My husband and I finally bought our dream house this year. The funny thing is, we didn’t even realize it at the time. We thought we were making a practical decision in response to my husband’s chronic health problems. No, we didn’t buy the large house with the amazing yard in the right school district. That was the house we sold. The one we bought is, well, different.
You see the differences right away. The old house had spacious rooms, floor to ceiling windows, French doors, a giant deck, a huge double sided hearth. People looked at me differently, for better or for worse, when they saw where I lived. That house made a statement.
And the decorating in my dream house? Let’s just say that the original owner was a little misguided. So were all the other people who have lived in the house during last 30 years without updating anything. First we have the memorable orange bathrooms with glitter embedded in the sinks. Then we have the pink walls, turquoise carpet, and cactus themed wallpaper border. And don’t forget all those groovy 1970s architectural angles. I spent my first week here humming the theme song to the Brady Brunch. But crazy as it sounds, I’m discovering that I like it. No, I don’t especially like the southwest décor gone wrong. But I love that I have zero investment in the house as showpiece. I don’t worry what the children—mine or anyone else’s—might do to damage it. And not caring has made me aware that before I was, at least occasionally, putting things ahead of relationships.
I also love that this house gives me the freedom to dream. The old house screamed for elaborate materials and presentation. When we wanted to take the white carpet out of the eating area, we couldn’t replace it with simple laminate. How would that look next to hardwood in the kitchen and custom tile work around the fireplace? Our home was an investment, and to personalize it with anything that might take away from resale value felt irresponsible. This house is small and simple enough that whatever we might change is an improvement. My husband and I can stroll through Home Depot and plan weekend projects with impunity. None of them will break the bank, and there is no image to do harm to.
I feel guilty saying this, but it’s also a relief to not live in the right part of town anymore. The people I met there, even at church, often started conversations by asking how large my house was, and then before I could even answer, telling me about their own. I had trouble setting up play dates for my children. The other mothers were all nice enough, but they were far too busy with lessons and structured activities to spend time playing. In fact, families in that neighborhood were too busy for much of anything. When we moved out, after living there for over two years and serving actively in many capacities, we had to bring ward members from our new, much smaller ward back with us to help load the truck, because the old ward members wouldn’t help. “What? Won’t your job move you?” asked the single longsuffering Elder’s Quorum representative who stopped by for an hour.
I could go on. Our new house is about 1200 square feet smaller than the old one. When I stop to think about it, those numbers amaze me. That’s larger than the entire starter home we purchased as newlyweds, a whole house worth of extra carpet to vacuum and air to heat and cool that has been eliminated. So far we aren’t missing it. We still have four bedrooms and three bathrooms between the seven of us—plenty of room for a large family.
The same is true of the yard. We no longer have half an acre of park-like grounds. We also no longer have an adjoining 1.5 acres for garden space. But we do have time as a family, singing hymns while Don plays his guitar or riding our bikes through the neighborhood. By the time Don commuted home and finished with the yard work at the old house he didn’t have any more time or energy for those things.
And that’s the heart of it. Time and energy. Where do they go? When we decided to move, we thought that if Don’s health improved we would someday buy a larger house in the country again. Now I’m not so sure. When I look around my pink and green kitchen, I’m realizing that it makes a statement too. And maybe it’s time for my dream to change.
Loved this post Angie. I am starting to love my little non-dream home more and more everyday.
Forgive my roughness but speaking on behalf of all the overworked and underappreciated Elders’ Quorums churchwide, I would probably agree with your old Elders’ Quorum president. With five children to help you as well as the profit you received from the sale of your very large old house, you could not afford to hire movers? The moving service offered by the quorum is so overabused. It is really meant for the poor and widows; the single moms and unfortunate families. Too many members consider it a free resource for all.
But I am glad you found happiness in downsizing. My parents raise four children in a 1,300 square foot split level with three bedrooms and one bathroom.
