In the ever evolving chronicles of our family’s journey of the tiny house from hell, we have a big decision to make.
But to catch you up:
- When Captain got this job offer, we lived in Western Washington. I was pregnant with The Kraken. We put our house on the market.
- The kids and I moved in with my parents in Eastern Washington. The Kraken was born several days before Captain had to report to his new job, 2.5 hours away.
- We lasted 1 month apart before deciding that living together in a tiny house was better than living separately with weekend visits.
- We found a 3 bedroom house that would work while the people renting our house in W. Wa. saved up to buy it.
- They became unexpectedly pregnant with their 3rd, necessitating a vehicle upgrading and stalling their home buying plans by at least a year.
So here were are, in this tiny house that we only planned on being in for 12-18 months, facing the possibility of being here for much, much longer. The neighborhood is great. We are right next to Cabin Girl’s school. But…
There are sugar ants. EVERYWHERE.
The a/c went out. Temperatures have been consistently in the triple digits, the siding on this house is aluminum, and we have 3 window units that don’t work simultaneously, because the house can’t support that much current. Keeping our house cool consistently flips the breaker, shutting down power to the entire south side of the house.
Did I mention that our family of 6 shares the single washroom?
The dishwasher wasn’t cleaning the dishes in the top rack. We would have to wipe them out whenever we unloaded it. Then, it died. It took a few days but it was finally replaced, with an older, louder version, baskets rusting through, but hey, at least everything gets clean the first time through…
Only. One. Bathroom.
As I am writing this our house is 81 degrees with all of the lights off and anything not in use unplugged so that the computer can be on while the a/c in the living room and the kids’ room will stay running.
We’re getting what we’re paying for though. And yes, our landlords are aware of everything. We nag them quite a bit.
Rent is cheap, there’s no denying that perk. But it is a perk that I am no longer interested in.
We are a family at each others’ throats. We’re always hot, in various states of undress, and crabby from always being hot. There is no separation for anyone. No designated space for the kids to play and be kids. If they play in their room, it’s in the scant 12 square feet of open space between beds and dressers. If they play in the living room it gets in the way of daily happenings. It’s too hot to play outside.
So, where do we go from here?
Dare we seek out more expensive, less cramped housing, slowing our own savings to a trickle and prolonging purchasing our forever home?
Or do we buckle down and bear it through the next two months of serious heat, until winter when the blankets will come out to cover the poorly insulated windows and everyone wears socks and sweaters 100% of the time because of the cold floors beneath our feet?
I have already made my decision, but I feel guilty for it. We have a roof over our head and we are together. It is, as I said when we were living apart, all I needed. Truly, in the grand scheme of things that’s true.
But I also need my sanity, and that is slipping away faster than the cool air escaping through the gaps around the front door.