Fresh Mochi, opened in 2022 and owned by artist Elizabeth Jameson, is housed in a former grocery store that is now home to Jameson, her husband, Andy Sodt, and their 15-year-old son, Lee. Their living space consists of the art gallery, a practice space for Sodt’s band in the basement, and an adjacent home, with a window overlooking the gallery.

Caught in pajamas

“One time, a group of firemen walked in to do an inspection, and I was in my pajamas,” laughs Jameson. “They thought the building was a preschool.”

The mix-up was understandable. Shortly after Jameson and Sodt bought the property in 2001, neighborhood kids started wandering in, assuming it was a community space. Jameson began putting out paper and art supplies for them, earning the house the moniker, “The Paint House.”

The Paint House

“The kids would tell their parents that they were going to The Paint House, and they’d come over to hang out and work on art projects,” Jameson says. “When they were done, I would hang up their art in the windows for everyone to see.”

Prior to living there, Jameson and Sodt lived in a small house in West Seattle, and Jameson drove back and forth to a rented art studio in the International District. By day, Sodt is a computer programmer; by night, he is a musician. His bands always practiced in the basement of his residence. When the former DiCasoli corner store went on the market, the two decided it would be perfect for an artist and a musician to have their individual workspaces alongside their home. It was the ideal solution to meld their personal and professional needs, cutting down on financial responsibilities and commute times.

A toddler changed everything

When 2 ½-year-old Lee joined the family in 2009, the function of the space completely changed. Toys were now common installations in the space. Lee began doodling on Jameson’s artwork, prompting the parents to put up a temporary gate while Jameson worked on an upcoming show.

As Lee grew, the space evolved. Tables displayed his LEGO brick creations, and an open space enabled Lee and his friends to let out their energy however they needed.

“There is lots of space for art projects and games like ping-pong,” Lee, now in his late teens, says.  “We have a big kitchen for having weekly pasta nights, where we make homemade pasta. My friends think the open space is cool.”

A home that’s hard to leave

When Lee’s friends were younger, some of them would cry when it came time to go home. And while adult friends don’t cry, they often stay long into the night in the cave-like basement, partying, commiserating, doing karaoke. 

With a large space for creativity and community, however, comes the ordeal of keeping it clean and free of clutter. Before any community events, which have included gallery openings, fundraisers, and fashion shows, Jameson spends hours cleaning and getting the space ready to welcome people. “One challenge I have is vacuuming the whole floor in the studio because it’s so big,” she says.

Sharing space

The family faced another challenge when the old store portion of the house was used as an Airbnb for two years. 

“We were squished into a much smaller space,” Jameson remembers. “It was awkward, and we never really got used to it. We had to be quiet so as not to disturb our guests, which was almost impossible between band practices, squealing, running kids, and our love of karaoke. The guests loved staying in the art gallery-style Airbnb, though!” 

A tool for community building

But the benefits outweigh the work. The space has continued to be a great tool for building community, as it was in its days as The Paint House. During the COVID-19 lockdown, Jameson turned the storefront windows into a gallery for neighbors to enjoy. This experience and the positive responses from passersby reignited Jameson’s excitement for art, so much so that she opened the doors of her studio in March 2022 and Fresh Mochi was born.

“A lot of artists have a hard time finding a space to show their art, so I want to create a space for them here,” Jameson explains. She often collaborates with her neighbors, who also are artists who own a combined storefront and living space, to host events that bring the community together to celebrate and recognize local artists.

Fresh Mochi is open for art show openings and closings, but visitors need to contact Jameson to make appointments to view the gallery outside of these official events. Reach out to elizabeth@ejameson.com.  

Read more:

Where we live: Two families own one home

The post Where we live: Fresh Mochi appeared first on Seattle's Child.

Tight quarters, these parents say, have fostered flexibility and strong family bonds. The 925-square-foot apartment in Renton was supposed to be a temporary arrangement while Cherry pursued an associate degree in nursing, which she earned in 2020. Now, Cherry is working toward a bachelor’s degree in nursing, and that means the family is staying put.

Sleeping Arrangements 

As of this writing, Cherry and Dennis, who asked to keep their last name private, were co-sleeping with 2 ½-year-old Ayvree, who had a few more weeks sharing the bed with just mom and dad before the arrival of baby #4 in February. Older brothers Aydenn (11) and Aaisic (8) share the second bedroom, though Aaisic is also reluctant to leave his parents’ room.

“He’s been struggling the most, so we went to IKEA and said, ‘Let’s just look. If having your own bed makes you excited and want to sleep in your room versus sharing a bed, let’s do that,’” Dennis says.

The family left IKEA with a loft bed that they tucked Aydenn’s bed underneath to maximize space. They decorated the bottom area with lights to create a cozy cave-like feeling.

