Our First House: Before & After

(Note: most of the before photos are from the original listing when we bought the house, and all of the after photos are what our photographer, Terry Iverson, took right before we went on the market.)
Front Before
Front After

{Changes made}

Nothing major... just landscaping maintenance and getting the trees trimmed back

Living Room After

{Changes made}

Nothing major... ahead of going on the market we took down our massive TV and decluttered the bookcases and mantle

Dining Room After

{Changes made}

- Painted the same color as the living room to make it feel more like one big space

- New curtains and hardware

- Ahead of going on the market we gave the main section of the buffet a new coat of paint so it would shine at the showings

Kitchen before
Kitchen after

{Changes made}

We upgraded all of the appliances except the dishwasher. You can't see it in this photo, but we also upgraded the refrigerator from a white side by side to a stainless steel with french doors with a pull out freezer drawer. It was roomy and wonderful.

We also replaced all of the cabinet hardware, which made a much bigger difference than I anticipated considering it only cost us about $100.

Landing Before
Landing After

 {Changes made}

Got rid of that hideous yellow and painted the whole area a nice neutral color

Sun Room before
Sun Room after

{Changes made}

This is one of the most changed rooms in the whole house, and you can get all the details here!

Guest Bedroom before
Guest Bedroom after

{Changes made}

It's amazing what a coat of paint will do! We got rid of that icky dark blue and painted the room one of my favorite colors ever, Benjamin Moore Woodland White. It's this super soft pale green and I love how it completely transformed the room.

We also replaced the outdated window treatments with simple roman blinds.

Guest Bathroom before
Guest Bathroom after

{Changes made}

You can't see it in either picture but we replaced the gross crooked builder grade round bulb light fixture with something much prettier (and level!)

We also gave the wainscoting another coat because whoever originally renovated this bathroom only gave it one coat and you could see the bare wood peeking through. Shame shame.

Nursery before
Nursery after

{Changes made}

This room still makes me so happy. :-) You can read about all the changes we made here.

Master Bathroom before
Master Bathroom after

 {Changes made}

Ah yes, the saddest master bathroom of all time. It's so tiny! It's definitely the thing I miss least about our first house. We were pretty limited in what we could do here, but we did give it a lighter paint color (Benjamin Moore Pearl River).

We also took the shelves out of that nook to the right of the shower and installed towel hooks and a basket, that way we could keep the walls clear and make it feel just the tiniest bit bigger.

Master Bedroom before
Master Bedroom before
Master Bedroom after

{Changes made}

Let's be honest here, one look at the bedroom before and it's not hard to believe that the owners before us got divorced. From the paint, to the ceiling fan, to the TV where the vanity should be, it was all just plain bad.

The first thing we did was paint the walls the same Benjamin Moore Pearl River gray that's in the bathroom. We also gave the whole wall with the closets and vanity a fresh coat of white paint. The top to the vanity was bare wood before and it really came together once we painted it white.

We also replaced the old wooden ceiling fan (it had a plastic unicorn head at the end of it's pull string, I kid you not), the window treatments, and installed sconces on either side of the bed.

Basement before
Basement before
Basement after
Basement after

 {Changes made}

The basement was a huge labor of love, and I'm glad for it because by the time we moved we were spending the majority of our evenings down there.

We immediately replaced the Costco washer and dryer with my dream front loading washer and dryer. They almost made doing laundry fun.

We also tore out all of the remnants of old walls that used to be down there as well as the ceiling tiles. (I love how hours and hours of work end up getting packed into one small sentence.)

We installed carpet tiles when I was 8 months pregnant, and turned the space into a multi-use family room, with tv, crafting, and play areas. Jared even had a keezer (it's like a kegerator) down there! It wasn't fancy, but functionally the space really worked for us.

