a panic spiral at 1 a.m. But what did that actually look like for a family like ours? A family that doesn't come from wealth. Helloooo, single-source income. A family without real estate, properties, or extended family waiting overseas to help us settle in.

We were just a typical American family. Or I guess now, a typical formerly American family. I work full time, my husband is the casa king, also known as the stay-at-home parent, snack manager, appointment rememberer, child wrangler, and emotional support human for everyone, including me. We have two kids who just finished 4th and 5th grade. We lived in a neighborhood just blocks from my mom, a short walk to school, and a short drive from our extended family that gets together for every holiday. My kids spent their time biking the neighborhood with friends, playing DnD, and going to the park.

So no, leaving was not simple. It was not glamorous. It was not one of those “we sold everything and never looked back” stories.

There was a lot of looking back.

There still is.

But America is scary right now, friends. And unaffordable. And heavy in a way that became harder and harder to ignore. So we decided to take a giant adventure and see what we could do to improve the quality of life for ourselves and our kids. We wanted breathing room. We wanted something different. We wanted to try.

And now we're here. Not permanently settled yet. Not magically fluent. Not floating through Spain like the main characters in a linen-pants travel reel. We are very much still figuring it out.

We're learning how to buy groceries, navigate rentals, enroll kids in school, and move pets internationally without losing our minds. We're learning that every official document seems to need another official document, and that every time you think you're done, surprise, someone needs an apostille. We're learning that traveling internationally with kids is both exhausting and hilarious. We're learning that picky eaters may suddenly become food critics when the food is this good.

Because holy crap.

The food is so good.

We've also had a lot of people ask us how we did it. Some ask because they're curious. Some ask because they're dreaming about doing something similar. Some say, “I could never,” because the whole thing feels too big, too scary, too complicated, too impossible.

And I get it. It did feel impossible at first. There were so many moments where I looked at the visa requirements, paperwork, costs, pets, school questions, income requirements, logistics, and thought, “Absolutely not. This is insane.”

And then we just kept going.

One form at a time. One appointment at a time. One “wait, what does this mean?” Google search at a time. One tiny little breakdown at a time.

That's why we're starting this blog. We want to share what it actually looked like to move a regular family from the United States to Spain on a Digital Nomad Visa. Not the polished version. Not the influencer version. Not the version where everything is beige linen and effortless market baskets.

The real version.

The version with kids, pets, paperwork, money stress, school questions, rental confusion, language gaps, jet lag, and the occasional “ohhhhh fuck” moment.

But also the version with pool days outside Toledo, fresh bread, tiny markets, kids learning to be brave, parents learning to be brave, and that wild, beautiful feeling of realizing you actually did the thing you spent a year trying to do.

We're still at the beginning of this adventure, but we're going to share as much as we can along the way. The dos, the don'ts, the stuff we wish someone had explained earlier, the paperwork timelines, the pet chaos, the school questions, the money stuff, the emotional stuff, the “was this a terrible idea?” stuff, and hopefully the “wow, I am so glad we did this” stuff too.

So welcome to Home a Casa.

We're glad you're here. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the chaos.

Xoxo, homeacasa