Spec House Time Machine

I love my house. It's perfect for my family, and we have developed a system of organization that works for us. There are times, though, that I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and do a few things differently. Most of my regrets have to do with the area leading to my back door. If I had planned it right, that space could be the most efficient space in my house, but it's far from it. For example:

• I wish I'd spent more time thinking through the storage in the laundry room. I really want my laundry room to look like this

but it doesn't. It's a jumble of cupboards filled with who knows what, and no room for either laundry baskets or hampers. Sometimes the only way I can tell the clean laundry from the dirty laundry (besides the obvious) is this: the dirty laundry is on the floor waiting to be washed, the clean laundry is on the red chair in the family room waiting to be folded.

• I wish I had re-constructed the linen closet by the bathroom before I moved in. Now that I have three kids in school, I dream of a storage system that looks like this

but mine doesn't. It's filled with a mixture of toilet paper, tote bags, loaf pans, empty vases, sometimes beach towels, sometimes things JP is hiding from the kids. I dream of having those three backpacks, coats and lunch boxes staged perfectly by the back door. But, unless my kids want to grab a roll of toilet paper, a loaf pan and a handful of foreign coins on their way out the door, the closet is useless as anything but a holding pen for things I don't know what to do with.

• The powder room would be perfect if I were a single girl with the occasional visitor, but is not at all functional for a family of five. If I had it to do all over again, I would replace the toilet with an industrial strength model with would support the needs of a sorority house, and I would replace our pretty pedestal sink with a more functional model that has storage. That way Jack's vast collection of Axe personal care products could be stowed away under the sink along with extra rolls of toilet paper. As I mentioned earlier in this post, rolls of toilet paper are stored in the closet across the hall from the bathroom. Very inconvenient as you can imagine if one finds herself faced with the empty roll still on the holder and no one within shouting distance to come to the rescue.

If we decide to do some renovating in our house, that area by the back door is going to be the first thing to go. I can imagine it completely reconfigured into one big room with laundry, bath and mudrooms all in one. Maybe we can even work in a little spot for Jasper.

A Katie-Friendly House

As all regular Suburban Zen readers know, JP and I pride ourselves in having a house that incorporates both brains and beauty: it looks great most of the time because it's built with a kid-friendly foundation that can take the beating our family dishes out. One important element to making our house work for our family, is accommodating Katie, the youngest, smallest and most independent of the Furber family members. Katie likes to do most things herself, and loves to help in the kitchen, so we have a set of simple tools to make that easy for her:

A Kik-Step Rolling Stepstool in our pantry that she can roll out when she wants to help in the kitchen

Little stepstools that we stash in the bathroom, under the coffee table, and other places so there's always one available for her to reach what she needs

A big breadbox that sits on a low shelf in the pantry filled with snacks

And a drawer full of plastic plates and glasses so Katie can help herself when she's hungry

And up until recently, we had a Stokke Trip Trap chair for her at the end of our kitchen table that served as both a booster chair and a step ladder, depending on the desired function at the moment.

About six months ago, Katie announced she was too big for that chair and no longer needed it, so now it sits in our garage. As Katie gets bigger, I'm sure each of the other helpers we have for her will be retired to the garage. But for now, they're happy reminders that while Andie is just a few years away from going off to college, our little Katie will be here to keep us company for a nice long time.

1 Furber House - 4 Furbers = 1 Lonely Mom

Every summer for the last seven years, JP and the kids clear out of Alamo for a few weeks and go to the family beach house in Olympia Washington. That time has come, and they all leave early on Tuesday morning. The time on the beach is great for them, not so great for me, as my full time job keeps me home all summer.

So for ten days (until I meet up with everyone in Sun Valley to celebrate July 4th) I will roam my house alone, missing my family. The problem with a house like mine, is that 50 weeks of the year, it's a fabulous celebration of our happy life together. But two weeks of the year, everything in it makes me miss my family:

Pictures everywhere of the kids in various ages and stages
Kids art hanging on the walls
The map that's marked with all the Furber family travels
The big kitchen table with lots of chairs around it -- when my family's gone, I eat standing up in the kitchen. Too lonely to sit at that giant table without JP and the kids
The drawer full of plastic cups, plates and straws for Katie so she can get her own food when she wants to

Ugh. I'm dreading Tuesday morning, but dreading Tuesday night more when I come home from work to an empty house. I'm not usually a person who relishes the moments when I'm alone in my house (in fact I can't think of very many of those). I like the signs of life my family brings to my house: a little noise, a mess here and there, balls bouncing in the driveway, the occasional power struggle between Jack and Katie. The contrast of all that one day and a clean, quiet, empty house the next. Yuck.

