In late fall 2012 we found out we were expecting boy/girl twins. It was an exhilarating, magical time. Downsizing wasn’t even on our radar.
We wanted to move up. Before long we’d learn why small houses can actually be better than big ones.
The weeks and months of preparing for twice the kids were hectic. There was so much to plan, and time flies when you procrastinate. With twins, the timeline was even tighter — instead of nine months, we had about seven and a half.
That fall we took a hard look at our home: a modest 1,400 square-foot, one-story rambler from the 1940s. Some would call it small or even tiny. We began to talk about what we needed.
A conversation between me and my wife:
“We need at least three bedrooms,” she said.
“What if parents stay with us? Shouldn’t we have four?” I replied.
“Then the master should have an attached bathroom,” she insisted.
“Right — and the kids should have their own bathroom,” I added, picturing an easier life.
“You’re so smart, honey,” I thought I heard, though she likes to remind me about my selective hearing…
Before long we had a wish list that basically described a McMansion: two stories, a finished basement, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a big kitchen — non-negotiable. Square footage had to be about 75% more than what we had, because of all the baby gear, kid stuff, and the things parents hide away.
We found a house that checked every box — in our neighborhood, no less. At the open house the fireplace was lit and the house smelled like cinnamon rolls, courtesy of strategically placed air fresheners. The carpet padding even looked like it came from a sports brand — ideal for a TV room, apparently. After the tour we followed our agent’s advice and wrote the sellers a heartfelt letter. Turns out letters can make a difference.
Our agent really wanted us in that house, and her mortgage-broker friend was pushing hard too. Things started off hopeful: an offer that looked likely and just financing to secure. Then reality hit. Because I’d recently gotten a loan on a rental property, the rules wouldn’t let us count that rental income toward qualifying for a half-million-dollar mortgage until I’d been a landlord for a year. So we didn’t qualify. Frustrating.
We kept looking for something else, but nothing matched that first house. You also can’t plan for babies to arrive in the middle of a closing. We decided to hunker down and stay put, planning to try again a year after the twins were born. Three years later, we’re still in our reasonably sized, well-loved house.
To be fair, bigger homes do have advantages. At some point we’ll need to figure out sleeping arrangements for the twins before they’re around 10 — and I’ll probably be tackling projects to add a third bedroom. One perk of early retirement is having the time to do renovations yourself instead of hiring a contractor.