We tore apart my in-laws’ home.

A three-bedroom, two-bath ranch farmhouse that my in-laws chose, designed and built in the late 80’s. They raised their three sons and built a legacy here: A third [and a-half] generation farm operation. Nights were spent worrying about crops, kids, and livestock. Meals were prepared, tables were set, and surrounded by people they loved. Holidays were shared with a generation I never had the chance to meet. Wallpaper border was tediously applied, paint colors were carefully selected, and carpet samples were vetted to withstand the farm life and intensity of three rambunctious boys. Floors were paced and scrubbed. Scrubbed and Paced.

And here I was 30-ish years later, ready to tear it apart.

I had wondered if maybe someday our journey would lead us to live here, but figured that was 20+ years away… My kids would be off on their own; Trent and I would build something close to the farm when/if his dad would opt to slow down. [If you know an Iowa farmer, you know that will likely never happen.]

But in April of 2022, Trent came home and asked what I thought about moving from town to the farm [his parents’ home]. I haphazardly responded, “Yeah, someday”.

“What about now?”

“Huh?” I set down the spoon I was using to stir the pasta boiling on the stove.

“Mom and Dad are ready to move into town. They’ll be moving in a couple of months. They purchased a pre-fab model home- it’s already built so it will be dropped in the next month or so and they plan to be there by the end of June.”

It’s already built? A couple months?!?! WHAT? I panicked. My mind raced. I had moved 20+ times in my life counting the college-era moves.

1. Iowa to Philippines.
2. Philippines to 2nd base in Philippines
3. 2nd base in Phillippines to California
4. California to Iowa
5. Iowa to Guam
6. Guam to Japan
7. Japan to 2nd house in Japan
8. Japan to Iowa
9. Iowa to Illinois
10. Illinois to Iowa
11. Iowa to 1st dorm room
12. 1st dorm to 2nd dorm room.
13. 2nd dorm room to 3rd dorm room
14. 3rd dorm room parent’s house
15. parent’s house to apartment
16. apartment to 2nd apartment
17. 2nd apartment to townhouse
18. townhouse to in-laws’ basement
19. in-laws’ basement to 1st married apartment
20. 1st married apartment to 2nd married apartment
21. 2nd married apartment to rental house
22. rental house to 2nd rental house
23. 2nd rental house to 1st purchased home
24. 1st purchased home to 2nd purchased home

….. that was supposed to be IT!

I could pack my belongings faster than you could pack your lunch- BUT- I was so, so DONE with that. I had said more than once that I was going to DIE in that house.

We bought our home to be our forever home- it was perfect! A Navy blue ranch with white shutters. A large corner lot, with enough bedrooms and living spaces for our family and pets. We were a short 1 block walk from the Elementary and High School. I dreamt about walking to and from Friday night football games with my kids’ friends coming over afterwards to raid my pantry and hang out. I loved every bit of my kids riding their bikes to their friends’ houses in town. And to the pool. To the library. To school. I enjoyed walking a few blocks to the coffee shop while pushing the stroller or with Apollo at my side. I enjoyed talking gardens and sharing veggies with our neighbors- neighbors who would put our packages in our garage if it was raining and walk my toddler through their flower beds taking the time to teach them their colors and names. I wasn’t ready to live on an acreage. In the country?! I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“It’s too small! It doesn’t have enough bedrooms. It’s less space than we currently have! I want the kids to be able to play with their friends. I like our neighbors! We can’t. Not yet. We’ve spent years making this place our own- I don’t want to start over!” I froze.

Trent knows me well enough after nearly 15 years of marriage to let me have my panicked moment, scream, cry, and freak out. He knows I’m a planner- a stubborn over-thinker, always prepared for the worst-case-scenario. Rarely do things catch me off-guard and when they do, I don’t react well. 

So he waited silently. He listened. He let me tell him a billion reasons why we weren’t doing this. We couldn’t. We shouldn’t. We can’t. I won’t. Nope.

Then, he said something along the lines of, “This is happening. And it’s going to be better than you can even imagine. We’ll make it our own. I will help you. It’s going to be ok.”

-Listen- 

I joke about Trent’s habit of playing too much golf, leaving crumbs everywhere when he makes a sandwich, leaving muddy footprints across my freshly mopped floors, and overstaying at every party despite my pleading to go home three hours earlier, BUT… he takes good care of me and our family. He’s my rock. My hype-man. So when he says, “We’ll make it our own. I will help you. It’s going to be ok,” well? It just will be. 