Actually, we really needed the help, Michael. As I said, my husband has been sick, and the initial downsizing was neccessary because of his pysical limitations and medical bills. Also, my five daughters are all under the age of nine and aren’t much good for moving furniture. It was interesting to not have more offers of help though, because Don was one of the few who faithfully helped every time there was a move in the old ward–even though sometimes the exertion landed him in bed for a few days. But the struggle on the leaving end made it that much more moving to feel the love and service offered by our new ward, who didn’t take time to ask questions before they jumped in to help us. And they have continued to welcome us in the same way. One of the men who moved us in VOLUNTEERED to be our home teacher, just to make sure they didn’t miss a month in visiting us. And I have received piles of welcome treats, phone calls to make sure I know about upcoming activities, hugs in the hallways etc. I keep asking myself what the difference is. I believe that part of it in this case is that many people in our old area were wrapped up in the things of the world. I don’t believe that material wealth always has to close hearts, nor that poverty neccessarily opens them, but I am beginning to think there is something to that scripture about the camel and the needle.
Your disappointment in the old ward sounds very warranted. I am glad the new ward came through. I have learned that the personality of each ward can be so very different. And I wholeheartedly agree with you on the camel and the needle parable. Riches can contaminate the soul unless you are strongly focused on following the Saviour. I have seen whole wards affected with such closed hearts.
The idea that you can become trapped by your posessions is sooo true. An article in the Ensign a few years back still haunts me. It talked about all our stuff, and how all that stuff requires us to maintain, clean, store, care for, worry over, and use all of it. It robs our time, our resources, and our energy.
I get that article out every once in a while and it motivates me to get rid of ever more. It also has reminded me to stop buying so much.
The truth of it is, our house is just a place of shelter. If my 40 year old stove works, it doesn’t need to be replaced just for vanity’s sake. If our home is clean, maintain-able, and holds the Spirit within its walls, nothing else is needed.
I am so disgusted by the commercials I hear on the radio that start their pitch with “You deserve”, or “Why Wait?” Just because I try to be a good person doesn’t mean I deserve granite countertops. Really.
Great post. Thanks for sharing your thoughts–they helped me. Perspective is so important–I often find myself thinking, “What ARE the dreams of my heart? Is that what I am spending my time and energy on?” (By the way, I’m raising 7 children in 1100 square feet–3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom–and I’m coming to realize that it has been much more of a blessing than a trial!)
We had people from my husband’s job import kids to our neighborhood on Halloween, so they could trick or treat. I asked what Halloween was like in their neighborhoods, and they just rolled their eyes. “Nobody tricks or treats, because we don’t have any kids. Of course, we do live in Kingsmill”, which is the fancy schmancy yes it’s been called the “snob-hill” of our area. One mother even said that she regretted not considering how the neighborhood would affect her child’s social life, and she’s desperately trying to get me to be friends with her son so he’ll have somebody to play with. They definitely had a feel like they were out “slumming” in our neighborhood (which is the nicest I’ve ever lived in, and is truly our dream house), and yet I had to smile that they all realized how hard it was on their kids to live in a mansion. Suddenly my neighborhood felt like a vast kingdom, and my house a palace, 80s wallpaper and all.
I loved your post and your new perspective. Perfect for November, Thanksgiving, & gratitude. It is a beautiful moment when potentially unpleasant situations are transformed by simple gratitude. It makes life bearable and even beautiful.
And yes, yes, yes! We spent the whole summer living in Residence Inn with only our suitcases. Guess what? We were just as happy in 700 square feet as we had been in 3100. And not having any “stuff” was liberating. And having someone else clean was annoying. Now I scrub my own toilets gratefully.
Congrats on your beautiful dream home, I wish you health and happiness there!
Angie, thought you’d like to know that your post was so inspirational to me, in my big ‘ole house, that I am going through yet another decluttering phase and trying to get my dear friends to do the same. We’re getting ready to throw a party- seriously- of decluttering.
Cara and I have decided to call it a “Blessing or Burden” party– bring those things that have become a burden in your home, and others can choose if there is anything among them which would be a blessing… being careful not to take home additional clutter burdens, of course. Then, whatever is not of use to those in the ward, (we’re getting a list of “looking for these items from Bishop) we’re going to take over to the local shelters to Bless The World, flylady style.