Though Aaisic loves the new setup, preteen Aydenn is beginning to need more space and independence from his brothers. His parents are sympathetic and try to give him alone time while being realistic about what is doable in their space.

The day-to-day of living small

Cherry says, “I feel like [being in a small space] keeps us really close as a family. Yeah, we fight, but we understand each other. This is their norm.”

Still, as kids do, Aaisic and Aydenn observe and compare their lives with their peers. For example, when classmates were swapping stories about the “Elf on the Shelf,” a Christmas tradition where an elf is hidden in different spots in a house all through December, Dennis and Cherry’s kids wondered if the elf only visited houses and not small apartments like there’s. Though the parents assured their children the elf visits both styles of home, adding that their family simply celebrates Christmas in other ways, Cherry admits, “It breaks our hearts.” 

In terms of the day-to-day, navigating life in a two-bedroom apartment — which doubles as an office space for Dennis, an operations manager who works several days from home — requires constantly juggling needs, organizing spaces, and being flexible.

“My workspace is super messy and not ideal, but it works,” Dennis says. “We have a little gate up, so Ayvree and the dog don’t go in my space.” His workspace ends up as a dumping ground for things that need to be kept safe.

The endless search for space efficiency 

The family has a coveted garage, which gives them a secure parking spot near their unit and extra storage space. They can now move items out of the apartment, but they’ve also accumulated things that they previously didn’t have space for.

In February, when the new baby’s arrival was around the corner, the family went into full nesting mode, reorganizing closets to make space for everything that comes with having a newborn. The boys were tasked with organizing their toys and purging clothes. “I want to reorganize things,” said Dennis. “To be more efficient with the space, trying to find better storage solutions —”

 “— which will only last for a little bit before the boys will destroy it,” Cherry finished the thought.

Facing the challenges

Cherry and Dennis say there are a lot of challenges for a large family living in a tight space, but they are quick to list the benefits as well. Renting an apartment is more convenient and affordable than purchasing a house. It has given them financial flexibility to afford sports and extracurricular activities for their kids, as well as outings and vacations.

“Also, if something breaks, someone else fixes it,” Dennis says. “I hear [from] our friends who are homeowners and have issues with their plumbing or foundation. I don’t want to deal with that yet.”

And they are not alone in facing the challenges. A family nearby includes five people sharing a small apartment. The two families have grown closer over recent years, helping each other with needs like school pickups. Most recently, when Cherry and Dennis’ dryer broke, the other family offered the use of their dryer — and even folded the laundry. The apartment manager also gave Cherry and Dennis access to the dryer in an empty apartment.

“It’s little gestures like that that have gotten us through,” Cherry says.  

Read More:

Dad Next Door: ‘Lip-Gloss-Gate’

Zero-waste store will help you without making you feel guilty

5 easy green living tips for families

The post Where we live: Small space, big family appeared first on Seattle's Child.

Is this Mayberry?

Wolf shares her 900-square-foot duplex with her husband, Chuck Harrison, and 7-year-old son, Jamie. And her description of her family’s community sounds downright Mayberry: Picture some neighbors chatting from their idyllic porches while others tend their gardens nearby. And the best part of living in the Duwamish Cohousing Community in West Seattle? Isolated as a community, the residents were able to socialize during the COVID lockdown.

Built-in community helps in challenging times

Wolf is convinced the community felt less of the pandemic sting because each home has a porch and a garden, close enough together to stay connected and feel supported during those hard months but spaced out enough for social distancing. It was easy to chat with neighbors while still staying safe. 

The desire to build community is at the heart of the co-housing development, and that goal is reflected in its design. The 23 multi-house units all face one another, their windows looking toward their neighbors’ rather than outside the community. 

The Common House

A central part of this co-housing development is its ‘common house.’ The larger community-owned home functions as a shared space for everyone who lives in the development and their guests. At the same time, Wolf’s living room, like all individual homes at Duwamish Cohousing, is small — designed to encourage families to spend more time in the common house. When Wolf’s family members or others visit, she opts to use the common house so her family can enjoy their guests in a larger space. 

Lots of room to roam

What’s it like living in such a confined space with a young child?

Wolf and Harrison have found ways to maximize the family’s relatively tight quarters. By installing a secure net on the loft level of their home, they essentially created another story where their son can hang out. And while having an energetic 7-year-old may deter some parents from moving into a small home, Wolf says one of the many perks of her co-housing community is the relatively enclosed parameters. She doesn’t fear fast cars or her son wandering too far. A wetland lines the community on one side, so he can’t go far in that direction. 

‘It’s kind of like having cousins’

There are several children at Duwamish Cohousing. A big benefit of community living is having playmates right next door. As Wolf puts it: “There are different kids from the community they can play with. It’s kind of like having cousins.” 