Backyard before
Backyard before
Backyard after
Backyard after

{Changes made}

The backyard was Jared's pet project for the 2+ years we lived there. He worked his tail off weekend after weekend, and it shows. He ended up creating so much more space for us back there, including areas for grilling, a garden box, and a fire pit. We moved before the weather got nice, and I would have loved to see it one more time in full bloom.

Whew! That's it! 2 years of hard work packed into one post. If you have questions about resources or anything else, just shoot me a comment or email.

love letter to a house

our new home!

Our house officially goes on the market tomorrow. We've worked so hard at getting it ready the past few weeks... it has been decluttered, staged, and cleaned within an inch of its life. We are tired. But we're really happy with how it looks, and are crossing everything we've got that all our effort pays off. As part of going on the market, our agent (the amazing Linda Muter... if you're selling or buying in Portland I can't recommend her more highly) asked us to write a letter for potential buyers to read when they come to tour our house. I put it off as long as I could, afraid of the emotion it might unleash, but I'm happy to say I got it done with exactly zero tears shed... perhaps I'm just too exhausted at this point to cry, or my trusty detachment coping mechanism is finally kicking in. Anyway, here it is...

Dear Potential Buyer,

Welcome, and thank you for touring our house!

We knew this was the house for us – our first house – within minutes of walking in the door and we hope you have the same reaction. That was two and a half years ago, and we’ve only grown to love it more with time. From the built-ins, to the molding, to the original doors… the little details of this house give it so much character and have really made it feel like home for us. We love decorating it for the holidays, stringing lights around the trees out front, and hanging stockings over the fireplace. And in the summer we love sitting on the front porch with some home brew, or spending lazy Sunday mornings eating pancakes in the sun room.

But for as much as we love this house, what we’ll miss most about living here is the neighborhood, and especially the neighbors. Within days of us moving in they brought wine, beer, and cookies and made us feel so welcome. We get together for BBQs and holidays… an egg hunt at Easter and a pretty epic 4th of July block party complete with a bounce house and bike parade for the kids.

And being so close to Fremont means that we’re within walking distance of restaurants, coffee, shops, and a market. It’s a rare weekend we aren’t up at Bumblekiss for french toast or at Cha Cha Cha! for burritos. (We can even walk to the Hollywood Library and Whole Foods thanks to a handy shortcut on Alameda.)

We feel like we really lucked out moving into this house, on this street, and we can only hope that the new buyers (maybe you!) love it as much as we have.

Best of luck in your search for a new home.

Sincerely,

Allison & Jared

So that's it... tomorrow we officially take the plunge into selling our beloved first home. I will miss our house and neighborhood more than I can say, but I'm (mostly) ready to see what our new east coast adventure has in store for us. Who knows... maybe we'll find an even better house with just as cool neighbors. I'm nothing if not optimistic. :-)

revisiting Emma's birth story

At 9 months old, Emma has officially been out longer than she was in. This milestone has had me thinking a lot about my pregnancy and her birth, so I went back and read her birth story the other day, only to find myself disappointed with what I had written. Or more, what I hadn't written. Which is funny because that was a loooong post. But it read very technical to me... like I went into labor, and it hurt, and then I was in labor some more, and then hours passed and days, and then, and then, and then... what was missing was what I was thinking and feeling during those 63 hours. I think at the time I wrote it I was still very caught up in how it all went down... I felt this great responsibility to document every step of the process, and in doing so failed to capture the emotion of it all. So, here's take 2... the version I want to read when I think about that day, and the version I hope to someday share with Emma...

Oh my god. That's the first thought I had when I found out I was pregnant. We had been trying for months, though it felt like years at that point, and I was in disbelief at what I saw. Two lines. Two lines! As my eyes welled up with tears, I rushed downstairs to tell Jared... We're going to have a baby. What? It's positive? Yes! It's positive. Holy crap! We hugged, we kissed, we cried. Then the anxiety hit me. And there it stayed for most of my 1st trimester. What if it was a false positive? What if these cramps aren't just growing pains? Is that spotting? If there's one good thing about morning sickness (or 8 to 3 sickness, in my case) it's that it's a nice little daily reminder that you are, in fact, definitely still pregnant. Even so, I tried not to get my hopes up until I hit my 2nd trimester. I didn't buy anything for the baby, I didn't start planning the nursery. And then we saw her.

