As we count down the days to Uruguay, life has turned into a mix of packing, paperwork, and pet-related plot twists. Tyson, of course, has taken center stage—because why make things easy?

Every fire sparks reflection—especially when the wood is from your own fence and your country’s burning down around you

If you thought moving was stressful, try moving internationally with two dogs, government red tape, and a dash of chaos for good measure. Just when we think we’ve got it all handled, life throws in a plot twist—usually involving paperwork, pets, or both.

Letting go is supposed to be freeing. That’s what people say, anyway. But no one really talks about what it feels like to watch your life—piece by piece—disappear into the back of a dump truck. Today, that’s our reality. As Mikey and I prepare for our next chapter, we’re saying goodbye not just to things, but to memories, moments, and pieces of ourselves that have filled our home for years.

Photos, vaccines, and government forms — ah, death by red tape. This week has been one hell of a ride.

Twenty-one days, vet visits, and possessions taken away — our lives turned upside down.

Emotions high, reality setting in, and restless nights. This level of stress should not be allowed.

To learn more, visit migrationtouruguay.com.

Ah, neighborhood parties—the perfect mix of awkward small talk, forced smiles, and the occasional police report. This weekend, we’ve got two to “choose” from: one where we’re invited out of obligation, and another where we’re the unofficial gay ambassadors.

We used to be that house on Halloween—the one kids loved and parents secretly dreaded. Now, our haunted house is closing for business.

When you grow up in Texas, a ‘mum’ means a giant, glittery chest-sized flower covered in ribbons, bells, and enough school spirit to weigh a teenage girl down. Up here in the Northeast, mums are polite little shrubs that politely announce fall. So, when Mikey and I went to the Bristol Mum Festival, I wasn’t sure if I should expect sequins or shrubbery. Spoiler: it was more food trucks and car shows than flowers—but the company made it worth it.

Moving to another country comes with plenty of hurdles—paperwork, pets, and packing. What I didn’t expect was that the hardest part might be convincing Texas A&M to notarize a transcript. Spoiler: it was less “efficient university process” and more “Kafka meets Office Space.”

You know those moments when reality suddenly shows up on your front porch in an Amazon box? Yeah, that was us the day the dog crates arrived.

All we needed were fingerprints. What we got was a mystery, a power trip, and two very fine nice looking officers.

Sometimes the smallest details can throw a big wrench into even the best-laid plans. Today, a single date on our dogs’ paperwork forced us to rethink everything about our departure to Uruguay.

Two Mikes. Two totally different moving styles. One house to clear out. What could possibly go wrong?

Letting go of things we’ve held onto for years isn’t easy. Yesterday was our first real attempt at passing furniture and keepsakes on to others—and while it didn’t go exactly as planned, it reminded us that every step forward, no matter how small, is part of the journey.

Yesterday was heavy—struggling through Spanish lessons, sorting through memories tucked in Christmas ornaments, and feeling the weight of what we’re leaving behind. But even in the hard moments, I know this journey is about love, growth, and the new life waiting for us in Uruguay.

Meet Magdalena Lazaneo
She’s our go-to immigration specialist in Uruguay—and honestly, a total lifesaver. From our first email to in-person appointments, she’s been warm, organized, and endlessly helpful. In just a few meetings, she guided us through residency paperwork, healthcare appointments, and even helped us start planning our new life in Montevideo. We couldn’t be doing this without her!

Moving abroad comes with its fair share of questions, but one we hear more than any other is: “What about the dogs?”

For those of you who don’t know, we share our lives with two rescued greyhounds—12 Oaks, our gentle 13-year-old, and Tyson, our goofy 6-year-old soon turning 7. They’re not just pets; they’re family. And of course, they’re coming with us to Uruguay. The “yes” was easy—figuring out how to make it happen has been the real adventure.

When we tell people we’re moving to Uruguay (yes, it’s still in the Americas!), the same questions pop up: Where is it? Why move? Have you been there? What about 12 Oaks and Tyson?

I’ll answer each in separate posts. Today’s question: Have we traveled to Uruguay? Spoiler—yes, and the journey itself was an adventure.

We’ve got some big news—we’re moving to Uruguay! Yep, it’s official: in just 53 days we’ll be starting a brand-new chapter of life in South America.

So why such a big move? The short version: the U.S. no longer feels safe for us as members of the LGBTQ community. Rights we’ve relied on for years are being chipped away, and the direction of the country made us stop and ask—where do we want to live and truly thrive?

That question led us to Uruguay.