Bon voyage, Furber family. Don't miss me as much as I'll miss you.

Home Gym - 2009 Edition

When I was in high school, I thought I'd be an architect when I grew up. In my art classes I drew many versions of my dream house, and even designed architectural plans and built a model for my dream house as my Senior AP Art final project. In the early design stages, my dream house always included a workout room. As I've mentioned many times in Suburban Zen, my Mom was ahead of her time, and we had a stationary bike in our basement in the 80's. I rode that bike every night, and a workout room filled with equipment seemed like the ultimate luxury to me.

Now that I am actually grown up, and can buy and furnish my dream house, we don't have a workout room, but we do have some pretty fancy equipment:

A pair of Pumas that I use to walk to the donut store most Sunday mornings with Katie.
A bike that I ride around the neighborhood, to the middle school, to the Farmer's Market, or to Lawrence's for a cheeseburger on a weekend afternoon.
A large dog that I chase around the coffee table when he steals the pillows off my sofa.
Same large dog that pulls JP around the neighborhood, simultaneously strengthening his arms and improving his cardiovascular health.
A 40 pound five year old child who still likes to be picked up occasionally.
A swimming pool in the backyard that's mostly used for floating, but now and then used for swimming laps.
A basketball hoop, two skateboards and a scooter that keep Jack as physically fit as IronMan.

No one room to keep it all in, as all the rooms are filled with children. That wasn't part of my plan when I was in high school planning my dream house, but our 2009 version of the home gym works just fine.

The Last Family on Earth Without DVR

We are indeed the last family on earth without DVR. Or On Demand. Aside from a few gadgets in my life, I'm not a huge fan of non-essential technology. It always seems to create as many problems as it solves.

However, I'm finally ready to take the plunge and invest in DVR and On Demand for the simple reason that I can't find a DVD in my house when I want one. We've tried storing them alphabetically, by genre, by rating. No luck. If I want to watch a movie on a friday night, I have to resign myself to watching whatever I can find in the room I'm in.

I estimate that we've invested around $15,000 in our DVD collection over the years, and really just watch Ocean's 11, National Treasure, Iron Man (I do love Tony Stark), and Notting Hill over and over because those are the movies we can all agree on and can find.

Call the cable guy, JP. I'm ready to donate that big DVD collection to the local library and use those cupboards to store my shoes. We will no longer be the last family on earth without DVR. But sorry Jack, we will still be the last family on earth without AirSoft Guns.

School of Mom

In honor of Mother's Day, I thought I'd do a few more posts on the subject. My Mom, for example. She was ahead of her time in lots of ways, and much more mellow than I realized when I was young and living in her house.

Mom, thanks for teaching me some valuable lessons that I use today in my house:
Let the kids use the good china, silver and crystal. What's the fun of having that stuff if you don't use it?


Life's too short to use paper napkins


Anything can be a decorative object. I'll never forget the wall of baskets in the kitchen -- and that you actually used them.


If the kids paint the walls in the garage while you're out for the evening, don't freak out. It's only the garage.


Let the kids redecorate their own rooms. I spent many Saturday afternoons moving furniture around in my room, moving things from other rooms in the house into my room, and then evaluating the results. Good practice for my chosen profession.

Casual is cool. While my friends' Moms had very fancy living rooms and dining rooms, we never did. We used every room in our house.

Now that I have a house of my own, I am just like my Mom. Casual, pretty mellow, and willing to bust out the champagne flutes on a Saturday morning if that will make my kids smile.

Love you Mom.

Road Trip!

The Furber family set out for our annual Easter vacation road trip to Sun Valley last night. Typically, we take two days to make the trip: one day to Winnemucca then next day on the home stretch. This time we decided on a whim to pull an all nighter, so we left @ 9:30 pm Friday and arrived @ 9am Saturday.