She was just an it at that point... but she was perfect. And more importantly, she and I were both healthy as could be. I could breathe. It was right around that time I stopped getting sick, and got some of my energy back. I was finally feeling well enough to start being that hip mama-to-be I'd imagined I'd be before morning sickness knocked me on my butt for 2 months. I started going to prenatal yoga, laughing with other pregnant women about our aches, pains, and strange bodily functions. I retired the last of my normal jeans and bras. I started rubbing my growing belly all day every day. I was pregnant, and I reveled in it.

It was around that time that I dove head first into the world of natural birth, and dragged Jared along with me. When I first got pregnant I thought Well, maybe I'll try for a natural birth and just see what happens once I'm in it. But I'm so not a "see what happens" kind of person. That initial thought quickly turned into switching from an OB to a midwife, and before I knew it we were sitting in weekly hypnobirthing classes visualizing opening up like a flower and watching videos of hippy women seemingly enjoying labor and delivery. The more we learned, the more we believed that natural birth would be the safest and gentlest way to bring our baby into the world... it was to be the most important physical endeavor of my life and I was training my little heart out.

As my due date approached I grew increasingly uncomfortable. I loved being pregnant, but I was getting more than a little anxious to get this show on the road. I was ready. Well, as ready as I could be. And I felt strong. I felt more connected to my body than I ever had before and I had the blissful confidence of someone who had no idea what she was in for. Jared and I filled those long days of waiting by going out to dinner, seeing some live music, and basically doing all the things people told us we wouldn't have time for anymore once our baby was born. They couldn't have been more right.

The night after Emma was due, I went into labor. We were sitting on the couch watching TV and I started having contractions that just felt different. Before I went into labor I longed to know what those contractions would feel like. How would I know when it was really time? All I can say is that I just knew. They were a little stronger than Braxton Hicks, a little more real. They eased on and gloriously off, making them feel manageable. I sat there secretly timing my contractions, not wanting to get Jared all excited if this was just false labor. After a half an hour or so I decided to pipe up. So... I think I'm in labor.

My contractions were strong, but infrequent. At 10 minutes apart it looked like this was going to take a while, so we decided to try to get some sleep. I knew I wouldn't really be able to sleep. Aside from the pain and pressure, my baby was coming. How could I sleep? Neither of us really slept that night, and by morning my contractions were 7 minutes apart. I figured I'd have a light breakfast, hang out for a couple of hours, and be ready to head to the hospital. This was happening. My baby was going to be born today. But shortly after breakfast my labor stalled. I was disappointed, but I knew this was common with first babies and tried to just carry on with my day and wait for labor to pick back up. We walked. I watched bad daytime tv. We ate. I had a contraction every half an hour or so. We walked some more.

Labor finally picked up again that night, this time more intense than before, especially in my lower back. Alright, now this is really happening. 10 minutes apart again. It was late. After not sleeping the night before we were so tired. We tried to sleep again. We failed again. The contractions were so intense but not getting any closer. I was exhausted and frustrated. Come on already, baby!

Morning arrived and my contractions were still 7-10 minutes apart, still intense, still shooting through my lower back. Another call to the midwife, and a new theory that our baby was posterior - meaning she was head down, but facing my tummy instead of my back. Super. Apparently when this happens the body will stall the labor to try to give the baby time to turn. We learned a variety of tricks and positions to try to encourage her to turn, but nothing was feeling like it was making a difference and my contractions were getting stronger but not closer. Nighttime rolled around and I'd now been in labor for 2 days. Any hope I had of today being the day was quickly waning. The midwife on call instructed me to do whatever I needed to do to get some sleep. She told me to try Benadryl and a bath, and if that didn't work to come into the hospital and they'd give me some morphine to knock me out. I went to lay down after I got out of the bath, and of course, not five minutes later my contractions finally started to pick up. Well, if I'm not going to get some sleep I guess I'll go have this baby. We made the call to go to the hospital. Either I was going to have the baby, or I was going to get some drugs so I could sleep.