We have so much stuff. All of us here in North America, regardless of how we attempt decluttering or feel we have not enough, have sooooo much stuff. I’m often amazed by the sheer volume in my own family. I remember when we moved into our house in Oregon, I couldn’t imagine we would ever have enough furniture to make it look filled…. then within a few years I had to go on a voluntary “furniture restriciton” (ha ha) and start getting rid of pieces I didn’t need or use. Some women have a problem with shoes and clothes, I have issues with pretty books and sturdy shaker design furniture.
When we moved a year ago, we left just about all the furniture behind, keeping our queen mattress, our couch, a hutch, and a few odds and ends, giving away all the yucky dressers, child worn things, etc. When we bought our home here, I again thought there was no way we’d clutter it up… and yet it is a continual struggle to declutter. Granted, there’s a lot of closet space taken up with food storage and whatnot… but people would walk into our barren space and immediately declare they had a couch for us, another table, etc. Almost as if they wanted to store thier own clutter in our home instead. Too good to get rid of, not important enough to them to keep.
It made me start to evaluate the things in my house more… which kitchen implements, which books, which clothes and toys and nick-nacks are unimportant to me, and who could use them… not as a burden to dust and move about, but as a blessing.
And, Michael, if more folks would jsut get rid of the clutter, those Elder’s Q moves would go so much more smoothly!!!
I remember one move where the “helping” showed up, and the home owners hadn’t even started packing yet. And it was wall to wall clutter. (Felicia, remember the “moving letter you had to draft once about “helping ward members to develop self sufficiency”) ARGH!!!
(but I love helping folks move. I’m so voyeuristic. Ask Darlene, I wandered all over her house trying to figure her out…..)
My husband and I just bought our first house a year ago. I have loved and felt pressed to acquire the necessities that make the space functional and beautiful. I have enjoyed building shelves, replacing flooring, decorating the rooms, buying furniture. My husband has always wanted to work overseas and I have feared that once I had my own house, I would not want to let it go. However, as much as I have loved the process of acquisition, I look forward to getting rid of all of those necessary and unnecessary items that go into maintaining a home. Sometimes, I need a reminder that my well-beloved bookshelves and dining tables are less important than learning how to give them up.
I really enjoyed this, Angie. I have a big house that I am still feeling guilty for owning. (My husband doesn’t think it’s as big as I do, since he grew up with a big house.) It’s a long story about how we came to buy it, but I fantasize about smaller houses sometimes. . .
I have to say, after my years of service as Elders’ Quorum President’s wife, that I disagree strongly with you, Michael. It was hard for me to see R head off to move yet another family BUT I think that one of the problems with the church in Utah is that wards don’t act like families here. I think wards should take advantage of every opportunity to serve each other, even when it doesn’t seem like the service is needed. It’s the only way we grow closer, and become more like Zion. We’ve GOT to serve and be served, without judgment or hesitation.
Thanks for a GREAT article reminding us of what really matters, Angie! Keeping up with the “Smiths” is not for me, either.
We recently moved back to a ward we had been in previously for that same reason: real people with real problems, sharing and friendshipping together. What a difference it makes! No one has pretenses, and I love it! I call this ward quirky, but loveable.
Updating bookmarks.. things look different than I remember. I have so many to go through. And now I have some more ideas for my site too. I’m keeping this bookmark.
Paul
I love this post on many levels. I work with the sisters in my ward now and - while they are wonderful - I often find it interesting that they can’t serve another because they are caught in the thick of thin things (a redecorating project, kid lessons, etc.)
I certainly have my own thin things I wallow around in, so I hope that didn’t sound conceited. It’s just something I’m noticing more lately being on another side of service (coordinating rather than performing.)
I remember living such a good life in this rat dive of a home we had. It was tiny, but I had so much more time left over to serve and do things with my family. It was so ugly it couldn’t be helped, so I didn’t stress over it after a while - no amount of decorating was going to save it. Thank you for the reminder of those good times.