Wolf also feels safer parenting in a closed community where the houses face each other. The structure encourages community, which means multiple sets of eyes are on Jamie as he wanders the communal areas. When adults are not outside, when the mood strikes him, he will check in on his neighbors by knocking on their doors. 

Sure, conflicts happen

Like any close-knit relationship, the community is not without its conflicts and hurdles. Wolf would not put a lack of space between neighbors on a list of co-housing cons. But she admits that if there are neighbors who aren’t getting along, there’s no place to hide in a co-housing community. 

When issues do arise, however,  members of the community often come together. Especially when it comes to making a decision about their property. For example, the homeowners association (HOA) fees feed into the shared aspects of the property, such as the common house. Similar to a condominium, the owners are responsible for what is inside the walls of each house, while the HOA takes care of the grounds and the outside of each building. This means deciding how the HOA fees are distributed and used are community decisions. 

Consensus model of decision-making

“We don’t have a management company that runs it,” says Wolf. “We all run it together. We’re all members of the board. We all make decisions with the consensus model, which can take a long time to do. It takes a lot of communication. We all attend the board meetings every month, and there are committee meetings.” 

A major hit to the community during the pandemic was the loss of community dining in the common house, gatherings that are central in many co-housing communities. Thankfully, Wolf says, Duwamish Cohousing households are slowly returning to regular, shared meals. 

Finding new ways to support each other

Wolf wants to see more shared child care among her community members as Duwamish moves forward into the future. In fact, homeowner families are working on a rotating child care plan to allow parents to enjoy regular date nights. Jamie has a disability, which Wolf says discourages her from relying on other parents to babysit as much as she would like. But she remains hopeful for the future. 

As it stands, members of this co-housing community are leaning on one another and discovering they have most of their community needs met.  

Read more:

Dad Next Door: ‘Lip-Gloss-Gate’

Where we live: Buying our first home with ARCH

Legislature says ‘YES’ to Narcan in all public schools

The post Where we live: A circle of neighbors appeared first on Seattle's Child.

Greg is married to Tiffany and has two kids and usually played Thieves with his wife until that point. So, in a natural progression of their friendship, Greg introduced Dusty to Tiffany. 

An unconventional decision

This is where the story becomes slightly less conventional: Tiffany and Dusty really hit it off. Eventually, they and Greg agreed to enter into a polyamorous relationship and become a polycule: Three or more people connected romantically. 

Dusty became Tiffany’s romantic partner while Tiffany remained married to Greg. Dusty, his wife April, and their two kids moved to Washington from the California Bay area to nurture and support the polycule. 

How it works

Logistically, there are two primary residences in this polycule. The couples shuttle between the homes. That means, at times, Tiffany and Greg spend the evening cooking together at the Nances’ house in Issaquah. At other times, Dusty and Tiffany spend time together at the Walls’ house in Tacoma. You will also find Greg spending time with his romantic partner Tasha Trembath, at the Nances’ house. 

Greg and Trembath met in 2021. In private practice as a marriage and family therapist, Trembath currently lives in the Nance house. Following her and Greg’s decision to extend the polycule and in the midst of skyrocketing housing costs, Trembath moved in last year. 

Greg describes the two-family polycule in two words: “Beautiful chaos.” The families share multiple calendars to track all the kids’ various activities, including sports practices, dance, and saxophone lessons. The calendars include the adult responsible for pickup on any given day. 

How parenting works

The Nance children include 12-year-old Kat and 7-year-old Reyna, while the Wall children include 12-year-old Jamie and 14-year-old Moo. Each adult member of the polycule participates in parenting in a symphony of coordination.

Like any parents or guardians, they rely on each other and show up to as many of the childrens’ extracurricular activities as possible. The Nance children sleep at the Nance house while the Wall children sleep at the Wall house, although they occasionally hold joint family sleepovers. Trembath attends as many activities as her schedule allows and is fully incorporated into the family. 

Beyond attending events, all adults also participate in parenting the children: “Our kids are lucky and have a lot of parents in their ears all the time,” says Greg.

Dusty says one of his favorite aspects of the polycule is the four kids spending time together. The families get together as much as possible for activities such as mini golf. The five adults of the polycule enthusiastically nod their heads when they collectively list the various sporting events, concerts, and recitals where the children will show up to support one another. 

What the kids say

When the parents broke the news to the children, the children surprisingly didn’t have much to say. Greg credits their reaction primarily to the straightforward way the adults navigated the conversation: 

“I think a big part of that is not ever having sat the kids down for a big talk about how things are going to change. It was pretty matter of fact: ‘Mom and Dad love other people, and you’re going to start seeing expressions of that love in our family.’ We were very intentional about the language that we used, keeping it age-appropriate while still being very direct. They honestly didn’t have a lot of questions about it.” 

