My Once Upon A Time Story: Anarchists in Suburbia
Once upon a time, in the year 2001, Steve and I bought this charming little house in Riverside, California. It wasn't always charming, mind you. In fact, it was pretty much a dive when we bought it; but it was a good price, in a rad neighborhood (the Wood Streets area - for those familiar with Riverside) and we set out to transform it into our dream house. It was a 1928 Tudor-style abode with hard wood floors, quirky little built-ins, pretty windows, and great structure/bones.
We put our hearts and souls into that house. We remodeled everything we could. Ripped out the kitchen and put in new counters, a new floor, and new hardware. We painted every room inside and the entire exterior (house and trim). Re-tiled the bathroom, put in a new sink, toilet and hardware. We knocked out a hallway storage closet and used it as the entrance to a staircase we had built that led up to a loft room that we created out of what used to be the "attic," where the high Tudor shaped roof lent itself to such a project. We transformed the garage into a studio apartment by adding a bathroom, carpeting, dry walling, painting, adding French doors...pretty much everything you could need for a quaint little "getaway spot." We re-paved the driveway and put in a charming light post. I worked in the garden EVERY DAY; and that's no joke. I was obsessed with my flowers, bushes and succulents and looked forward to each and every afternoon, when I would get out there and take care of my "babies."
We loved that house and I think it loved us.
And then...we made a hasty decision that will always haunt us (or at least, it will me). We decided (after all of the endless toil, time, trouble and money) that since we had accomplished such a feat and that as the kids were getting bigger and we were slowly growing more cramped, that we needed to move UP. In accordance with my current-day mind set regarding money and stature (meaning, I despise the capitalist system and any lifestyle that puts monetary accumulation as any sort of a priority), I look back at this time with a bit of disappointment in myself. I got so caught up in that "American dream," so to speak (that one must have more, get more, go bigger); that I/we completely lost touch with what we had set out to do in the first place - to make a comfortable, little home that encompassed US.
But alas, that is what we did. We sold the house for a pretty penny (compared to what we had bought it for) and moved to the epitome of Suburban Tract Home-Land, one city away, in Corona, California. Don't get me wrong, at the time we were stoked. We bought this BIG, new, pretty house that looked like EVERY other house in the neighborhood and we reminded ourselves that we wouldn't have annoying little maintenance problems come up like we did with our 1920s-charmer. This was new construction, grandiose, a step up. The kids would be going to brand new schools and everything seemed so fancy.
But lo and behold, it did not take long until everything that we thought we would love soon irked the hell out of us. Why DID we need such a huge place? We had to buy more STUFF just to fill it up (what a waste) and the "newness" that we thought was so cool, slowly took a toll when we started noticing things like the fact that you have to count down which house you are on the street so you don't turn into the wrong driveway; because, well, they all look the SAME. We tried to escape this in a way. Since our neighborhood didn't have an association, there were not "paint color rules" and so we painted the exterior of our house a TOTALLY different, darker shade than all the rest. The neighbors hated it. We felt like such rebels (ha) and we put out a mailbox painted with lowbrow art to replace the blah white one (everyone was already mad at us, so why not?).
We stayed in that cookie-cutter dwelling for two years. Steve was getting into the real estate business at the time and foresaw that the market would not always be the way it was at the time, so we devised a new plan. We sold that house (again for a nice profit) and JUST in the nick of time too (before prices started on their downward spiral) and decided that we would sock away our proceeds and become renters again. We didn't move far though; just a few streets away, actually. This house was closer to the kids' school, so they could walk and it was close to the park; but the "issues" we had with living this hypocritical lifestyle still remained. I dreamed of being in our cozy little Riverside house again, with just the essentials and lots of charm and sunshine streaming through the windows. Ahhhh... the good ol' days.
We trudged along though, making the most of the home and being grateful that the kids went to such awesome schools. Which, in itself, had become a steadfast for remaining in our "Agrestic" (if you watch the TV show Weeds you'll know what I mean). The kids had established relationships and friendships and were getting older and more attached to the community in general. We had pretty much reserved ourselves to the idea that we would be in suburbia until Aidan and Shea graduated from high school and were living on their own (and then we were OUT of here; headed to the big city, to rent a tiny apartment and be complete minimalists - or buy one of these and find some awesome, remote piece of land to put it).
