The Story of My Childhood Home

This past year, my mom and dad sold the home in Puyallup that I grew up in. My parents, Kurt and Omma, bought the undeveloped land back in 1996. They designed and built our cherished family home on the property, and it’s where they raised me and my brother Jacob. They lived there for 27 years, and it feels surreal to think of another family living there now!

All of the life that happened in our family home is a very big part of who I am. I’ve been wanting to share a snapshot of the years my family and I enjoyed in the home, from start to finish. I hope you enjoy reading just a few of my memories, along with a brief look at what it was like for my parents to build the home and eventually sell it. 

Hope you have fun looking at the old pics, too! 

1996: The building process

2024: Getting ready to sell

A New Adventure 

In 1996 when I was six years old, my parents bought an undeveloped 1.8-acre property in the South Hill area of Puyallup. The property was at the very end of a gravel road in a quiet neighborhood, and it was very secluded thanks to the surrounding undeveloped parcels, pastures, and wetlands. 

The land felt untouched—it was teeming with trees, bushes, ferns, berries, flowers, and moss—but of course, it wasn’t. The land is on the traditional homeland of the Puyallup Tribe, where indigenous people lived for thousands of years. And when my parents bought the property, many deer, rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, coyotes, raccoons, birds (including a random turkey we saw one time), moles (which would become my parents’ archnemeses once they planted a lawn), and other critters called it their home. Loggers had also traipsed through the land at one time—giant stumps from trees that had been logged decades ago remained. 

To purchase the property, my parents first needed to sell their rambler in Frederickson, an unincorporated area in between Puyallup and Spanaway. They decided to go the “For Sale By Owner” route. The home sold way faster than expected, so my parents quickly packed our things, threw everything into storage, and we moved in with my grandparents in Spanaway.

It all felt like a big adventure to a six-year-old, especially since it meant I got to sleep on a camping cot in my grandparents’ bedroom, while my parents and brother slept in a guest bedroom. We were probably a little cramped, but to me it was a lot of fun.

Building Beginnings

Leading up to the purchase of the property, my mom and dad had visited many Street of Dreams communities to get an idea of the house they wanted to build. They designed the entire home (which involved a few napkin sketches), and my Uncle Jim who is an architect drafted up the official plans. My mom (now a retired elementary school teacher) knew another teacher who was a contractor on the side, so they worked with him to build the home. 

My dad did a lot of work on the home. He was an electrician who was licensed to do residential work, but he was mainly an industrial electrician. Let’s just say we had a LOT of light switches and outlets in our home, ha! In addition to doing the electrical work, he built the decking for the wraparound porch, and more. During the construction process, he was also working a lot of overtime, but whenever he had the opportunity, he’d head out to Puyallup to work on the house. 

On the weekends, my mom would take me and my brother to the property to hang out with my dad and take him lunch. We’d “help” by screwing on switch plates and outlet covers, collecting larger rocks from the land that would eventually become our yard (we got paid a penny a rock, it was big money), and sweeping dust and debris in the bare-bones house. But we mostly just played with scraps of wood, got really muddy, and oohed and aahed at the empty spaces that would one day become our bedrooms. 

We were supposed to be in the home by Thanksgiving of 1996, but you know how construction projects go. There was particularly bad weather that fall and winter, which included a windstorm and a freeze. It took two weeks to just dry out the house so the wood floors could be installed. 

Me and my brother in 1996 or '97. 

Finally on March 15, 1997, we moved in! The house felt enormous to a six year old. It also came with all types of creative features that made me feel like we were The Jetsons. There was a built-in vacuum system (my parents were truly visionaries, lol!), a tiny door by the wood-burning stove that provided direct access to outdoor firewood storage that my dad could load from the deck, and I even had a sink in my bedroom (more on that in a moment). There was a secret under-the-stairs “Harry Potter” room my brother and I played “house” in for hours and hours. Our home also had all kinds of other special features my parents could tell you about, but these are the things I recall thinking were especially cool. 

My Childhood Bedroom, My Sanctuary

My bedroom is on the far right.

One of my memories from when we first moved in was seeing my completed bedroom. I had pink carpet, pink walls with a wallpapered border that had bunnies and bears on it, and a walk-in closet. My parents had set up a white four-post bed that made me feel like a princess, and matching white furniture. I remember thinking, “Wow, this is amazing, and huge!” I truly felt spoiled.

The most unique feature was the sink and vanity I had in my bedroom, all to myself. Both my brother and I had sinks in our bedrooms—wild! I’ve worked in real estate marketing for over a decade now, and I still don’t think I’ve ever seen bedrooms with this specific feature. If I saw it in a home these days, I have to admit I might think it was kind of weird, but honestly it was so convenient and I loved having my own sink in my bedroom. 