Moo’s response to the question of how she likes the setup was likewise direct: “It’s fun because I have a second family and we all get to go hang out. And anytime we get to do something, I’m like, ‘Are the Nances coming?’ Because it’s ten times more fun if they do.” 

The children are accustomed to being part of a large family dynamic. As Kat points out,  “Sometimes it’s sad and there’s literally no one in the house. Most of the time, it’s fun because the more, the merrier.” 

Finding space

The couples manage to find time with their romantic partners no matter which house they choose to stay at for the night. Dusty explains, “We have shared space [at my house in Tacoma]. When I go over to the Nances, I’m staying with Tiffany. [In Tacoma], we have a bedroom downstairs where Tiffany and I can stay. We have some pretty nice living arrangements in our two houses, going back and forth. And we host things where the whole polycule comes over as well at either house. And that’s always nice.” 

While polycule relationships don’t always result in co-housing, the Nances, Walls and Trembath say it makes sense for them and boils down to two factors: time and finances.  

From three to two to one

The polycule used to have three residences before downsizing to two. Their goal is to have all the adults and kids in one residence. But finding the right house is challenging: With many adults comes many social-emotional needs. 

“I’m an introvert” says Trembath. “It can be hard when there are so many people and there’s not a space [for] quiet time.”  

Read more:

Where we live: Buying our first home with ARCH

The post Where we live: The close-knit polycule appeared first on Seattle's Child.

‘Factory art studio vibe’

From the outside, the building is a big rectangular box. Inside, five floors are divided into quadrants. Brown’s unit is a long, narrow space, measuring about 1,550 square feet, with tall ceilings — the “factory art studio vibe,” as she describes it. 

“When I had the inspection done on the place, the inspector said it was as solid as a building could be, built with cinder blocks and old factory materials.” 

The building is restricted to residents with a sustained and committed art practice, so Brown — a retail designer and visual artist — was able to secure a unit after passing a rigorous vetting process. 

Affordable space for an artist mom

“I would never have been able to buy this much space if it had been a traditional building,” Brown says.

“When you buy, you have to be aware that you’re not going to buy it as an investment,” Brown explains. “You’re buying it because you’re an artist, and this building is more affordable for people to have space to make art.”

Splitting time between two very different households

When Brown’s family moved into the artists’ co-op, her sons were still splitting their time with their dad on Vashon Island, which is as different a setting from Georgetown as you could get. Living in the space felt like sleeping in a train station, with bright security lights from neighboring buildings flooding the bedrooms and loud industrial noises. Propane tanks occasionally exploded under the nearby overpass.

“[Georgetown] feels diametrically opposed to being on Vashon, where it’s very, very quiet, and the silence almost is a presence on its own. The sounds here have their own personality,” Brown says. “[The boys] were a little bit freaked out by the neighborhood and the fact that [we lived in] an old factory building. But it’s their other home to them now.”

Would the kids get bored?

Brown worried that her kids would get bored being inside all the time without a yard. A park was within walking distance, but Brown didn’t feel comfortable sending her young kids outside on their own. Thankfully, with her sons living part-time on Vashon, Brown knew they were getting ample time outdoors and with friends.

For several years, the boys would wake up early and catch the ferry to Vashon for school. During the pandemic, online learning allowed the boys to do school from either home. But afterward, the boys balked at the early wake-up times of the pre-pandemic days, and now spend their weekdays on Vashon, with most weekends with Brown in Seattle.

A mix of new and old community approach

Brown describes the community within the building as “somewhere between that sort of nostalgic, traditional sense of knowing your neighbor and the modern trope of the next-door stranger.” The family doesn’t spend a lot of time with their neighbors outside of the residents’ monthly gatherings, but there’s enough trust and community built in that neighbors can count on each other for support — or a cup of sugar — when needed.

The unconventional living environment “normalizes and opens [my sons’] minds to alternate ways of living, thinking, and making a living,” Brown says “It creates a broader landscape of feasible possibilities for the way you envision your future and your life. There’s a unique sense of community when we all come together to rake or do a holiday party or open studio every year.”

Like mom, like sons

For many years, Ozzie and Iggy have participated in the building’s annual open studio events and made and sold art alongside Brown. When the boys created political art during the 2016 election season, the neighbors applauded and supported their creative efforts—something that Brown recognizes may not have happened in a non-artist community.

Ozzie continues to integrate art into his everyday life, which he attributes to living in the co-op. “It has changed my perspective and how I look at the world, I think in a positive way,” he says.  

Iggy agrees with his brother about the impact Georgetown and the co-op had on his perception of creativity and art. “The building and the location can be a little bit isolating sometimes, though,” he says. 