All fine and dandy until last Saturday, on the 4th of July, when we were out to eat as a family, along with Steve's mom, who was down visiting us from Reno. Through a series of conversations that ended up focusing on Riverside, all three kids ended up deciding that they wanted to live there again. WHAT? REALLY? You would leave your friends and schools; and the too-big of house and all of that stuff? REALLY? Yes, they all agreed, they would. Well, Steve and I wasted no time. We got home, hopped onto Craigslist and started searching. It didn't take long to find a delightful home, complete with a pool and we were on the phone setting up an appointment to go and see it. Driving over there on Sunday, I felt this new sense of excitement. Cruising up the road that I had traveled on thousands of time before, I felt that comforting "at-home" kind of feeling. This would mean that the three munchkins would go to, and graduate from, the high school that I went too. Woah, so awesome. I could hardly wait to start packing our belongings up. We loved the tour and went home to get the kids so they could see it. They were a bit taken aback, I could tell. It was all happening very quickly and I am pretty sure they thought that their parents were a little loopy with enthusiasm. But off we went. And THEN .... screeeeeeeeeeeeching HALT! "Woah, you mean we might REALLY move?" Oh man, the reality hit and it hit hard. They were curious and at the same time, suddenly VERY apprehensive. No doubt, Steve and I moved fast. We saw the opportunity to escape "cookie cutter land" and we TOOK IT!
The next few days were filled with lengthy discussions and a lot of pro-con weighing lists. We understand the dilemma through our kids eyes. We really do. But STILL, it was so exciting to think, for just a fleeting time, that we might in a sense, make up for a mistake we regret making many years ago and get back to our "roots" - back to simplicity. After listening and battling through some disappointment, it appears that we ultimately are staying put.
Parents = 2, Kids = 3.
Damn! 6 more years of this...
Thursday, July 9, 2009 at 2:26PM
Reader Comments (7)
I could not have described it any better. It is crazy to think that our house now is 3 times the size of our old one. WTF.
Born, Work, Consume, Work, Consume, Get Sick, Die. Life in Capitalist America.
Love you Jinxi.
This is crazy, when I saw your wife swap episode, and saw you guys out in front of your house, the first thing I thought was: "little boxes..." from Weeds. Funny.
Also, I knew the guy who (supposedly) made the first 'batch' of those Tumbleweed houses. I want to get one for myself someday. Being as there would be no wife or children, I think I could hack it...somewhere remote. But that's wishful thinking.
You sure no how to tell a great story Jinxi!
I agree with Steve on the 'born, work, consume...die' concept, ugh!
The pictures of your house bring back so many memories! I loved seeing you in that house, and I know that you both really loved being there. I remember so much about every room, and just seeing the pictures brings back a wonderful part of our lives. You are such an amazing writer! Thanks for just being you!!!
Awww, I'm sorry you can't get that adorable 1920's house back. I absolutely love the old style houses, they are so quaint & pretty. The way you said, sunlight streaming through the windows...that is my type of house too!
I hope you can get back to that simple life again. Oh, and about that tiny house thing, Michael & I lived in a house that tiny. We had one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, a tiny kitchen, & a basic living room. All the closets were in the hallway.
It was nice at first but then it became so cramped, we felt like we were going crazy, in a cage. So now we're in a 1950's house, and it is dreamland for us. We have a nice back porch, that is closed in on one side with lattice. We sit out there just listening to the birds & or crickets, & cicadas and talk. It is paradise.
We drive by the fancy, big houses around town, and I always say, that is just too much house for me. I wouldn't know what to do with all those rooms. :)
Just know, as long as you have your loved ones, you can be happy where you are.
Jinx
I LOVE THIS POST!
I didn't know you guys owned such an adorable cool-ass tudor! You will again, one day, sooner than you think, be in a space you once again adore.
You rock- I love this story so much.
xoxoxo Reesa
This is the most amazing post Jinxi!
I haven't gotten so emotionally caught up in a blog post in a very long time. Heck, I even felt a little tear almost come to my eye a couple of times while reading it.
Simplicity is a beautiful dream, and I have always found it odd that it can be so difficult to achieve.
xo-
Shay
Great post. Affluenza is contagious! Ugh. I'm trying to simplify my own life (and possessions, duh!) as much as I can. Clothes and knicknacks? I can take 'em or leave 'em. Now, books? Yikes. I'm kind of drowning in them. :-)
The Tumbleweed homes are amazing! I had not heard of them before; thanks for clueing me in!