My bedroom was also special in that I had a view of Mt. Rainier and spectacular sunrises in the winter when the surrounding trees had dropped their leaves. I also had a view of the backyard and the pasture behind our property, which was home to our neighbor’s horse and goat. It was pretty idyllic. I do think I knew how lucky I was at the time and there were many moments when I just savored it all, and it’s something I still really appreciate about my childhood. 

Over the years, my bedroom became my sanctuary. As a textbook introvert and homebody, I cherished my alone time at home. I would spend hours and hours in my bedroom playing with toys, reading, listening to and writing music, playing guitar and violin, crafting, and painting. The carpet in my bedroom was thankfully replaced with brand new carpet when my parents sold the home; the original carpet was covered in paint stains from all of those late nights of creativity. 

In high school, I experienced chronic illness that forced me to miss weeks and sometimes months of school. My bedroom became even more important to me. I suffered from vertigo (diagnosed as many different conditions over the years, including everything from Ménière's disease to Mal de débarquement syndrome), a special kind of hell that seemingly never ended. I had frequent migraines, debilitating panic attacks, anxiety and depression, and the list goes on (ugh!). I mention all of this because I am so fortunate that I had a safe and secure home (and bedroom sanctuary!) to always retreat to, with parents who always believed my often mysterious symptoms and did everything they could to help me (so many doctors, so many tests). I can’t imagine going through those years without their support and the warm comfort of home. 

Making a House a Home

As the years went by, my parents brought their ever-evolving vision of home to life. From the get-go, my mom and dad designed landscaping, and soon the yard was filled with all types of flowers (including huge rhododendrons), trees, and a vegetable garden. My dad was always working on some type of project (he’s one of those people who can’t seem to sit still); he helped my mom make her flower bed dreams come true, he built a greenhouse for us, and eventually added a second greenhouse and a shed for his beekeeping hobby. I will also say that my dad is one of the most creative people I know, and some of his “contraptions” looked straight out of a Rube Goldberg cartoon, hee hee.

He also built me and my brother a swing set with a treehouse, and a pool (which featured his own solar panel design!) surrounded by a deck. A patio became the setting for many outdoor meals, BBQs, and parties. We always had a place to hang out and something to do. 

My parents also had a pole building built, which included a barn area where our chickens and goats lived. We always had several pets, including dogs, cats, goats, chickens, rabbits, a hamster, and fish. My parents would often take in pets who needed a home—if a relative needed to rehome a dog or cat, or a coworker needed to find a home for a goat (lol), my parents often said yes (and then my dad was usually the one tasked with taking care of the animals, heh).

My dad with his bees.

My mom with her flowers.

Perhaps the biggest project happened several years after that initial move-in date—my parents built a large addition to the home that my grandparents’ moved into and lived in for many, many years. 

Day In & Day Out

So much of life happened here. There were family dinners and weekend breakfasts when we gathered in the dining nook, and cozy evenings in the family room watching TV. There are specific, smaller memories that really bring back the feeling of home, and if I close my eyes, these details instantly transport me back. I can hear the garage door opening, and the squeaking sound of the door swinging open as my parents got home from work. From my bedroom, I could hear when someone was coming up the stairs, and I knew who it would be just by the sound the stairs made. I can hear my mom gathering ingredients in the kitchen and turning on King 5 news as she started making dinner. I can hear my dad in the family room, opening the creaking door on the wood-burning stove to put another log on the fire. There were plenty of quiet times when I could just get lost in a book.

In the living room, I spent many hours practicing piano and violin, and in the dining room, we enjoyed many homemade meals—Christmas and Easter dinners, Burmese Kaukswe at family get-togethers, and Thanksgiving feasts. I ate a lot of awesome food at that dining table, always courtesy of my mom and her sous-chef (my dad).

I also feel really lucky my husband Ben and I got married in the backyard! On a hot August day in 2014, a small group of family and friends gathered in my parents’ backyard to join me and my now-husband, Ben. Our guests sat on bales of hay, my mom and dad walked me down the aisle, and I got to marry my best friend on the lawn where I had spent years playing and daydreaming. (Then we headed to Seattle for our reception with a larger crowd—we figured folks just want to come for the food and party anyway, ha ha ha.) 

Selling the Family Home 

Eventually, my parents were ready to downsize. My brother and I had moved on to our own homes in different cities. My grandma who still lived with them needed more and more care. The property, as you can imagine, became a lot to maintain. Also, the pasture behind our property that had provided years of privacy had been developed (luckily my parents had planted trees along the fence line years ago in anticipation of this possibility, but still). 