It’s not that I didn’t like the bones of the house, it just wasn’t my “style” and I knew the amount of work [and money] that would go into “making it our own”. Painting was fun at 23 with one kid. However, not so fun at 36 with four kids + pets and intense careers. I didn’t have the time, or frankly, the energy to take on another project. 

And if I’m being honest, it just felt “weird” to talk about, let alone to make plans to alter my husband’s childhood home- the same house my in-laws chose. The one they designed, planned, and built because they loved everything about it. Truthfully, I worried it would never feel like “my/our” house and I worried it would hurt their feelings if we changed too many things; a slap in their faces. 

Trent assured me- this was ours, his parents were picking out their new things for their new home, so it was more than ok to do the same for ours. Ever so slowly, I started dreaming a bit. He told me to dream BIG- throw it all out there and we could decide to cut back from there. We’d go out to dinner and discuss. What would we want in our forever home? What works or doesn’t work in our current place? What would make our home more functional or what’s a luxury we wish we could have? We made our lists. I started the spreadsheets to track it all. 

The first obstacle: the layout. Initially, we struggled to figure out how to make it work for our family of 6. The way the house was built meant two of our kids would have basement bedrooms with egress windows. I didn’t love the idea of bedrooms in the basement. I wanted to make sure I could get to the kids FAST those nights they were sick or in case of emergency. So we brainstormed.

Next challenge? Function. The advantage of living in LOTS of houses? Knowing what worked and didn’t work. It was sort of like a game of Tetris trying to place rooms and closets within the space allotted. Could we move that wall? Is that bedroom too small? How wide does a hallway need to be? I pulled out graph paper like a high school geometry student and began sketching our thoughts and designs on paper, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t quite get it the way I wanted it.

Until- one night at dinner somewhere, Trent had this brilliant idea- he grabbed a napkin (yes, actually), and started drawing out a plan we had never considered that kept the bedrooms together by splitting the current master bedroom and turning it into a hallway. Hmmm, maybe this could work. We took the napkin with us to Builder’s Select in Cedar Falls and had their expert draw-up plans. 

Lots of measurements, and a few days later, they sent us blueprints. OMG. It worked. This was going to work! I just needed some help with the things I knew nothing about- like cabinetry, design, and pulling all our ideas for function together.

We looked at several companies to help us with the design of the kitchen and a few other areas in the home and were left discouraged when they told us some ideas weren’t possible- or at least, not ideal. “That doorway is too narrow- you’re not going to like that. The room size was too small, or too long, or too wide. You’re going to want a larger closet. You’ll regret not putting storage in that room…” Everyone had an expert opinion about OUR house, and while I wanted to trust their expertise, I also wanted to be heard and not brushed off. After all, this is the home I would live in, sleep in, cook in, entertain in. I’d place the coffee pot where it made sense to ME. I’d store towels where it made sense to me. I don’t need a closet there- we don’t have that many things to store! I pushed back- as long as I was comfortable with the room size or the width of the door, then I didn’t need to be told that’s not how I should do it.

A good friend in the design industry suggested I reach out to 319 Design in Grundy Center. She thought they’d match my style so after scoping out their Instagram and store, I sent an email and asked if they’d consider taking on our project. 

And the rest is history… From tearing down the first wall to moving in was five months. Five. In the thick of it- it felt like it was taking forever. In hindsight- I can’t believe it only took five months for the transformation!

Katie Lewis and her team at 319 Design listened to me and valued my input. They offered suggestions and options, but also honored my “no” or “that’s not for me”. They were quite literally my hype girls- making me dream even bigger than I had dreamt. Not only did they match my style, they matched my heart. Katie understood function- she is a mom too after all. And she has a gift of delicately, subtly tying in design with function- exactly what I needed.

In the end, we built our dream home with nearly everything on our wishlist. Trent was right, it is truly “better than I could ever imagine.” [But don’t tell him he was right, k? We don’t need him to get a big ego.]

Once complete, Trent told me his mom walked through and said, “Wow, it’s beautiful.” Nothing but praise. No hard feelings. No guilt trip. Complete support and awe.

Photos courtesy: Alexa Karen Photography

They raised their three sons and built a legacy here. And we will raise our four and build ours. Nights will be spent worried about crops and kids. Meals will be prepared, tables will be set, and surrounded by people we love. Holidays will be shared with generations. The wallpaper will be tediously applied (once I can commit to something), paint colors have been carefully selected, and flooring samples vetted to withstand the farm life and intensity of four rambunctious kids and pets. Floors will be paced and scrubbed. Scrubbed and Paced.

And someday, if we’re lucky, one of our kids will tear this place apart to make it their own…

A fun before and after.

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The life I want.