Seeds coming to fruition

“Now that they’re older, the benefits outweigh the challenges,” Brown says, adding that the challenges of being a single mom are conflated with those of the specific living situation. “All of the planting of seeds of that flexibility is coming to fruition. Their needs are not as specific as when they were kids. And they’re so much more independent and figuring stuff out on their own.”  

Read more:

Where we live: Two families own one home

The post Where we live: This old shoe factory is home appeared first on Seattle's Child.

In 2019, Tarawally found herself in an unthinkable situation: She and her kids (ages 8 and 9 at the time) faced homelessness after she lost her job. 

Before the COVID pandemic, Tarawally, a single mom, relied on Boys & Girls Club childcare services to cover her kids while she worked. Her son has autism and requires specific care and attention. However, lower staffing during the pandemic meant Linus could not get the individualized care he needed. 

A crisis hits

While her employer had been understanding of Tarawally’s unique child care situation when she was initially employed, they eventually told her they could no longer provide flexible work accommodations. In May 2019, Tarawally was let go. Unable to pay rent, she, Linus, and her daughter Pandora ended up at Mary’s Place, the region’s central shelter program and wrap-around support provider for unhoused families. The family remained in the shelter for 66 days.

Tarawally says of her child care and housing challenges: “Our situation requires unique parameters for us to work. And it’s not stable. Maybe I can stay with a company for almost a year until something happens with my child. Maybe too many times I have to leave early to do something for him.” 

A common challenge for families

Dominique Alex, CEO of Mary’s Place, says Tarawally’s child care conundrum is not uncommon. 

“The lack of affordable high-quality child care impacts a family’s ability to work and pay rent, or even where they choose to live,” Alex says. “It’s one of the most challenging barriers to helping families move back into stable housing.”

With the help and support of Mary’s Place, Tarawally and her kids found permanent stable housing in August 2019. To get there, the nonprofit organization paired Tarawally with a housing advocate who provided support while she navigated finding the right place. The organization also helped with moving costs. 

Loving their ‘tax credit apartment’

Now ages 12 and 13, Pandora and Linus can be left home unsupervised for longer periods of time. And that makes parenting while working full-time a little easier for Tarawally. She feels as though she is making progress in what she calls her “tax credit apartment” in Kirkland — a building close to her work and from which it is more difficult to be evicted. 

The years spent cycling through doubt, child care concerns and related employment issues still haunt Tarawally. 

When she returned to work post-pandemic, Tarawally turned to the club’s child care services once more since staffing levels had returned to normal. Unfortunately, concerns arose about her son’s care that Tarawally could not ignore. She found herself spinning in circles to solve her child care challenge. 

Stable doesn’t stop the worry

Although she’s been in stable housing for more than four years, she can’t help but worry about long-term housing security.

“Even though I have basic milestones that consider someone an adult, like job, car, place, all those things are highly conditional in our situation,” she says.

That unease is understandable. Now that Tarawally, a college graduate, makes $25 an hour, she no longer qualifies for food stamps. This single change in income is a significant contributing factor to Tarawally’s accumulating debt. Still, Tarawally’s tenacity keeps her going. Even as she worries about putting food on the table, her positive attitude feeds her hope for a bright future for her family. 

‘Reinvention every time’

“In order for me to stay motivated, stay proactive, and have some hope and belief that I can somehow create a better situation, I have to do some form of reinvention every time things happen,” she says.

Tarawally credits her daughter with the family’s transition from unhoused to stability. Because Pandora cares for her brother with a disability, Tarawally is able to continue her full-time employment and avoid being let go. 

A mix of pride and guilt

Still, “mom guilt” weighs heavily on Tarawally. She worries that her heavy reliance on Pandora will have long-term repercussions, and she regrets that her daughter was forced to step into a role that she may not have been ready for — all for the sake of staying housed. 

With her finances and housing relatively stable, Tarawally lives on hope. 

She is proud that her children do not feel the effects of her financial struggles and that she is able to meet all her family’s basic needs.

“By any definition, we’re poor. But my children really aren’t feeling it. And that’s my only credit,” she says. “It’s that I make a lot happen for them with what little I have.”  

Read more: 

Where we live: Two families own one home

The post Where we live: The way home appeared first on Seattle's Child.

In 2020, the couple and their first child were living with Chima’s parents in Wallingford while saving money to buy property outside the city. When COVID hit, they reevaluated their goals, which altered the trajectory of their lives.

Reevaluating how to live

“We both started feeling really claustrophobic, and it didn’t help that we were living with my parents,” Chima says. “But it didn’t feel like we could go back to how things were. We wanted to get out of the cycle, the same sights and sounds, to form our own way.”

They began scoping out towns and properties, seeking acreage, greenery, and racial diversity. The week they bought their current house on Whidbey Island, they found out Maddox was expecting their second child.