The prep for the road trip was very easy this time because we packed in a flurry and the kids slept the whole way. Usually it takes a little longer and we prepare our secret weapon -- the road trip bag.


A few years ago for Christmas, Santa gave the Furber kids a canvas bag filled with everything three kids need to occupy themselves on a twelve hour road trip:
Clipboards
Paper
Pens, pencils and crayons
An Etch-a-Sketch
A Rubik's Cube
Travel Scrabble, Battleship and Operation
Card Games
A Pocket IQ Test that we've all failed
Electronic 20 Questions and BlackJack
Travel pillows, cozy plush throws and headphones for everyone

After every trip we clean out the road bag, tuck everything back in and get it ready to go for the next trip. Furber kids are quiet and happy the whole way (mostly), and the outbursts and frustration are kept to a minimum.

I wish Santa would hook me up with a road trip bag of my own.

Who Needs Walls?

Since it's high summer, I thought I'd dedicate a few posts to the outside of the house. My family is lucky to live in California, where it's summer most of the year, so our backyard has become an extension of our family room. We eat, lounge, sleep, and play outside almost all year round. My favorite feature in our backyard is a doublewide chaise that's situated by the pool. My three children and I can all fit very comfortably in the chaise together, and have spent many sunny afternoons lounging and reading in that spot. In order to make it perfectly perfect, we have a big umbrella to shade us from the sun, big beach towels to cover the cushion and make it nice and soft, and nice, big pillows to make it extra comfy.

So far this summer, my family has logged approx. 1,962 hours in the back yard, most of them on the double chaise by the pool. I'm thinking about treating my backyard like a fine resort and charging my children for the use of the chaise. Perhaps I should charge them for towel service also.

Athens Beach, Where the Water is Cold and the Women are Hot

I just spent ten days with my family at my in-laws' house on the beach. There's nothing like the peaceful sound of waves, and the smell of the salt air to relax a girl. Those of us lucky enough to have a family house on a beach somewhere know that there is a unique decorating challenge that goes along with the sea and salt air: how to make the house comfortable and usable for the whole family along with their sandy feet and wet swimsuits.

My sister-in-law Kristen has a simple, but failproof formula that's worked for years. It's a combination of easy care materials inside the house, and tricks to minimize the traffic in and out of the house.

When the summer starts, and the families start to invade the beach house, Kristen sets up the following:

A big galvanized bucket by the back door that serves as both a place to collect shoes, and a reminder to everyone to remove their shoes before entering the house

A bucket of clean water at the top of the stairs leading from the beach -- from the time they can walk up the stairs by themselves, the kids know to stop and dip their feet to remove the sand before coming up to the house

The outdoor shower is stocked with shampoo, soap and big beach towels

The outdoor refrigerator is stocked with drinks, fruit and popsicles so the three major summer food groups can be accessed without entering the house

A hammock hanging under the deck right on the beach, so afternoon naps can be taken outside instead of inside. My son Jack and I have spent many hours swinging in that hammock and reading. Last summer we both spent a week in that hammock reading Harry Potter 7.

Kristen has made the outside of the house an extension of the inside, with many of the same conveniences. My mother-in-law is happy because the invasion of sand and saltwater in the house is kept to a minimum, the kids are even happier, because they don't have to interrupt their beach time for boring pursuits like food, water, or rest, and Kristen and I are especially happy, because our bikini time far outweighs our housekeeping time.

Life in the White House

My friend Sheryl stopped by the other night to pick up her son after a playdate with Jack and we were discussing the new slipcovers I had just bought for my family room sofas. When I told her they were white, she said "WHAT?! White? Why would you do that?"

I realized then that it's time to share a secret with all my fellow moms: white is the most under-used and under-rated color in the interior palette of a family home. Unlike bright colors, or other non-white neutrals, white can be washed in hot water and bleached. I buy everything that gets tons of use in white: I have white sheets and a white duvet on my bed, white bathtowels in my bathrooms, white floursack towels in my kitchen, white slipcovers on my sofas, white table linens in my linen closet.

I don't worry too much about spilling. If I did, I'd be in a straightjacket -- I've watched my son Jack wipe his face on the sofa. Whenever something gets messy, I just give it a warm, sudsy, bleachy bath and it's good as new. When something needs a little extra brightening, I make like my Mother-in-Law and put it out in the sun for an afternoon.

