Uprooting to Milan: Our Family’s Move for a Job Transfer

I didn’t realize how loud wisteria could be until we moved to Milan in spring. The blooming vines drape over courtyards and balconies, buzzing with bees and neighbors catching up after winter. We arrived with two kids, five suitcases, a job transfer for Mark, and a jumble of nerves that felt louder than any city tram. Now, a few weeks in, we’re starting to hear the softer notes—morning cappuccinos, playground giggles, and the click of a new routine settling into place.

Visas in Real Life (and in the Waiting Room)

Our relocation started with spreadsheets and ended with stamps. Mark’s company handled his Italian work authorization, but getting the rest of us here required our own stack of paperwork.

We’re non-EU, so we applied for dependent visas (family reasons) at the Italian consulate back home. Mark’s employer helped secure the nulla osta (authorization) for family reunification. That little piece of paper, plus apostilled marriage and birth certificates and proof of housing, unlocked the next step: our visas. It wasn’t fast—think months, not weeks—but we learned to love a good checklist and a three-hole punch.

When we landed, the clock started—within eight days, we needed to apply for our permesso di soggiorno (residence permit) using the post office kit. We filled forms, bought a marca da bollo (tax stamp), and waited for our fingerprinting appointment at the Questura. The receipt you get from the post office is gold; it functions as a temporary permit until the real one arrives. Pro tip: pack multiple copies of every document you think you might need. Then pack two more.

With our paperwork in motion, we could request our codice fiscale (tax code)—essential for renting an apartment, signing phone contracts, and generally existing. Once we had the Permesso receipt, we registered for healthcare. Our local ASL office helped us pick a pediatrician, who (small miracle) had availability within a reasonable distance of our new place. For the first months, we kept our private international coverage as well, just for peace of mind.

Where We Landed (and Why We Didn’t Choose the Navigli)

We toured neighborhoods with the attention of people shopping for a life. Milan is full of distinct pockets:

• CityLife: gorgeous park, car-free streets, and kid heaven—also high rents and waiting lists for everything from parking to pediatrics.
• Città Studi/Lambrate: leafy, quieter, more budget-friendly, with playgrounds and student energy.
• Sempione/Magenta: charming, elegant, handy to Parco Sempione (our kids fell in love with the castle and the playgrounds).
• Porta Romana: residential vibe, yellow metro line, local markets, and good access to the center without being in the thick of it.
• Navigli: stunning canals and lively aperitivo scene—we loved visiting but decided night noise and weekend crowds weren’t a fit for bedtime routines.

We ended up in Porta Romana in a two-bedroom near the M3. We wanted walkability, a short commute for Mark, and a nearby park—plus a building with an elevator and a portinaia who would look out for our packages and occasionally remind us which bottles go in which recycling bins. Rent wasn’t cheap (Milan isn’t), and we learned to factor in spese condominiali (building fees) and a two-month deposit, plus agency fees. We also learned to ask if a “furnished” kitchen includes an oven—do not assume.

We signed on a 4+4 contract and celebrated with our first proper aperitivo: spritz for us, little sandwiches and olives for the kids, and a mental high-five for making a decision that felt both practical and a little romantic.

School: Finding a Place Our Kids Could Land

Our children are in that sweet-and-complicated stage: one in early elementary, one preschooler. We debated the international route versus the Italian public system. International schools (we toured the American School of Milan, the British School of Milan, and the International School of Milan) offer continuity and language support, but they’re expensive and often have waitlists. Applications asked for transcripts and teacher recommendations—a new experience for us with such young kids.

The Italian schools are tuition-free and integrated into community life, with “mensa” lunches, neighborhood classmates, and routines that felt beautifully grounded. But the language transition would be steep for our older child in the short term, and timing mattered.

We landed on a hybrid: our older child started at a bilingual international program with robust Italian lessons, and our younger joined a local scuola dell’infanzia once we had our residence paperwork underway. The first day, our youngest came home with a construction-paper colomba (the dove-shaped Easter cake) covered in glitter. Our oldest, meanwhile, learned to say “posso giocare?” on the playground and suddenly had three new friends who orbit the swings like they’re mission control.

It helped to visit during spring open days when schools felt most welcoming. Admissions teams were frank about waitlists and honest about transitions. If you’re considering Milan, reach out to schools early; some fill seats months in advance.

