It’s been a few weeks since you’ve heard from me, and the truth is, I haven’t quite known how best to bring you along this complicated path with me. Part of me would love nothing more than to have a mini version of each of you sitting right here on my shoulder, cheering me on and helping make the hard decisions. But as I’ve learned over the years, I have a pretty porous disposition. So when I’m feeling extra sensitive to feedback or the progress of other people’s big, fast renovations or simply unsure about next steps, I stay offline.

So in my previous post I mentioned that we’ve been working through the design process, leaning on the contractors to take us through their typical renovation process. Months ago, they recommended we work with a pair of local architectural draftsmen they often hire. Our inclination was to seek out an architect, but this duo has been doing this work for decades. So we decided to see what he came back with and then seek out additional help if we weren’t satisfied. 

Our contractor asked that we create a wish list for the home, highlighting the following components in the home: 

*Must have 
*Would like
*Less important

I firmly agree that you should always think about how you want a room to function and feel before you ever make big changes.

I ask my clients to complete this process, too, before I ever begin design work. And so I was happy to do it for our own home. Here’s a sample of what that looked like for the living room.

While we worked on our wish list, the draftsmen measured the house room by room. Through this process they noticed that the back two rooms of the house sloped pretty significantly—4 whole feet downwards—and because of that, we would have to replace the floor joists. Additionally, the upstairs needed changes because of how it’d been retrofitted decades ago as a separate apartment from downstairs (complete with a kitchen and laundry).

Here’s the existing floor plan for reference (first floor followed by the second floor):

Norm and the draftsman proposed an addition to the back of the house that would replace the existing back three rooms to fix the sloped floors and low ceilings as well as add a second floor extension to the main bedroom upstairs to create an owner’s suite. We were intrigued and decided to move forward with the concept, should it fit our budget. I designed our bathroom with a clawfoot tub and an arched opening. I pulled inspiration for a big walk-in closet, wallpaper for the laundry room. I even paid another interior designer (Heidi Callier) via The Expert to help me think through a tricky kitchen layout.

I was feeling good about the path forward and excited about our plans, but still very anxious to see real numbers. Given how busy all of the sub-contractors are, we knew gathering estimates would take time. Finally last Wednesday, we made plans to discuss everything in person. Norm presented us with a long document and at the very end was a price tag that made me sick to my stomach. It was MANY times more than our original budget. It was so huge that we knew we wouldn’t be moving forward with this plan, which I now think was a blessing in disguise. 

Regardless, I felt defeated, frustrated, and misled.

I understand that Norm was hoping to gather as much information on what we could want in this home, but I found this approach to be a bit unfair—a sentiment I shared with them after I’d had a few hours to process the meeting. Ask anyone for their dream wish list and they might say a pool, a guest house and throw in a home gym because YOLO. But then when you hit them with the reality of what that all costs, very few people could move forward on all of those plans. When I work with clients on design plans, I feel it’s my job to provide guard rails as they dream so they don’t get too disappointed down the road. And from my experience, that practice ensures everyone is on the same page.

Plus, even if we could afford to spend that much doesn’t mean we should.

The last thing we want to do is dump a ton of money into a house that will be hard to sell and make up the difference. From Norm’s perspective, they believed they were helping us plan our dream home and didn’t want to step on our toes about what we couldn’t afford. Since we weren’t super firm on a budget from the beginning (knowing the costs would have to be somewhat flexible because it’s an extensive remodel), they wanted to be open to the possibilities and see how the numbers came back. Another issue for me was that this estimate he presented us only included some hard numbers, like appliances and cabinetry but not insulation, framing, HVAC. I would’ve preferred two estimates: one that was crazy dream scenario and another much more realistic plan. We’ve shared our feelings and later today, we’ll be meeting to talk through a revised plan that eliminates the second floor extension. In general, our thinking on the home has shifted.

We’re now back to seeing this house in its original version, without a big fancy addition. She’s old, a bit wonky, and in need of some rejuvenation, but not a whole damn facelift.

At this point, it’s really a numbers game and we’re still deciding if it will be worth it. If we end up selling the house, I’ll have plenty of feelings to work through. As you can imagine, all of this is quite stressful. It’s not just a renovation of my home, it’s also my work. My biggest concern: Will we have to sink so much into the guts of this house that I’d have nothing left to make it pretty?

I hope to have an answer ASAP.