I think you’ll love getting to know Jennifer. She was living in the big city, working in publishing, never thinking she’d go back to the small home town she grew up in. But when she had kids, she started to feel that urge to return “home.” Her parents are still young and vibrant and love their grandkids, and because of the distance, Jennifer didn’t get to see them as often as she liked.
So Jennifer found a lovely 70s rambler in her home town, moved her family, and began to tackle updates to make it feel just right for their family. The house is so lovely, you’re not going to want to miss one bit.
Hi! I’m Jenn, a freelance writer and bibliophile who loves organizing anything, bingeing British television, sharks, and vintage treasure-hunting. I live with my wonderful husband Nick, a career middle school English teacher, who abhors crowds and waiting in lines, but loves the Boston Red Sox, zombie movies, gardening, and his family. We live with our two little boys, Taber (7) and MacIntyre (3).
Taber is exacting, curious, and very, very smart. His little light is always on, and it’s like a blinding megawatt bulb. Taber has always had a vision for what he wants and a plan to make it happen. He is exactly like me in that way. He’s a lovely big brother. MacIntyre, or Mac, as we all call him, is sweetness personified — cuddly, affectionate and so empathetic. He rounded out our family dynamic in the most perfect way. His default setting is joyful and it takes a lot to move that needle southward. Both boys love 80s era Michael Jackson, dinosaurs, Legos and sneaking into the same bed to sleep every night.
We live in Ballston Lake, NY, which is a small town upstate in Saratoga County. People will know Saratoga Springs for the world famous horse racing that takes place here every summer and its storied history as a health retreat where people have come for more than two hundred years to “take the waters.” We have mineral-rich natural springs here which are believed to be beneficial to one’s health.
We don’t live in the city proper, but take great advantage of all it has to offer, like a true downtown with great shops and restaurants, a fabulous state park with a well-known concert venue (SPAC), the New York City Ballet in the summer, and Victorian era pools and spas. Saratoga is called “the summer place to be” because of the huge draw of the horse racing, but it’s a pretty great place to live any time of the year.
Ballston Lake itself is a nice mix of suburban and rural. We live in a developed neighborhood but there’s a horse farm right down the road. We chose to settle here because we knew we could enjoy Saratoga from the periphery, without having to pay downtown prices or settle for a smaller yard.
I love our neighborhood. It was established in the late 70s, and many original buyers are still here, though we are part of a new wave of younger families buying into it. It’s the kind of place where the doorbell rings and next thing you know there’s a gaggle of kids on the lawn playing soccer or hunting for toads. The volunteer fire department tows Santa in on his sleigh every winter to deliver candy canes to the kids. People seem to look out for one another, and I appreciate the relative safety and tranquility of life here.
We had quite a journey to making this place home. I am originally from Upstate New York. I grew up in a small village about 20 minutes from where we live now. But then I left for college at age 18, and pretty much never came back. I met my husband at the end of my freshman year at the University of Rochester where we were both students. I ended up spending several college summers working for his family’s businesses in Rockport, MA.
Nick graduated a year ahead of me and began his tenure with Teach for America in the Bronx. That worked out perfectly for me as I knew I wanted to go into book publishing, and New York was the place to be. We lived and worked in our separate fields in New York City until we decided we’d had enough of the Big Apple. We both loved coastal Massachusetts and I knew I could stay in book publishing by commuting to Boston, so we made the move to Salem, MA.
Yes, that Salem — witches, Hawthorne, and Halloween. We loved Salem. That’s where I became a wife and a mother and a homeowner and a children’s book publicist and then a stay at home mom. Salem is funky and fun — incredibly liberal and inclusive, beautiful and historic, and the most fun place to live in October. But after I had my second son, the little voice in my head that had always whispered “home” to me became a persistent and ever-louder call.
I’m an only child and not only do I love my parents, but I really like them too. They are young and full of energy and spirit, and so very dedicated to me and my husband and our kids. We all made a tremendous effort in the ten years we lived in Salem to stay in close contact. We rarely went longer than a month without seeing them, and we put a ton of miles on our respective cars during those years.
As my little boys grew, the drive east away from m parents became harder and harder. I’d start to well up when our car would hit the Berkshires and could no longer pick up the Albany radio stations. I longed for the ability to call my Mom on a hard day and have her swing by for a cup of tea. I wanted my Dad to go to my son’s soccer games. I wanted to be able to pop over with soup when they got the flu.
