When the second pink lined appeared on the pregnancy test, the question wasn’t about whether or not we were ready for this baby, but if this one would “stick.” After years of trying, we had reached a point where our age gap maximum had almost been reached. This was literally one of our last months of TTC and then Kira would have been an only child. But as life would have it, this one stuck hard. She stuck so well she didn’t want to come out for three extra weeks. She was so stuck that she didn’t want to come out in the delivery room either.
At the time, we lived in a 970 sqft home in the heart of downtown. The redevelopment district was going through a sort of hipster renaissance. Bars, restaurants, and boutiques were popping up. Streets were starting to get cute nicknames like “SOGO” for anything South of Government street. Our boring little quarterly art snob nights morphed into a magical street party that was so popular, they had to start doing it once a month. The street that was just a few blocks away from us would soon be declared one of the top ten best streets in America!
Not only was our home small and affordable, it was right in the heart of this amazing transformation that I had hoped would happen… but then the second baby we had longed for finally arrived and screwed everything up.
“You are going to need to find a bigger place.” Became the mantra of everyone we knew. I mean, folks I didn’t even think knew were we lived were commenting on it. Soon, Tashina and I began to wonder if we were screwing up our kids. So, when a work opportunity came up that was on the other side of town, we moved away from our beloved downtown home. It certainly wasn’t a “tiny home,” but it was too tiny for us to have two kids in…apparently.
There is this notion as you get older that once you have kids that life is just supposed to grow with your family. Long gone are the days when you just shoved all the kids into one room and called it a day. As our families grow, so do our cars, houses, mortgages, and electric bills. We’ve created a false sense of what we need to be happy and what defines the idea of home. Can I love my kids in a smaller, more affordable and sustainable space?
Yeah, I think we can. Because I see families every day without any home at all, and they still love each other. Why do I need 2,000 sqft for my family? That turned out to be a question that began to follow my wife and me for a long time, until we reached a point where we had to make a decision about what kind of life we really wanted to give our children…oh and we went and had another one. Can three kids, two parents, and a cat live in a smaller house?