When we started dreaming about building our forever home, we didn’t begin with a blank piece of paper. We started with our current house—what works, what doesn’t, what drives us crazy, and what brings us joy. We looked closely at how we live day to day… the mess, the movement, the mornings before school. And from there, we started to imagine what it could feel like to design a home that really fits us—not just now, but in the years to come.

One of our biggest non-negotiables was that it had to be a single-story home with a more closed-concept layout. I’ve designed open concept homes for most of my clients, but I’ve always been drawn to the warmth and charm of older homes—spaces with just enough separation to give each room a sense of purpose. I love that feeling of moving from one space to the next and having each room invite you into something different. We didn’t want massive, cavernous spaces. We wanted cozy. Intentional. Rooted in how we live and what we value.

*I spent way too many hours playing around on ChatGPT with some of my cabinet renderings to get a photorealistic rendering.*

The kitchen is truly the heart of this house—and the whole layout was built around it. From the kitchen sink, I’ll be able to look out over our side yard, which takes up nearly an acre and will hopefully be full of Texas wildflowers every spring. It’s the kind of view that feels like a deep breath. Just beyond the dining room is the backyard and pool, where I picture summer dinners and the kids playing until the sun goes down.

I’ve always loved having a sitting room, and in our current home it gets used more than you'd think. But this time, I wanted something even more central. I saw Stephanie from @bloomingivylane share her layout one day, and when I saw that her sitting room was open to the kitchen, I knew immediately—that’s it. That’s what I want. A space where the teens can lounge and chat about their day, where puzzles can sit out, and conversations can stretch long while dinner simmers nearby. Not a formal living room. A heart-of-the-home kind of space. Warm, open, and meant to be lived in.

As we designed the kids’ rooms, we held this strange, bittersweet truth in our hands: we only have six years left with kids in our home full time. It makes me teary just typing that. So we thought about the present—what they need now—but also the future. We imagined them coming home from college, bringing friends, and one day maybe even their own little ones. Their rooms aren’t too big or too small. Just comfortable and cozy—easy to fill with the life that’s happening now, but with enough room to welcome whatever comes next.

We also skipped the typical tub/shower combos you see in most homes. Our kids just don’t take baths anymore. Emma might soak every now and then, so we added a pretty freestanding tub in her bathroom. But otherwise, they all have showers—simple, practical, easy. Same with our guest room. My parents are the ones most likely to come visit, and I didn’t want them stepping over a tub as they age. We added a walk-in shower instead—because planning for the here and now is important, but planning with wisdom for the future matters just as much.

Our primary suite in this house is actually smaller than what we have now—on purpose. Our current room is too big, and it never really felt cozy. So we made it smaller and more peaceful, with a view of the backyard and the pool. In the bathroom, one of my must-haves was a freestanding tub under a leaded glass window. And a makeup vanity in front of a window, because—let’s be honest—my eyes aren’t getting any younger, and natural light is still the best.

The mudroom will have closed storage (because I’m very aware of the chaos that comes in the door every afternoon). And the pantry? Bigger than what we have now, with a drink fridge stocked with Topo Chicos, protein shakes, and a little coffee bar tucked inside. It’s those small luxuries that make everyday life feel a little calmer.

And then there’s the porch. I’ve always wanted a screened-in porch. My husband wasn’t so sure—he was worried it would block the view. So we compromised with a motorized screen that can roll down with the push of a button. I can already picture curling up out there with a book on a chilly winter day, fireplace on, view open to the trees. I absolutely cannot wait to watch this home come to life.

I don’t know if this house will ever be featured in a magazine. That’s not the point. We aren’t building to impress. We’re building a home that feels like us. That invites people in, that holds space for quiet mornings and loud dinners and the full rhythm of real life. My prayer for this home is that it will be a place of joy, laughter, and refuge—for our family, our friends, and the generations to come. That within these walls, there will be room for grace on the hard days, beauty in the ordinary ones, and so many moments that remind us just how deeply we’re blessed.