Because my basics spend lots of time in the pool, I've learned to always have a few extra sets of everything, and to pay a little more for quality base fabrics so the items last longer. Here are some rules I live by:

For sheets and towels, I always buy combed cotton when I can, because carded cotton pills.

For slipcovers, I always buy denim or canvas when I can, because those fabrications have more body, and don't get too wrinkly in the dryer.

For kitchen towels, I always buy the classic floursack towels made by Ritz. They're the best, they don't leave lint on your glasses, and they're cheap -- you can get 4 for about $10 from any restaurant supply or kitchen store.

For table linens, I always buy classic hotel linens. The good ones have a really thick, mitered border all around, so they don't shrivel up in the wash, and whatever that fabrication is, it lasts forever. Best of all, the hotel linens don't really need to be ironed. Which works for me because the last time I had an iron out, my daughter Andie said "what's that?" The time before that, my Mother-in-Law took a picture of me with the iron because she wanted to have it on film.

Waiting until the kids are out of the house to indulge in white is for wusses. I've got a Maytag Neptune and a bottle of Clorox. Bring it on!

Just Call Me Charles Darwin

Survival of the fittest is my philosophy when it comes to choosing decorative things for my house. Anything that breaks, chips, hurts when it's dropped on a foot, or doesn't look better when enhanced with crayon or marker is out. Anything that bounces, can be knocked over without breaking or can withstand being stacked as high as it will go just to watch it tip over is in.

In the early years, I wasted a lot of breath on sentences that began with "don't." "Don't throw that in the house," "don't pick that up, it will break," "don't move that, it's fragile." One day my daughter Andie turned to me and said "well, what can I touch?" and I knew it was time for my accessories to evolve and adapt to their environment.

There are certain characteristics that enhance a decorative item's chances of survival in my house. They are:

Items that the kids like and don't want to see harmed. My number coasters fall into that category. I keep a few sets on the coffee table in a big bowl and my little Katie lines them up and counts with them. Even though they're ceramic, they've never broken. She's very careful because she loves them.


Things that you couldn't break if you tried, like the bowl of dried gourds in my family room. They look pretty, and are completely kid proof.


Things that look good when they're messy, like my favorite decorative device, the stack of books. You can't beat a pretty stack of books as a space filler -- they look great on a bench behind a sofa, under a table, stacked on shelves. A nice side benefit to having books everywhere is that it seems to send a subliminal message to my kids and they are big readers.


Things that are too heavy to move, like the vintage steel birdbath that's on my coffee table. When the kids are strong enough to pick that thing up, they'll also be coordinated enough not to drop it on their foot.


Our house has evolved to the point where the San Francisco Giants could play in our family room, and they wouldn't break anything. Now that's progress.

I'm no Andy Warhol, but...

I've always loved art that draws out the beauty in the commonplace. Numbers by Jasper Johns is one of my favorite paintings, and I love the work of artists of the Pop Art movement.

Because I love the simplicity of everyday objects, and because my kids are always looking for something, I started years ago putting all the stuff we use regularly in plain sight. Instead of investing energy in looking for stuff all the time, I invest energy in thinking of ways to make my Qtips, toilet paper and votive candles look pretty.

Glass jars are the center of my universe when it comes to organizing our stuff:

In a house with three kids, you can't have enough soap and Qtips. My bathroom counter always has two huge jars filled with unwrapped white bars of soap and Qtips. Because those things are all white, they look great. I also keep a huge basket in the bathroom that's always filled with about 50 rolls of toilet paper. Another thing you can't have enough of in a house with three kids.

Our home office is designed for grownups on one side and kids on the other, and someone always seems to need a pen, a pencil, tape, a post-it, a glue stick for something. We have big glass jars in the office, most of them filled with one of those things. I reserved a few for my own stuff -- twig colored pencils I bought in Argentina, currency my husband and I have collected from around the world, matchbooks -- and the jars look like a pretty collection.

My kitchen counter is lined with glass jars that are always filled with good snacks for the kids -- pretzels, crackers, sometimes cookies. I even keep one filled with little squares of chocolate for me. The power of suggestion overtakes my kids and they eat the healthy snacks I put out for them. Between my snack jars, the fruity centerpiece on my counter and my super-organized fridge (see post "I Love My Fridge" 5/29/08), I think I have the healthiest kids in my suburb.