Not having grown up with much time in nature, Maddox is grateful that her kids — now ages 2 and 5 — are exposed to more possibilities of how to live. With distance from her corporate past, Maddox recognizes the disconnect many of us have with the earth and our bodies, and the unsustainability of goals like promotions, wealth, and travel.

A new investment

These realizations led Maddox to trade in her laptop for gardening tools. She quit her job at Amazon to homeschool her children and invest in the local agricultural community. She began growing vegetables, and the family’s yard now features native landscaping and food forests.

“It started with spending time in nature and letting the kids see where their food comes from,” Maddox says. “That alone is really world-shifting.”

Maddox started a farm collective with other local women — some are farmers, others are creative business owners. It is a primary source of community and education for her family.

Including kids in whatever they do

“We want our kids to be included in whatever we do, so we bring them to the farm,” Maddox says. “We have meetings, potlucks, get-togethers, and our kids are always a part of that. It’s not directly earth-tending, but it allows them to see that we’re having these conversations about what it means to be inclusive with our kids. What does it mean to create communities that support each other? That’s really powerful for them.”

Maddox also started Black Girl Country Living, which offers workshops, podcasts, and coaching to others who resonate with the family’s values. Her Instagram account (@blackgirl.countryliving) covers gardening, mental health, parenting, social justice, and more — and how they all intersect.

Missing some city haunts

But even with nature as their playground and healing space, Maddox and Chima do miss some aspects of city life.

“The museums, for sure,” Maddox says. “There’s always so much happening on the weekends [in Seattle] and there are so many good parks. It’s taken a lot more effort to find other moms and kids who I want to raise my kids around, who have shared values. … Even more so, finding other families of color has been challenging, so I’ve put in a lot of effort driving down to the BIPOC community center on the south end of the island.”

Maddox also misses Seattle shopping and pastries, but the trade-offs have been worth it.

“Learning to find something I enjoy has been the greatest payoff, and being able to find ways of working with my family on different creative projects,” says Maddox. “I don’t think that would have ever happened if we were still in the city.”

Worth the work

Chima agrees that the personal sacrifices are worthwhile, even though he misses Seattle’s music scene and the ease of getting together with friends and family in the city.

However, “[the move] has opened up a lot of possibility in terms of what we can do with our time and our careers,” says Chima, who works full-time and remotely as a UX designer. “Moving out here and the quiet that came with it has made me more in tune with how I want to spend my time because you don’t have as many interruptions. It’s just quieter in the evenings, and you can reflect.”

A place to ground

Since moving, Chima has started a podcast about music, Sound Dialect, and has become more active in online music communities while dreaming bigger about his role in those spaces. Maddox feels more grounded in the earth and inspires others — including her children — to pursue more sustainable lifestyles. Their kids are experiencing the healing powers of nature. They are growing up with the wind in their hair and their hands in the dirt.  

Read more:

Dad Next Door: ‘Lip-Gloss-Gate’

Where we live: Buying our first home with ARCH

The post Where we live: Good-bye city, hello country appeared first on Seattle's Child.

That’s Sarah Stuteville, a mental health counselor and mom of two, talking about her best friend Jessica Partnow, who co-owns the nearly 3,500 square-foot Central District home Sarah and her husband, Alex Stonehill, purchased in 2009.

Friends and family

Jessica and her husband, Kurtiss, live downstairs; Sarah, Alex, and their kids live upstairs. They all own the property together—Sarah and Alex 60%, Jessica and Kurtiss 40%. They have been co-owners since 2021. 

As housing becomes more unaffordable, families in the greater Seattle area have adapted. One such adaptation is shared homeownership. While most shared ownership agreements are between multigenerational families or tech workers (think HBO’s “Silicon Valley”), sharing the cost of a home with trusted friends is an attractive alternative to, say, paying $200,000 for a down payment.

Tenancy in common

Tenancy-in-common (TIC) agreements allow two or more individuals to own a property together. Right now, with the median home price in Seattle almost double the national median and mortgage rates the highest in decades, sharing a home may appeal to families who have been squeezed out of the market.

In a TIC, each owner has an undivided interest in the entire property regardless of how much of the property they own. Everyone is responsible for maintenance and repairs.

At the Stuteville-Stonehill-Partnow residence, each family manages issues specific to their space, but they split the cost of utilities, repairs, and taxes. “We are like family,” says Alex, “so it’s not really a negotiation. We just trust each other.”

Extra set of hands

Like a family, Jessica and Kurtiss provide “an extra set of hands,” according to Sarah, in raising the kids, Malcolm, 8, and Hellenore, 5. The children have learned how to live in community as a result of the arrangement. Hellenore says likes the chance to “do a mission, like take Titi and Kurtiss olive oil when they’re cooking.”

