My parents have been unsatisfied with our house since I was probably 9 years old. We moved in when I was around 3, they paid about $68,000 for the house, and it’s since appreciated to probably the mid-$200Ks (yay expensive Chicago housing market!).
Jan and John never intended to stay there for 26 years. They even tried to sell it at one point, but since my dad refuses to take anything less than what he thinks the house is worth (usually an extraordinary amount more than what it’s actually worth) you can see why they got nowhere.
Periodically, they abandoned the idea of moving and zeroed in on putting an addition on the house. It started with the idea of building on to the back of the house but because of a “Communist Roselle” rule that your house can only cover a certain percentage of your property, the Soderlunds had to take to the village board. In the early 90s, the village deemed the plan too grand and the plan was aborted.
Earlier this year, they decided to revisit the idea but put a twist on it: they’d build on to the front and side of the house instead of the back. Again, the Soderlunds stormed village hall and asked for a variance. After a little finagling, some stern looks to crotchety board members, they were granted their wish minus three feet.
The moral of this story is that construction began on said addition last month and Chach and I have had an unwanted front row seat for the action. Living in Ground Zero was not on the terms of the lease we signed when we moved home in March. But being good little soldiers, we decided to endure it for the sake of the cause.
I’m having a hard time conceptualizing the project, but I’ll try to explain: downstairs will have a new powder room, utility room for the washer and dryer, living room, dining room and large family room. A master bathroom will be added upstairs and they’re also completely gutting and redoing the kitchen.
Lovely right? Once it’s done, yeah. So far, the workers have built the frame of the addition, and it hasn’t affected us outside of some dust, strange men in our front yard and people slowing down to gawk at our display. The workers arrive at the house after I leave for work and leave before I get home, so I don’t really care.
Chach is a different issue. Anyone who knows Chach knows he needs his kitty sleep during the day. He can usually be found under the covers in the bed in his “his room” (guest bedroom) or in my parents’ bed. He likes it quiet, and he likes it dark. (For example, I overslept today so I interrupted his morning bedtime by having the lights and TV on in my room. In lieu of a kitty mask, he slept under the bed until I left). So the noise has greatly disrupted the prince’s sleep. Anyone who knows Chach also knows he is the personification of a scaredy cat. So when he sees people outside, he heads for the hills (a.k.a. the nearest bed with blankets).
The outside part is done, and the workers are ready to storm the inside. What this means is our living room will become uninhabitable. My dad’s “Real Housewives of New Jersey” marathons will have to be watched elsewhere since we won’t have power, and the furniture and TV will have to be moved somewhere. At some point, we also won’t have water downstairs. Scratch Laundry Saturdays and cooking dinner (power will also eventually be gone in the kitchen).
Once they start tackling the upstairs master bathroom, my parents will be evicted from their room. Their tentative plan is to move their mattress into Chach’s room (guest bedroom) and sleep there. That means Chach’s toys and his litter box have to be moved into my room.
There’s talk of us possibly relocating to my grandpa’s house in Franklin Park while he’s in Florida. This would be great for me because it would lessen my train commute by 30 minutes. I’m on board with this plan under two conditions: 1.) Just me and Chach go; and 2.) There is DVR and Internet available. However, I am concerned about the dinner situation since my mom has been making me dinner since I moved home (Spoiled? Yes, and proud of it). In all seriousness, I suppose if the slumlords/roommates came with it wouldn’t be horrible.
In the end, it really will all be worth it. Although I think Chach and I are going to discover a new meaning of the word roommates when it comes to my parents. Ugh.
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