Tiny House Living in a 3,000 sq ft Home

Thing Two has a pretty bad sore throat. This morning, I was making her some tea with honey and brought her a paper towel to put her tea bag on when she's finished with it.
"Hey! I have small dishes I bought just for that purpose! I wonder which box they are in?"

For the past two years we have been living between two states. The bulk of my time has been spent in Missouri living with my parents on their farm where we are building our barn house. Chris has been mostly living and working in California, where he stayed with his folks in their two bedroom apartment. The girls (Thing One and Thing Two) are homeschooled and have been able to split their time between the two states.

Chris and I are fascinated by the tiny house movement. The minimalist lifestyle, low cost of living, and low environmental impact are fantastic. We considered tiny house living. Then Chris, who is 6'6" and pretty much the definition of big AND tall, spent two years living in a tiny apartment. He discovered he's not a tiny guy. Plus, we have stuff. So, no tiny house for us.


We designed our house, The Big Red Barn, based on some floor plans we saw online, only bigger. If we were going to build this home, we wanted it to be comfortable for many years to come. So ceilings were raised to 10' downstairs and 9' upstairs. Doorways were all widened to 36 inches. The garage was added, along with a shop, and an above ground tornado shelter big enough to house cots and emergency supplies.

We are building debt free which means we don't have a mortgage and are paying cash as we go. In addition, we are doing as much of the work ourselves as possible. So although we have been working on the house for over a year, it's nowhere near completion. Click here to watch our house being built week by week.

In our Big Red Barn house, we have a 530' sq area over the garage that was designated for storage, with hopes of turning it into an efficiency apartment at some later date. We are tired of sharing space. We are ready to be living in our own home. And so we turned that storage space into a little apartment and worked on the upstairs bathroom enough to make it functional.



While it's not true tiny house living, it does feel like it. It's a cozy little space where our family can be together. I do admit though, sometimes the walk to the bathroom at night through the uninsulated part of the house is a bit cold.

"I wonder which box _____ is in" is a frequently heard phrase around here. It's usually followed by, "Are you sure we kept that when we moved?" We are looking forward to making a lot of progress on the house this year, and getting into the rest of our boxes. I think when we finally start unpacking for real, two things will happen. One is that it will feel like Christmas. I've got things I love that I've forgotten I even have, such as the tiny plates on which to put one's teabag. The second is that I am going to scrutinize every item coming out of a box. Do we actually love or need that item? If we've lived without it for two years is it actually necessary to keep it?

In the meantime I am content because my family is finally all together in one state.

What would your dream house look like? Are you a tiny house person or would you rather live large?

Mom's Jedi Power: Teaching Contentment and Debt Free Principles, while Fighting the Entitlement Attitude on My Homestead

"From now on, the only words you may say when someone provides food for you are 'thank you'!! You will not complain! Do. You. Understand?" I spat out between gritted teeth at my young daughters.

It had happened again. Despite my best intentions at teaching and modeling gratitude, complaining had once again become the norm in our home.

This time, the time that pushed me over the edge of sanity towards a free-fall into the head spinning, flaming eyed beast of a mom, aka: the Dark Side, it was a complaint about which flavor oatmeal I was making for breakfast.

I snapped. 

"I am not required to feed you something different for breakfast every day. In fact, I could feed you the same breakfast, the same lunch, and the same dinner every day, and there is nothing anyone could do about it. I am only required to provide food. I only make something different because I get bored."

We had just read the Little House on the Prairie series, and so I continued, "Do you remember that winter Pa, Ma, Laura and her sisters were so hungry they ate hay? I bet they would have been glad to have  this oatmeal, or any oatmeal for that matter."

Then I went a step further; I took it global. 

"You've seen the pictures from my trip to India, haven't you? Have you seen the one of naked children washing their clothes in the gutter? Why do you suppose they are naked? Probably because they only have one set of clothes. And you feel the need to complain about breakfast?"

We have so much for which we are thankful, and yet, far too often we fall into the trap of being discontent. Whether you are eight, eighty-eight, or somewhere in between, it is all together too easy to have the same attitude as displayed by my child that morning: "I don't like that kind."

Discontentment will cause us to spend more than we should, to complain, and to be unhappy. 

So how do I combat that in myself and in my children?

Here are four things I do in my home that seem to help. 

