Things I Didn’t Expect About Being an Expat Mom in Bologna

I expected the logistics to be hard.
I expected the language barrier.
I expected a learning curve that would demand patience I wasn’t sure I had (patience = work in progress for this mom).

What I didn’t expect was how many small, quiet adjustments would stack up all at once. Not dramatic enough to be their own stories, but noticeable enough to change the texture of everyday life. My post, Expat Mom in Bologna, is the start to this journey.

Things I Didn’t Expect About Being an Expat Mom

Here are a few things I didn’t expect about being an expat mom (in Bologna). At least not yet.

I didn’t expect how tired would feel different.
Not worse, not better. Just…layered. Physically tired from walking everywhere. Mentally tired from translating constantly. Emotionally tired from being the default everything for two kids while also learning an entirely new system myself. I constantly question and second-guess myself – “do I know how to say this?”. It’s the kind of tired that asks you to slow down, not collapse.

I didn’t expect how uneven adaptation would look.
We are all picking up the language at different speeds; however, my kids’ brains are clearly absorbing it quicker than mine is. They move through the city with confidence. They’re curious, observant, and far more flexible than I expected (huge win!). What’s been hardest hasn’t been big emotional breakdowns or sudden homesickness, but the limbo. Waiting. Uncertainty, the ‘unknown’. A lot of what feels heavy right now traces back to one thing: school. If that piece were settled, so much of this would feel lighter.

I didn’t expect how much mental energy would go to tiny decisions.
What time places close. Which route is faster. And whether Google Maps is lying to you again. (Spoiler alert: it is.) You eventually learn the faster routes on your own, usually by accident, after committing too hard to the wrong one. None of these decisions are difficult on their own. Together, though, they quietly ask more of you than you’re used to.

I didn’t expect how much bureaucracy would touch everything.
Paperwork here isn’t just paperwork. It’s timing, sequence, and waiting, and then timing again and more waiting. It’s being told to call one place, then another, then come back later. I knew this in theory – I thought I mentally prepared myself for it. But, I didn’t expect the current stress to funnel directly through the bureaucratic processes. Take the school situation, for example. Once that’s resolved, I’m fairly certain a lot of the noise will soften (fingers crossed).

I didn’t expect how my version of loneliness would change.
It’s not about people. And that’s not to say I don’t miss my people. I miss them dearly. All. The. Time. But technology exists, and that makes this part more bearable than it would’ve been years ago. What I miss most are specific freedoms: driving with music blasting, sitting alone in my car, being in my backyard with music and my thoughts at the end of the day. This kind of loneliness is less about absence and more about learning what replaces the spaces that used to be mine. I am confident I’ll find those spaces in due time.

I didn’t expect how grounding small connections would feel.
Last Friday, we met a family from the UK. The wife is from Bologna. Within minutes, she validated so much of what I’ve been feeling – that Bologna can be tough. That patience for expats can be thin. That some of this really is just hard. And then the kids did what kids do. Their younger daughter sat down with mine and started playing Uno. No hesitation. No awkwardness. They just fell into it. Watching that felt like a small exhale I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I, on the other hand, held a full conversation with two other adults, over a beer – THAT was an actual exhale I was very aware I’d been holding it.

I didn’t expect to slowly adjust to Aperitivo.
Back home, by 7 p.m. I was in my cozies, dinner was done, and the day was winding down. Here, that’s when things are just getting started. I only learned two days ago that if you aperitive correctly, you pay for your drink and it comes with little snacks and finger food, included with your drink. But if you show up at 5 p.m., when no one else in the city is aperitive-ing, you will absolutely pay for those nice little snacks and finger foods. (Yes, I know that word is not typically used as a verb. It should be.) You will also be looked at a little funny, until they realize, “Oh. This chick and her kids are missing the memo. That’s okay.” Aperitivo hour: 3 Me: 0

I also didn’t expect the quiet guilt of the bidet.
It’s there. Every time. Just… waiting. I haven’t used it yet, and I feel weirdly bad about that. Like, it knows and it’s judging me in Italian for ignoring it. I make eye contact with it every time I pee. It just sits there, unused, probably feeling jealous at this point.

What I really didn’t expect was this part:
The fact that I can struggle with a lot of stress right now, but still feel less stressed than I did before. I still feel happy to be here. I still don’t want to leave. And, I still want to do everything in my power to make sure we can stay once my schooling is done.

Even on the harder days, this life feels more aligned. Not easier, per se. Just calmer. Less compressed. More honest.

Mostly, I didn’t expect how unfinished this chapter would feel.
Not in a bad way. Just open, but in a good way. There’s no “we’ve arrived” moment yet. A lot is still pending. A lot is still being worked out. But underneath all of it, there’s a steadiness I didn’t have before. And that in itself is a win.

For now, this is what being an expat mom looks like for me.
Not settled. Not stressed in the same way.
Just here. Adjusting daily. And, above all, still choosing this.