Making Room(s) for a Three-Generation Family

I’ve never paid much attention to categories, labels and other classifications. But lately the term “sandwich generation” has been gaining attention, and several years ago I recognized myself as a member of this newly labeled sociological group.

I’m a wife, mother of a 6-year-old son and daughter-in-law of a lovely senior citizen who needs our care and attention. Suddenly, my role as care giver sandwiched between two generations demanded a solution.

I was already a homeowner when I met my husband, Michael, in law school. My house suited us until the birth of our son, Joshua, when Michael’s widowed mother, Rose, wanted to leave Connecticut to be nearer to us.

When she arrived, Rose rented a house in Manhattan Beach, but after a lengthy bout with flu, we all realized it would be best if she lived with us.

Three generations living under the same roof can present problems as well as rewards, so to safeguard our close relationships, we decided to add an in-law suite.

My first thought was to enlarge our existing house, but Michael, a lawyer and real estate developer, pointed out the pitfalls of overbuilding in an area that wouldn’t yield a good return on our remodeling investment.

So our search began to find just the right house. I wanted a real home--hardwood floors, lots of space for our son, modern kitchen and accommodations for Rose where her privacy would be assured. Michael’s main goal was to find a house and land that would be a very good investment after we completed our remodel.

After two years of searching for something we could afford, we found a 1,748-square-foot house on a level double lot in the Hollywood Hills.

It was already an attractive 1953 ranch-style house. A one-bedroom, two-bath house with den, it contained lovely hardwood floors, spacious rooms, lots of glass and light, and a secluded back yard filled with trees and a tropical pond.

There was also room to add a 1,300-square-foot addition, including an attached in-law suite with a separate entrance. We planned to enlarge the den and add a new bedroom for Joshua, a guest bedroom, and a utility room.

Michael, Joshua and I moved into our new house in September, 1987. Our friends thought we were crazy to move into a house and then begin major remodeling.

But Michael’s career focuses on real estate planning and development. And I have been involved in space planning in my job at Universal Studios, MCA Inc. We were confident that planning would surmount all the horrors that remodeling can hold.

One of our main objectives was to assure that the addition would blend in so well with the existing house that no one could tell it was an addition.

We knew the right way to go about a remodel--hire an architect, work with a licensed contractor only after checking his references with three of his former clients, make sure that all subcontractors have the proper licenses, bonds, and have them sign appropriate release forms.

We knew all this, and instead elected to remodel the way it happens every day--we acted as the owner/builders and hired an unlicensed contractor. In today’s economy, it’s prohibitively expensive to remodel according to the textbook.

The contractor we selected was a talented finish carpenter who had just completed a major remodel for a friend of ours. His sister worked at Universal, and I knew his entire family.

“He wouldn’t dare run out or do a bad job because his mother would kill him,” I assured Michael.

But he did run out on us several times to go fishing--really. Overall, he and the subs did an excellent job for us. We had budgeted $115,000 for the remodel, and we were only 10% over budget because we added some extras over the course of the project.

We were six months late, but couldn’t blame this entirely on our contractor since as everyone knows, the unexpected always happens when you’re involved in major construction.

In this case, it was an earthquake. Our project was proceeding through the city Planning Department when the Whittier quake hit in October, 1987.

As a result, our remodel was on hold for six months in the grading division until inspectors came to our house and we did soil tests. Fortunately, the soil was deemed suitable, and construction began Oct. 1, 1988.

We decided to remodel the kitchen first. It hadn’t been touched since 1954 and had the original appliances. We also wanted to resurface the cabinets with oak to harmonize with the honey-oak floors already in place.

Because we were living in the house, we started the remodel at the most distant point and delayed breaking through the outside wall (in what was then Josh’s bedroom) as long as possible. We were spared the horrors of dust seeping through the house.

The only real problem we encountered was the one occasion when rain poured through the wall of our sleeping 5-year-old’s room.

One major rule of remodeling is always have your contractor’s home telephone number. We did, and at midnight he and Michael were outdoors, rigging up tarps to deflect the water away from a fascinated little boy’s room.

The real frustration of our project was the slow progression of the work. We had anticipated a completion of February, 1989. As April and then May approached, and the remodel was still not finished, we decided to change our strategy. Michael stayed home, working alongside the crew. The work pace increased.

Even Joshua got involved. He’d return home from nursery school and pound nails. Not many children can say they’ve helped build their own room.

Michael’s on-site activity paid some other dividends. He was staring at the guest room wall in the framing stage, and noticed that a stately oak tree would be blocked from view. For $150 extra, a glass door was added and now our guest room has a secluded patio.

Although it took three months instead of three weeks to create Josh’s bedroom and five weeks to build the staircase leading to Rose’s 650-square-foot combined bedroom, sitting room and bath, the results were well worth the extra time. The handmade staircase is really a work of art, with dove-tail joints and 20 coats of lacquer.

We completed the entire remodel in August, 1989.

Michael’s favorite saying is that good, fast and cheap don’t exist together in the real world. You’re lucky if you get two out of three. We got one.

By paying careful attention to each detail, our remodel is a top-quality, seamless addition that makes the house look like one flowing, harmonious whole.

Rose is delighted with her living quarters, and the important contribution she adds to our lives. Josh is happy to have a grandmother to spend his afternoons with. Michael is satisfied that his investment will someday result in a handsome profit, and I’m delighted with our home.

READERS WELCOME TO SHARE THEIR REMODELING TALES Readers wishing to share their remodeling experiences should send queries or manuscripts to Real Estate Editor, Los Angeles Times, Times Mirror Square, Los Angeles, 90053.