As a kid, I had plenty of dreams. I yearned of flying, meeting Charlie Sheen (for real; I blame Lucas, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Major League), becoming a veterinarian (fail), becoming a music therapist (closer!), traveling the world, learning the cello.
If I could talk to my younger self, never once would I have believed, at 40, that one of my greatest dreams would come true… and it would be having a mudroom.
Sometimes, a girl has to go big or go home.
We’ve loved our house since moving in nine years ago; it’s just the right size for us, and felt especially just-right after The Great DeClutter of 2015. Still, “just right” means “jam-packed” and “not a lot of storage,” plus the house lacked a practical entryway.
This bore itself out like so:
- We had to put things in odd places (dog kennels in the kitchen and dining room; coats hung on kitchen cabinets; paper towel stored in the garage; wet swim suits draped over dog gates; sports bags hung on railings)
- The outdoor stuff that would normally be kept together was spread all over (gloves and hats: closet; winter boots: basement; hockey gear: dining room; coats: front hall)
- School items were in at least three different locations, despite my attempts to create systems that helped us out
- The kitchen floor was ALWAYS FILTHY because it was the path of least resistance to the backyard, bicycles, and toys. I tried towels. I tried mats. I tried a little hedgehog boot cleaner guy. But when three dogs and two children tromp straight from the yard/grass/garage into the kitchen 3976 times per day, the floor is simply unfit for habitation basically all of the time
- Rochester mud season lasts approximately 14 months a year. ‘Nuff said.
The dog kennel started off in the kitchen – a fur trap that also took up a heckuva lot of space.
We eventually moved it to the dining room… where it was still a fur trap and also encouraged us to use it for storage (see above: baskets, boxes, and guitar cases on top of the kennel that’s squished in the corner).
My carefully constructed school systems were probably as good as we could get, given the parameters…
… but it was still a pain having to cross-reference the kitchen and the front hall, not to mention that, organized or not, as the girls g0t older and their stuff got bigger, the front hall seemed to shrink.
And then there were these brilliant organizational hacks.
Feel free to pin.
Sports bags hanging from the railing – an improvement, believe it or not, from storing them in the dining room.
Nick’s and my coats (and purses) hung on the kitchen cabinets just inside the garage door. Note the white multi-hook-thingy upon which the orange jacket is hanging; WE TRIED, Y’ALL.
Since forever, my grandma (Phoofsy) would bemoan that our house was too small for us. Every visit, we’d hear the same refrain – not enough space, too much stuff – and were told that, really, we needed to move. Since forever, we’d laugh and assure her that our house was perfect for us – if we only had a mudroom, all of our woes would disappear.
You ask, CAN ONE ROOM REALLY BE SO MAGICAL?
YES. YES IT CAN.
This – wanting a mudroom – began as a one-off statement, became a pipe dream, and eventually took over our fanciful If We Could Afford It discussions. As “wanting a mudroom” stretched on for years, it became a real goal. I researched. I schemed. I pinned. I pined. At last, after saving and planning and designing and meeting with architects and contractors, we began our formal house addition/remodel this past spring.
Folks, angels rode unicorns across the yard. You probably heard our jubilation from wherever you are.
In less than two months, we went from this (garage abutting the house, going right into the kitchen):
… to this (garage “moved over” and a mudroom inserted between it and the kitchen).
(Technically, this is like 4 months later – which explains the overgrown trees and the drought-weary lawn…)
The outside is so lovely, you guys! The contractor (who was amazing) matched the paint perfectly, there are new gutters everywhere. and the roofline is so cool.
And now we have a plain white door that is just begging to be decorated for the fall (and Christmas and Valentine’s Day and if I can find anything that screams Winter Solstice you bet I’m gonna do it. Pinterest page: added).
The back looks swell too:
No, we still haven’t removed the sticker from the door’s window. Why rush?