The secret is to buy the biggest jars you can find -- the bigger the better -- and go for it. Here are my favorite secret sources for good glass jars:
Ace Mart Restaurant Supply
Williams Sonoma
Container Store

I like to think of my house as a sort of version of Andy Warhol's The American Supermarket with everyday objects displayed as works of art. Well, maybe I just like to think of my house as a place where I can find a roll of toilet paper when I need one.

Get the Hose!

My husband and I have always said our ideal flooring would be cement with a drain in the middle.

However, so far that hasn't really fit with the casual, comfy home we're trying to build for our family. Maybe for the grandkids. So for now, we use rugs like everyone else, and they tend to move through stages just like our kids do:
When my children were tiny, I wanted my flooring to be super soft so they could roll around on it.
When they were a little older, I wanted rugs with pretty patterns so the kids could spill on them and the spills were invisible (for the most part.)
Now that they're even older, I like natural flooring because it's very durable, always looks great and is very easy to clean.

Lately, I've had a new selection criteria: I want my flooring to be free of chemicals and any other artificial stuff so the kids can lounge around on the floor and I don't have to worry. There are lots of good natural rugs on the market now, and they're very easy to find:

Starting with the youngest lifestage, babies crawling on the floor, I've always loved Sheepskin rugs. They're super soft, they're organic, they don't shed, you can wash them, and kids love them. When my daughter Andie was a new baby I always had a sheepskin in front of the big mirror in the bathroom so she could look at herself in the mirror while I showered.

I still have them all over my house -- right now my little Katie is asleep on a sheepskin rug on the floor next to me.


Natural flooring is great for families like mine, and can be easily found in all ranges of quality, from a natural resource like Gaiam to a big retailer like Pottery Barn. Look for the softer sustainable materials like jute and seagrass -- they feel better on your feet than sisal. If your natural fiber rug is backed with latex, this is one place where I'd recommend a synthetic material. Natural latex breaks down over time into a fine white powder, whereas synthetic lasts as long as your rug will, which is a long time.


Gaiam also has this super cool shag rug that's made from unused t-shirt remnants, a by-product of the garment industry.


A new option on the scene is Flor tiles. They have some nice natural fiber options, are made up partly of recycled materials, and don't smell like new carpet because they have the lowest VOC in the industry. FLOR tiles are the next best thing to my hoseable cement floor fantasy.


Another option to consider is a Vintage rug. Vintage rugs can be very expensive, but there are many reasons to love them: they're beautiful and can be handed down through your family, they have intricate patterns and deep colors so they hide all your family's sins, and they already show the signs of a lifetime of use. Very wabi-sabi. Another nice benefit to a vintage rug is the environmental protection aspect -- not producing something new is the best way to limit the impact of consumer goods manufacturing on Mother Nature. It's always good to love your Mother.


Until I get my drain, I'll be settling for natural flooring, sheepskins and will be shopping for a vintage kilim for my living room. But I'll be dreaming of that day when someone makes a mess and I can just shout to my husband "get the hose!"

Coffee Tables That Will Save You a Trip to the ER

Ever since my son Jack required eight stitches after hitting his head on our coffee table, I've been on the lookout for a coffee table that can peacefully coexist with a family like mine in a house like mine. These are my favorites:
Lewis Slipcovered Cubes from Pottery Barn. Lots of cute patterns, extra credit for storage, and for the slipcover (see April 27th post on slipcovers -- you know I love them).

Truck Tarp Ottoman from Anthropologie. Super cool, deconstructed styling. Very WabiSabi, so the kids can't mess it up too much.

Alistair Ottoman from Jayson Home and Garden. Poofy for a nice, soft landing. They also have a nice flea market where you can find one of a kind vintage pieces that can be used as coffee tables. Tables in the French or American Empire style are perfect, because tables in that style tend to be round.

Sullivan Ottoman from Pottery Barn. Poofy for a soft landing, and bonus points for leather so it's easy to clean.

I no longer need to buy a new coffee table, as none of my three children have gone near the coffee table in the four years since Jack's injury. However, if my list saves even one Mom a trip to the ER in her pajamas on Halloween when she's ten months pregnant, then I'll be happy.