“But I’ve only ever lived here!” T cried through stressed out eleven-year-old tears as I tried to convince her that she needed to pare down her plush Pokemon menagerie to no more than a dozen. “I don’t know how to live anywhere else.”

It’s true. We built this house when her brother was still a baby, and she was no more than an idea. Thirteen years ago, we looked around our mid-century rambler full of brand new baby gear and realized that we needed more house to accommodate our growing family. So, we packed Baby K into the car and went in search of a home we could grow into, one that would last us a long time.