“Sarah, Alex, and I have been friends and business partners in so many ways over the years,” says Jessica. “All of those years, building our trust and friendship has made owning a house together feel like the most natural thing in the world.”

The friendships formed by this tight trio became a lifeline when crisis struck.

Making homeownership possible

In 2020, Jessca and Kurtiss were house hunting when Kurtiss suffered a stroke. Hopes of owning a home were dashed. Kurtiss would need a living space to accommodate a wheelchair, and his care took precedence over other expenditures. 

This could have been the end of the couple’s dream of homeownership. Instead, it was the start of something amazing. 

Together, Sarah, Alex, Kurtiss, and Jessica came up with a plan. Jessica and Kurtiss would buy into the residence, purchasing 40% of the property. The couples renovated the first floor to accommodate Kurtiss’s wheelchair. 

“Kurtiss’s stroke really showed us why building a community is so important,” says Jessica. “If we were on our own, I have no idea where we’d be living.”

Since Sarah and Alex rented out space in the house before their children were born, the kids are accustomed to living with other people. They pop downstairs for snacks, and Jessica and Kurtiss will often let a babysitter leave early and keep a baby monitor downstairs when Sarah and Alex are out. 

Few difficulties

The children are also smitten with Uncle Kurtiss’s service dog, Queso. 

“They are really good with Queso. They learned right away he’s only allowed to play when he’s ‘off duty,’” says Jessica.

Most difficulties the families encountered came from outside the home.

“We struggled to find a lawyer who understood what we wanted,” Sarah says, “and everybody thought we were crazy.” 

Ironing out social connection is important

Zach Burr, a property lawyer with Burrwood Law Group, hasn’t negotiated many TICs or shared homeownership agreements for separate families. He said more families are building Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs), like backyard cottages, which they can then rent out or sell off. But for the most part, ADUs are a separate living space entirely. 

“There are definitely financial benefits to sharing a home, but you have to take into account the social issues,” says Zach. “Adding people to your home isn’t stress-free.” He recommends drawing up a community guidelines agreement to which each owner can adhere. 

We do it marriage, why not with friends?

For his part, Alex doesn’t understand reticence toward shared homeownership.

“You enter into an agreement like this when you buy a house with the person you marry,” says Alex. “Why do we trust that immediately, but not our friends?”

An extra set of hands at the ready? Support through life’s curveballs? Enjoying a meal with your best friend every week? 

That doesn’t sound crazy at all.

Read more:

Seattle’s Child March/April 2024 issue: Where we live and why

5 easy green living tips for families

The post Where we live: Two families own one home appeared first on Seattle's Child.

Of course, by the time I was an adult, there was nothing I would have loved more than a house in my childhood neighborhood. 

Unfortunately, when I returned to Renton after several years in the military, I was faced with a shocking fact: I could not afford a house in the neighborhood I grew up in. Rapid gentrification meant the small, cinder-block houses that were a source of shame growing up were now beyond my means. The irony doesn’t escape me.  

The author, Joan King, purchased her first home through the ARCH program. Photo courtesy Joan King.

Accessing the dream

Beyond wanting to raise my children in a property we owned, I’d seen the sacrifices that my parents made to move to this country. For me, owning a home was the epitome of success and fulfilled the American Dream. Since then, I’ve become more disillusioned with that dream, which values meritocracy over equity when it comes to housing. But, when I gave birth to my son in 2013, my primary goal was to own a home to shield my son from the misguided shame I felt as a child, a place where I could curate Christmas traditions I missed as a child. When I was a child, we couldn’t even afford Christmas lights. 

My husband and I are both Air Force veterans. I am grateful to the military for providing me with a chance to find financial stability and for its generous educational benefits. But there are a lot of misconceptions about Veterans Administration (VA) benefits and housing. For example, a lot of people tout our access to VA home loans, where a vet can purchase a home for zero percent down. It’s a great benefit, but it doesn’t address the monster of a mortgage payment veteran home buyers face since there is no down payment to alleviate monthly payments. 

The truth is that it is still best to put money down. Despite the “benefit” we were entitled to, my husband and I were discouraged and wondered if owning was even a possibility.

Hunting for a home

We moved to Washington in 2014 and stayed at my mother’s home while we hunted for a house, wondering how we would afford a home without a massive down payment. That’s when I came across a 1,200-square-foot condominium listing that claimed to be an ‘ARCH home.’ After some Googling and speaking to my realtor, I learned that A Regional Coalition for Housing (ARCH) provides affordable housing throughout King County for first-time homeowners who qualify as “low-income.” 

ARCH homes are offered for sale at affordable prices within market-rate housing developments and are available in a range of sizes, types, and price points. The organization has put properties on the market in Redmond, Kirkland, Bellevue, Newcastle, Issaquah, Sammamish, Kenmore, Woodinville, Duvall, and unincorporated King County. Agreements made on how ARCH properties are used (covenants) help keep prices affordable long-term and ensure that they are owner-occupied (as opposed to subletting to others). 