It wasn’t so much the prospect of future years, and my parents’ genuine old age, and how I would care for them, that kept me up at night — it was all these golden years now spent far away from them. The prime time of my sons’ lives when they want to be with their family members more than their friends. These years in the weeds of parenting when my husband and I are overworked and underslept and in desperate need of date nights. I had the two most willing and trustworthy babysitters in the world at the ready — just three and a half hours west.
There were other undeniable practical factors at play as well. I had become a stay at home mom after Taber was born and no longer need proximity to a major city. The housing market in coastal MA is, in a word, bananas, and we were desperate to get out of our condo and into a single family house.
Where we were living, a fixer-upper in need of serious TLC would have been hard to find for less than $400,000.00. And that did not guarantee you a good school district or a yard. My husband and I are not fancy car people or luxurious vacation people or expensive jewelry people, but we are house people. It was important to us both to raise our kids in a nice home in a nice area where we could relax and entertain and watch our family grow.
After a lot of conversation and compromising, my husband began to understand what was at play for me, and generously agreed to move to Upstate NY.
It was a whirlwind of him applying for new teaching jobs, and weekends of speed-round house hunting, but he secured a new position and our wonderful realtor found us our current home. It was one of those cliché real estate experiences. We walked in and we just knew. I am to this day amazed that we could see passed the wallpaper and paneling and carpets, but it was like we both had X-Ray vision. We could only see potential — good bones and lots of space. We immediately knew we could love this house back to life.
Prices here in Ballston Lake are (at least to us!) great. We bought our current home for only a fraction more than what we sold our 1400 square ft. condo for in Salem. A house like ours would have been simply out of our reach back in coastal Massachusetts.
It was not easy to leave the wonderful life we had in Salem. We had beloved family and friends there. I had an amazing “village” of mom friends and a book club and a weekly yoga class. My husband loved his school and students. And I miss the ocean like a long, lost friend. But this was the right move for us.
We take full advantage of everything that I daydreamed about before: the lower cost of living, the excellent public school system, and the ability to share our family life with my parents and extended family. My husband and I get more breaks and dates than since before having kids, and my parents’ lives are richer and more joyful for their proximity to their grandchildren. And my kids are the ultimate beneficiaries.
We’ve really settled into life here now, two years post-move. My husband found the teaching job we hope he’ll have until retirement. I have a wonderful group of girlfriends and more time for and momentum in my career as a writer than ever before. The boys are just blossoming.
It’s also been amazing to discover what a vibrant, creative, interesting part of the world Upstate New York is now. When we moved, I started a public Instagram account called @wecangohomeagain, to get myself in-the-know about cool businesses and places and people, since I had been away so long. There are so many brilliant creatives living and working here, from the Hudson Valley to the Adirondacks. I feel very fortunate to have had this rare opportunity to rediscover my roots.
After living in a 100+ year old antique house in Salem, my circa 1978 house does not seem old, though it needed a lot of cosmetic love and updating. But as my Dad who has always worked in remodeling and home building said, you know what’s behind the walls in a home built after 1975. No horse hair plaster here. I have always loved the charm of an older home and I adore historic details — intricate mouldings, marble fireplaces, claw-foot tubs — but I don’t adore lead paint and old plumbing and drafty roofs that cause ice dams.
I never would have pictured myself in a split-level ranch, but our house is just so livable. It was planned really well — it kind of sprawls. There is ample room for all of us to disperse to separate corners or gather together, depending on our mood. We have a living room and a den. A formal dining room and a breakfast room. Enough bedrooms for me to have an office/guest room for my writing work. There’s a big playroom for the boys.
I love the many bay windows and generous light in the house. I love that we have central air and a fireplace (my first time ever having either!). And the books. Oh how I love having room for all my books. When a publishing professional and an English teacher get married, books just kind of… happen. They are so important to me so having space for them throughout the house is fantastic.
We still have many plans for this house. Our upstairs bathroom needs a complete rehaul. I hate our kitchen floors. We need to landscape our backyard and hope to put in a big deck. But I’m ok with it. I like the idea of slowly going through the rooms and working our way to better. I find a lot of satisfaction in each project we undertake here because we are doing it ourselves, with my Dad’s guiding hand. My husband’s skills grow all the time and I’m so proud of every renovation.
I feel like we’re in a relationship with our home — we take care of her and she takes care of us. It’s a symbiotic and loving arrangement.