The general South Hill area had also changed so much (as a neighborhood does when people discover how great it is!). For those familiar with the South Hill area, when my parents bought the property in 1996, I think the Fred Meyer on Meridian Ave & 176th had only just opened, and you couldn’t access Sunrise Boulevard from 122nd yet. But in more recent years, my parents started to feel like the area had become too crowded, too busy, too congested. They had also both retired, and without kids in local schools and jobs to commute to, my parents could start to imagine what would come next.

We look like we're posing for a '90s album cover but really we are just social distancing during the pandemic.

A walk in the snow with my mom. It was around Christmastime. 

Around the same time, my mom and dad had also started to fall in love with Whidbey Island. A few years ago, my brother and sister-in-law had moved to Whidbey for work. After many visits and scoping out different cities and neighborhoods, my mom and dad were ready to get serious about selling the family home in Puyallup to move onto their next home. 

Working with a realtor to sell the Puyallup property was going to be a new experience for my parents. Decades ago, they had some negative experiences with some less-than-professional realtors. But I knew that my parents would need a lot of guidance to get through the selling process; our home of 27 years needed updates, would likely have some inspection issues, and it wouldn’t be easy to find just the right buyers. A lot about selling a home has also changed since 1996.

Tacoma Real Estate Agent Marguerite Martin, my good friend and creator of MoveToTacoma.com, was kind enough to meet with my parents to share her insights about selling a home in Pierce County. She talked with them about what they should consider about selling their home, and they mulled it all over. Marguerite doesn’t transact anymore and is a “matchmaker” for realtors and buyers/sellers, so she provided recommendations on realtors, too.

My parents decided to meet with Curtis and Megan Gibson, a wonderful husband/wife real estate team with Windermere Professional Partners in Pierce County. I’ve done marketing work for Curtis and Megan since 2015, and I was thrilled when my parents said they had decided to meet them in person. 

Curtis and Megan were of course very low-pressure, and they presented my parents with different options and ideas. Unsurprisingly, my parents decided they wanted to work with the Gibsons, and they all began to collaborate on preparing the home for listing day. 

In the meantime, my parents found their ideal home in Coupeville on Whidbey Island. Windermere Real Estate Agent Annie Cash (another one of my amazing realtor clients) helped my parents buy the home. Annie also helped my bro and his wife buy their home in Oak Harbor a couple years before. 

My parents had a yard sale, packed up their Puyallup home (no small feat after 27 years), and moved into their new home on Whidbey. Curtis and Megan managed most of the prep work on the Puyallup home. And they even hired me to help with some of the marketing—truly an honor! 

The photos below are of the home after it was staged. It looks lovely, but it’s also completely different from how we lived in it (which is typically the case once a home is staged for listing day!).

My parents weren’t in a hurry to sell their Puyallup home, and wanted to test out the market. Eventually, an attractive offer came in—another family wanted to buy the home. There were quite a few hurdles to get through, which Curtis and Megan diligently problem-solved with my parents. Thank goodness the Gibsons were there to guide the sale to the finish line! I knew my mom and dad were in good hands, and it brought me a lot of peace. It was of the utmost importance to me that my parents and their investment were protected. 

My brother Jacob and I went back to the house together after my parents had moved out to say our goodbyes. We walked through each room and walked around the property while we shared some of our memories with each other. 

Everyone’s Next Chapter

It still feels kind of strange that my parents have a new home now. For many years now, I’ve dreaded the day my parents would sell their home, and as a kid I said I would buy it from them one day. But life goals and desires change and there was a whole world outside of Puyallup, lol. 

Now, a new family I’ve never met is living in “our” home. I’m so happy for them, and I hope they love it just as much as we did. I also hope my childhood bedroom is being filled with lots of playtime and new creative energy. 

Weirdly, I seem to have adjusted to this new situation pretty quickly. It’s all good stuff even though it feels a little strange. When I visit my parents’ new home (which I jokingly call their “imposter home”), it feels like it really is their home now. And no wonder why it feels like that—it’s really people that make a home, not the house. I’ve intellectually known that, but I can really feel it now.

My parents haven’t been in their new home for even a year yet, but they’ve already gotten to work making it their own. My dad built my mom garden beds, and she’s been putting her green thumb to work. My dad set up his shop, and is building a deck. They adopted a dog and two cats from local shelters. They’ve already become avid crabbers, and head out on their boat a couple times a week to drop their crab pots and haul them up. They are retired and living it up, and we are all onto a new phase of life!