*Practice Thankfulness and Contentment

I choose to be happy. I choose to be satisfied with what I have. It is a decision I make and strive to model and instill in my girls. We discuss thankfulness.

Each fall whenever we feel thankful we write it down and put it in the thankfulness jar and read them together periodically.

*Earn It

I am an adult. I work for my money. Then I buy what I want. That is how the world works. I don't get handed everything I want just because I want it. The same goes for our children. They work for us and are paid for jobs and have to save up for things they desire. Not only do they get a sense of accomplishment, but they have a better understanding of the value of a dollar.

Thing Two earned this trampoline at age nine. 

At only thirteen she bought her own horse.

*Discuss and Live Debt Free Principles

We don't use credit cards. We pay cash whenever possible. We talk about what it means to buy on credit or take out a loan or use a credit card. We do the math. We make suggestions like, "Why not pay yourself a car payment for a few years and then buy a car with cash instead of being tied to a car payment?" 

*Give

 It is amazing how discontent can be battled with one's own generosity. The Things and I have volunteered collecting food for the less fortunate. They spend time at the local nursing home talking with the elderly and work with the children in our church. We give of our time, money, and possessions. 

Thing One paid for half the trip to Nicaragua herself. Thanks to those of you who donated the rest to make the trip possible! While there she saw true poverty first hand and gained a greater understanding of just how wealthy we in America truly are.

What do you do to fight the entitlement attitude in your home? How are you teaching contentment? 

What Goes Around

At 2:20am last night I was suddenly wide awake after hearing the high pitched "beepbeepbeep" from our alarm that signals an outside door had been opened. I thought most likely the door leading to the garage hadn't closed all the way and the dog had pushed it open, so I went to check. I considered waking Chris, but he has to get up even earlier than I for work, so I let him sleep.

As I made my way down the dark hall I was confronted by a person turning towards me from the kitchen. 

My brain registered that it was my twelve year old daughter Carter before my body did, so I stood there clutching her arm and gasping in air as one does when surprised, and trying to slow my racing heart. 

Turns out she and Lesleigh (my thirteen year old) had decided to sleep in the back yard because it was too hot in the house. "We left you a note, Mom." 

Um yeah, maybe I would have seen that if it wasn't pitch black and the middle of the night. 

Which reminds of the time there was no note...

About three or four years ago I woke in the middle of the night, and as moms are wont to do, I checked on my girls. (At that time their ages were about eight and ten.) Carter was nowhere to be found. I was whisper calling her in a panic. I woke my husband. Finally I woke Lesleigh and asked if she knew where her sister was. "Yes", she sleepily replied, "She's in there." I looked where she was pointing. The closet!! Carter had made up a little bed on the floor of Lesleigh's closet and pulled the door nearly shut. 

When I posted that mommy nightmare on Facebook, my childhood friend posted in reply, "Karma. That's all I'm saying."

Oh, right. 

My best friend Betty and I lived around the corner from each other on a T shaped cul-de-sac. I lived on the long leg, she lived on the right top side. The very cool thing about it was that our back yards met at a corner. We learned at a pretty young age -I'm thinking I was about four or five- that we could pile stuff up and climb over to visit. 

Betty had a very cool playhouse in her back yard. And on the particular night she was referencing with her "karma" comment she and her brother were going to sleep in it. So we made grand plans. Wild plans. The best plans a five and seven year old could come up with. And on that fateful night, we *almost* got away with it. 

My grandmother was babysitting. As soon as she put me and my brother to bed and turned out the light I climbed out the window and crept stealthily across the backyard, slipped over the fence, and into the playhouse. What exhilaration! What joy! A secret sleepover! 

Our celebration was short-lived, however. Before very long, Betty's dad came out and asked if I was there. I sheepishly crawled out from under the sleeping bag and allowed him to walk me home. It turned out that my grandmother also had that need to check on sleeping children; she had noticed my absence and phoned the restaurant where my parents were dining. They rushed home and called the police, who then went door to door looking for me. To this day I remember the fear and relief together evident on my parents' faces. 

So I guess in a way I deserve those middle of the night mommy frights. 

Here's a picture off Betty and I a few years later. (I'm on the left, she's on the right) I had moved away at age seven, but we remained friends; we remain friends to this day. 

Have you had any of those scary "Where is my child?!!??!" moments? What childhood adventures did you have? I'd love to hear all about it.