One of the cruxes of my motherhood experience is that I don’t embrace the chaos, unless absolutely forced to. I like order and organization. I struggle mightily with letting go of having a perfectly picked up, decorated, always clean home. I’ve learned that I cannot live without neatness and organization, but also that I don’t want to be a stressed-out harpy yelling at my kids for not putting their dinosaurs in the correctly labelled, perfectly coordinated rugby-striped bin.
I’m not trying to have any “Mommy Dearest” wire hanger moments over here. For me it’s all about walking that delicate line of not ceding my home to the primary-colored plastic mayhem of kid-dom, while avoiding setting completely unrealistic expectations of the people I love most in the world.
My boys are not destructive kids — they’ve never colored on the walls or broken the furniture. They care about their bedroom and having a cool lamp or special pillows. But they would much rather take out ten toys at a time than pick up as they go. I have to remind them a million times a day to put up their art projects or place their shoes in the shoe basket. My hope and goal is that they feel comfortable and happy in their house and that I’m fostering in them a respect for their environment and belongings. And maybe even a passion for expressing themselves in their personal space.
I think my best strength as a mom comes from the effusive and unabashed expression of my love for my children. I love my boys very loudly and proudly. I use every love language at my disposal to show it. I tell it with my words and with my body. I show it with my interest in who they are and what they have to say. I write it in their special birthday letters and in the essays I publish. I give it with my time.
My love for those kids is the truest part of me. I feel like it’s in the marrow of my bones. I know that they know how abundantly they are loved by my and their father. I am very fortunate that I was raised by parents who were so emotionally intelligent and generous with their love. I believe it’s a skill they taught me.
I hope Taber and Mac will remember all the carefully curated birthday parties (I’m looking at you Taber’s “Eastern Coral Snake 6th Birthday Party” complete with homemade snake cake). I hope they will remember our Friday night tradition of making homemade pizzas and popcorn and cuddling up with a movie. I hope they will remember how they begged to share a bedroom when they didn’t have to, and how they inevitably ended up cuddled together like puppies in the same bed.
I hope they will remember planning our vegetable garden every year and the thrill of hauling up the first cucumber or carrot. I hope they will remember all the books we surrounded them with and the music we danced to and the way we hung their art like it was more beautiful than anything in the Louvre. Because it was. I hope they will remember that this home was their sanctuary from the world, and that to cross the threshold of our front door was to return to the place where they were always wanted and seen and understood.
I hope they will forget every time I lost my cool about Lego pieces on the floor and markers with missing tops and the time I screamed until my lungs burned when I found a baby flying squirrel burrowing in their play tent. (That was today, reader. Today, as I sit here writing this.)
I love everything about living with my kids. I love the laughter and the silliness and how you are simply not allowed to take yourself that seriously in the presence of a child. They are little agents of unstudied joy with fantastic innate B.S. radar. I love rediscovering the simple pleasures of life through the experiences of my kids. I love the way children marvel at things. I wish adults experienced a fraction of the wonder life holds for kids. There is so much magic in the world, and they light it all up for me — from music to books to the wonder of an extra scoop of whipped cream on your sundae. Little miracles, each one.
I wish I had believed that truly, everything is a phase. Sleepless nights, potty training, picky eating, an aversion to dogs, clinginess, back-talk… It’s just for now. It won’t be forever. I wish I had better understood and practiced the importance of balance. Go out with your girlfriends, go on date nights with your husband, go to yoga, write that article. Be a whole human.
You’ll be a better mother for servicing all the “non-mom” parts of your psyche. Worry less, write it all down, hold that baby as long as you damn well want to, and listen to your instincts. Rarely will they steer you wrong. They might even take you home.
Thank you, Jennifer
What a beautiful home. Jennifer has really infused it with an East Coast sensibility that feels lived in and collected. There are so many great and lovely details that caught my eye.
I think so many of us can relate to the idea of coming home. I was convinced as a young adult that I was leaving my home town and never coming back. And now I am happily settled about 30 minutes north of where I grew up. There is something about having kids of your own that makes you want to be close to family and things that are familiar.
Do you live close to the place you grew up? Or have you created your own home in a different part of the country or the world? How do you stay connected to friends and family when there is great distance between you? How do you give your kids a sense of home wherever you are?
The Upstate New York Navy Blue print
Rugby Striped bins in the playroom
Would you like to share your home in our Living With Kids series? It’s lots of fun, I promise! (And we are always looking for more diversity in the families we feature here. Single parents, non-traditional parents, families of color, LGBT parents, multi-generational families. Reach out! We’d love to hear your stories!!) Email us at firstname.lastname@example.org.