We hadn’t felt that there was anything wrongwith the original garage interior – but the final plan more or less called for a full remodel. Considering that we didn’t even know our garage was lacking… this is pretty fantastic.
Aside from looking clean and shiny, the best part is that it’s a few feet wider, which means we can fit both cars (at the same time – holla!) and the scooter and even open all four doors on both cars, something that was previously impossible. HAVE MERCY.
Instead of a banged-up door with pock-marked, blue-paint-tested drywall leading right into the tile kitchen…
… we now have smooth, pristine walls – and a new, up-to-fire-code door (important, no?) leading into the mudroom (!!).
You can kind of see it, can’t you?? Is it not already incredible??
BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE.
In fact, there’s the best of all – the reason for this whole endeavor:
The mudroom itself, complete with cubbies (omg!!) and shelves and a closet and hooks and cubbies (have I mentioned the cubbies?). Due to other projects, our contractor had to finish this part nearly two months after completing the rest of the construction… But Sweet Fancy Moses, was it worth it.
Are you ready?? Okay. Deep breaths.
After all the searching and measuring and pinning and discussing and dreaming, I present you: The Mudroom.
When you come in from the garage, instead of slopping into the kitchen, you dance on air into this:
CAN YOU EVEN!!
Not gonna lie: I feel like a better human being when I’m in this room.
Look! All of the girls’ school papers are now in one spot (omg) on the kitchen door; no more checking in several locations! My favorite little nook is the corner where the cubbies meet the kitchen door because of the adorable chalkboard/corkboard/keyhook thing that Nick hung.
The dog kennel is on the left (no longer in the dining room – HALLELUJAH), with our dog accoutrements on the shelves (!) above it, along with the paper towels and toilet paper (no more garage-dusty cloths, thanks). After moving everything, we even have a whole empty cupboard now. We are so fancy.
And the cubbies. THE CUBBBBBBBIIIIIIEEEEESSSSS.
I sometimes contemplate curling up and just sleeping right here, it’s that beautiful.
Do you know what there is space for? ALL OF THE STUFF. We – every one of us – has room for our coats, hats, bags, shoes, winter gear, and whatever else our hearts desire. In one place! CAN YOU IMAGINE!!
That door over there with the windows is the cute white one which leads to the driveway (and the Arbor Day decorations). Between the doors? The new space for all of The Systems! Family calendar, kids’ calendar, extra room for holding papers and writing notes and drawing inappropriate pictures! Hot diggity dog!!
That superb little table was a Home Goods steal that makes us look all reclaimed wood chic (that’s what I’m telling myself).
Here’s the view when you walk in from the driveway (after passing the Grandparents Day decorations). The stuff on shelving in the back isn’t pretty, but man, is it functional. Oh – and now we’ve got loads of hooks on which to hang our bathing suits, towels, sports bags, and snowsuits.
Go ahead. Pin it. I am.
(Cute CCI pup not included.)
The pièce de résistance? This delicious sign (above the window), courtesy of my mama.
Not only is the room SO SO SO PRETTY and functional and SO LOVELY – it actually does what it was intended to do! All of our outdoor things are finally in one place! The dog stuff is together – and nowhere near where we eat! Our railings are clear enough to actually grasp! The school supplies are easy to see and find! It feels tidier, smarter, like we can actually handle life’s hard things and have fun in the process. We finally have some space in the rest of our abode to feel a little less boxed in; the entire downstairs feels like a different, spacious home, which is its own bit of marvelous sorcery.
And the kitchen floor? NOT. DIRTY. Because the dirt gets trapped in the mudroom (obvs).
So, no. It’s not the cure for cancer or de-stigmatizing mental illness or saving refugees. But this one room has made our just-right house as perfect as we ever imagined; and, in so doing, has made us as happy here as we’ve ever been. Phoofsy would be giddy.
If you can’t find me, I’m probably in the mudroom. We may even celebrate Thanksgiving in there. Come on over; we’ve got places to hang your coat!