Building a Daily Rhythm: Trams, Markets, and WhatsApp

Mark’s office is in the center, and the metro made commuting surprisingly painless. Our kids ride free when they’re with us, and frankly, the trams are half the entertainment. We learned to fold the stroller fast and to stand clear when doors snap shut like punctuation marks.

Groceries became a ritual: the Saturday market for produce and fresh flowers, Esselunga for everything heavy, and the neighborhood bakery for bread that actually makes you want to eat the crusts. Spring brought out the artichokes and strawberries; our kids learned to collect the little printed sticker after weighing fruit at the self-serve scale—a small task that made them feel very big.

Milan runs on WhatsApp. Our building has a condominio group, our street has a neighbors’ group (someone is always giving away a plant or selling a kid’s bike), and the school parent chat is where one learns about class parties, library days, and the exact shade of blue required for a field-trip t-shirt. We also joined a couple of expat Facebook groups and found a weekly park meetup. Within three weeks, we had a birthday invitation, and I found myself icing cupcakes in a rented kitchen with metric measuring cups and a prayer.

Healthcare: The Reassurance of a Pediatrician Who Knows Your Kid

After registering with the SSN, we chose a pediatrician nearby. Appointments for routine things were available within a week or two; for urgent issues, the local guardia medica and the pediatric emergency department at Buzzi gave us comfort. Pharmacies are everywhere (follow the green cross), and pharmacists are wonderfully practical—bring the permesso receipt and codice fiscale the first time. We kept private coverage in those early weeks, and it took the edge off while we waited for final cards and numbers to arrive.

Language, Customs, and the Small Wins

We signed up for Italian classes and now compete over who mispronounces gnocchi less. We say buongiorno in the elevator. We learned that “orario di silenzio” matters and that dragging chairs across the floor at 11 p.m. is a faux pas that travels through old ceilings like thunder.

A few cultural notes that helped:

• Greet people when you enter small shops, and say grazie on the way out—even if you didn’t buy anything.
• Aperitivo starts early; kids are welcome; it’s more snack than dinner, but sometimes it becomes dinner anyway.
• Heating season officially winds down in April, and you’ll feel it—bring sweaters for those lingering cool evenings.
• Spring holidays matter: Pasqua and Pasquetta quiet the city, and April 25 (Festa della Liberazione) fills squares with music and flags. This week, our street hung banners; our kids asked questions; we had a conversation about history over gelato.

Costs and Honest Trade-Offs

Milan can be pricey. Our rent is higher than we expected; groceries are reasonable if you lean into seasonal produce and local markets; eating out adds up unless you embrace the trattoria lunch special. Public transport is worth every euro compared to driving and parking within Area C. We share a car through a car-sharing app for weekend escapes—Lake Como in spring is as close to a reset button as we’ve found.

There were moments it felt like too much: the permesso appointment that overlapped with a school tour, the delivery window that stretched into evening, the first week our youngest refused to go back to school. But even on rough days, there was the consolation of a small thing—fresh peas at the market, a tram driver who waited for us, the neighbor who carried our stroller up the steps without asking for thanks.

Finding Community

We met people the old-fashioned way: parks, school gates, and asking questions. Our parish’s oratorio runs weekend activities and opened a door into local life. We joined a small English-Italian playgroup and a parent-and-toddler music class at a community center. When Salone del Mobile took over the city this month, we rode our bikes to a design installation where our kids colored at a pop-up table while we chatted with a couple who’d moved from Puglia. New city, same parent conversation: sleep schedules, favorite playgrounds, and where to find the best pizza that welcomes loud little humans. (Our current top pick is the place that hands our kids dough to play with while we wait.)

If You’re Considering the Same Move

• Start with visas early, especially apostilles and translations. Make a “document binder” that travels in your carry-on.
• When apartment hunting, ask about building fees, heating (central or independent), and whether the kitchen is actually installed.
• Tour multiple schools if you can. If international tuition is a stretch, explore bilingual public options and language support—Milan has more than we expected.
• Register for healthcare as soon as your paperwork allows, and get to know your local pharmacy.
• Learn enough Italian to be polite and a little more each week. People notice the effort.
• Use spring to your advantage: neighborhood festivals, outdoor markets, and long playground afternoons are an easy way to meet people.

We’re still new here. But this morning, on the way to school, our oldest pointed out the glicine draping an old gate and said, “It smells like purple.” I breathed in and understood exactly what they meant. Milan in spring is both noisy and gentle, a place that makes room for the complicated feelings of moving while offering something beautiful to hold onto.

Best wishes from Milan,