We got to admitting, where I proudly refused the wheelchair. I remember thinking, I may have been in labor for the past 2 days, but I am not crippled. Gee, I wonder where this baby was getting her stubbornness from. We sat in triage for what felt like forever while they hooked me up to the monitor and measured my contractions. All I wanted was for them to tell me this was really happening, admit me, and get me to my room - the room where we would finally meet our baby. Something about my calm demeanor had the triage nurse thinking I wasn't very far along, and she made it clear she thought we were wasting her time. We didn't care for her very much. Finally a midwife came down to examine me. The moment of truth... She asked me how dilated I wanted to be, to which I responded, More than 1… please just let it be more than 1. She replied, How about more than 5? I was 6-7 centimeters and I could have kissed her. I was so relieved to know that I'd actually been making progress the past 2 days. I heard the triage nurse mutter under her breath that I wasn't acting like I was 6-7 centimeters dilated. Yes, that's because I am strong, and brave, and I don't feel the need to make a big dramatic production out of each contraction no matter how intense they are. That, or I'm just very very tired.

We checked into our room and they started prepping the birthing tub. Jared and I walked the halls while we waited. I wanted nothing more than to get into that warm water. But sadly, my nice peaceful water birth wasn't meant to be. Being in the tub was slowing my labor, and no amount of pain relief was worth dragging this thing out any longer. So we went back to walking the halls.

The hours passed so slowly. Each contraction was more intense than the last, each one requiring Jared to press even harder on my lower back as I breathed through it. I was making progress but it was so slow. Around 7am I called my sister. I couldn't even get a full sentence out. I heard her voice and I lost it. Tears were falling. I can't do it. I'm so tired. I'm trying so hard to be strong, but it's too hard. Her encouragement and support in that moment meant more than I can ever say. I gathered myself together, and Jared and I had a heart to heart about our options. My midwife was starting to get very concerned about my exhaustion... would I have any energy left to push after 3 sleepless nights? But I'd come so far. As a last ditch effort to move things along, Jared and I agreed to let them break my water. Please let this work. I know I said I'd be okay with getting drugs if there was no alternative but I'm too proud for my own good I really really don't want them. I felt an almost immediate difference. My contractions had become all consuming, but closer together. About 20 minutes after they broke my water I started feeling the urge to push. This was it.

I'd heard that for many women the pushing was easier than labor. Not. Even. Close. I don't know if it was because I was more exhausted than I'd been in my entire life, or because our baby still hadn't turned fully anterior. But pushing was hard. Without a doubt the most intensely challenging and painful experience of my life. But it was good pain. It was miraculous pain. It was pain that was giving life. I pushed for over an hour. I kept looking at Jared feeling like I was letting him down. He'd been more than I could have ever asked for. I could tell it was nearly unbearable for him to watch me in so much pain, and I wanted so desperately to relieve him of that. But I don't want to push anymore. I can't. I have nothing left to give. Somehow with each contraction I went deeper inside myself and mustered the strength to push longer and harder than I thought I was capable of. Finally, our baby was crowning. They told me to reach down and feel her head. I couldn't. If I stop now I won't be able to keep going. I just want to keep going. A few more pushes and her head was out. And then her body. They laid her on my chest and time stopped. Hello, my love. She was a wonder. We took in every tiny wrinkly inch of her. Our Emma Rose. I remember being so surprised at her full head of dark hair. She was so uniquely her, and she really was perfect.

We held her in disbelief that she was finally here... that after 9 months and a seemingly endless labor, we were a family. I looked at my husband holding his daughter for the first time... filled with more love than I ever imagined possible. It had all been so worth it.