Applying to ARCH

We did not hesitate to apply for the ARCH Issaquah Highlands condominium we’d found. Since my friends were paying around $2,000 to $3,000 a month for daycare at the time, I wanted to stay at home with our new baby to avoid those costs. This decision ultimately made us eligible for the program’s low-income requirement. 

The ARCH application process was surprisingly efficient, and we closed on the condo in approximately one month. We were shocked at the ease. 

One of the contingencies of purchasing an ARCH home is that there is a cap on how much you can ask for when selling your home. After living in our condominium for six years, we decided to move into a larger home in 2018. Just then, the housing market spiked in Issaquah. When there is an exponential increase in market value, ARCH increases its listing cap. 

After we requested the cap to be raised, we sold within a couple of months and profited almost $120,000 dollars. We turned around and put that profit right into a down payment in a  2,000-square-foot home in Covington. Our mortgage payment is now approximately $2,500. 

We have lived in our house for about five years now. Every Christmas, I put up our tree, promising myself to one day purchase a little home in my old Renton neighborhood where my husband and I can quietly retire. I’m sure that by then our knees will be grateful for a small home — without stairs.  

Learn more

Go to the ARCH Rental Program Income and Rent Guidelines at archhousing.org for information on income limits.

Read more:

Where we live: Two families own one home

The post Where we live: Buying our first home with ARCH appeared first on Seattle's Child.

After  “Lip-Gloss-Gate” was sorted out, and an uneasy peace was restored, I remember asking one of the teachers WTF had happened to the delightful girls of the previous year. She just shrugged and said: “Welcome to seventh grade.”

Apparently, this happened to every class like clockwork. Some biological clock deep inside their brains told them that this was the time to redefine themselves, and the best way to do that was in relation to each other. Suddenly they arranged themselves into cliques and alliances, and found themselves navigating a world full of misunderstandings, slights’ and betrayals. Hardly a day went by without someone dissolving into tears. She assured us that the girls would begin to settle down in a year or so. In the meantime, she recommended that we try not to get whiplash from the sudden ups, downs, and screeching hairpin turns. Just buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

Looking back, my own middle school years occupy a hazy place in my brain. Mostly I just recall the feelings: anxiety, uncertainty, and a constant discomfort in my own skin. Like most of my childhood memories, the actual experiences of those years seem almost as if they happened to someone else. 

My memories from just a year or two later have a different quality. I think of them as part of an unbroken line of identity that leads all the way to the present day. The person I was in high school was clearly just a younger, dumber, more energetic version of me. The person I was in middle school seems like an entirely different person.

This idea, that our pre-adolescent selves were actually not the same people we are today, is more than a metaphor–it’s a neurodevelopmental fact. Vast areas of the cerebral cortex, and especially the prefrontal lobes, which enable executive function and decision-making, undergo massive growth and rewiring during adolescence. So much of our brains are rebuilt, remodeled and added onto in those teenage years, it’s like one of those big new houses constructed on the site of a cramped little shack. The old foundation is still there, and the address doesn’t change, but it’s more like a teardown than a renovation.

These days, I’ve been trying to keep all of this in mind as our 13-year-old Pippa makes her way through the seventh grade. Her emotional rollercoaster is in full swing these days. One moment, she’s sullen and monosyllabic, and the next, she’s babbling a mile a minute about some dramatic development with her friends. She challenges everything we say or do and resists every suggestion we make on principle–the principle being that if we think she should do something, it must be part of an insidious plot to rob her of her agency and autonomy and deny her chosen identity. Or maybe she’s just tired because she stayed up late last night. Who the hell knows?

Sigh. Buckle up. Enjoy the ride.

I will say, though, that halfway through this tumultuous year, we’re beginning to see some light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes, between the wild swings of self-absorption, reactivity, obstinance and withdrawal, there are these little moments of awareness and connection. Out of nowhere, she might turn to us and express gratitude for something we’ve done, or confide in us about something that’s on her mind. It’s a little awkward–like a new AI program trying to figure out how to act like a human–but she’s trying. You can almost see her remodeled prefrontal cortex taking shape, one brick at a time. In those moments, I start to see glimpses of the adult she’s in the process of becoming, and it’s someone I’m looking forward to getting to know.

Soon. Please, let it be soon.

Read more from the Dad Next Door:

Dad Next Door: The Importance of Being Earnest

The Dad Next Door: A Moveable Feast

The Dad Next Door: Fahrenheit 451

Dad Next Door: Ready in the bullpen

Dad Next Door archives

The post Dad Next Door: ‘Lip-Gloss-Gate’ appeared first on Seattle's Child.