Extreme Downsizing

Two years ago Debbie and Jim Ward had a bad case of the-grass-is-always greener.

The couple had built their dream home in Bethesda, Md. With six bedrooms, six bathrooms and nearly 6,000 square feet of living space, it was everything they should have wanted in a home. Yet they found themselves looking longingly at the house across the street, which had a nicer, more kid-friendly back yard.

It was their typical MO, Debbie says. Since age 14 she's never lived in the same house more than three years. Like her parents, she and her husband tended to view houses the way corporate climbers view careers: if you aren't moving up every few years, there's something wrong. "We were the ultimate 'House Lust' people," says Debbie, who contacted me after reading my <$ ----="================================" --------="========" ------="======" ---------="====" ------="====" ----------="====">recently published book of the same name. "Two years after we built this house, we had angst it wasn't perfect."

But in recent months they've made a giant transition that fundamentally changed the way they view houses. It began in early 2006, when Jim was awarded a grant to travel the country raising public awareness of <$ ----="====================================" --------="========" ------="======" ---------="====" ------="====" ----------="====">disability rights issues. Debbie dreaded the thought of his spending long weeks on the road, shuttling between airports and hotels while she cared for their two sons, now aged 4 and 2, by herself.

To avoid that the couple had a radical idea: what if they sold their Bethesda home, bought a top-of-the-line RV, and the whole family traveled for Jim's work together? For $150,000 they purchased a <$ ----="=====================================" --------="========" ------="======" ---------="====" ------="====" ----------="====">Fleetwood Discovery recreational vehicle—which, with its full-wall slide-outs, measures 370 square feet. They packed only what they needed and loaded everything else into 19 crates that now lie in a storage facility. Then, trailed by a second RV used to host the disability-awareness events, they started driving.

Friends thought they were crazy—and weren't shy about telling them so. "What are you doing to your children?" wrote one, whose attitude—that children deserve a stable home that doesn't move between campgrounds every few nights—was hardly unique.

But after more than 25,000 miles the family's attitude about how much space they really need—and at what expense—has been transformed. "I'd always thought a big house was what you should get, especially if you're paying a decent price for it—that's the right way to live," Jim says. "This had taught me a lot about downsizing and <$ ----="=================================" --------="========" ------="======" ---------="====" ------="====" ----------="====">simplicity." While Debbie admits missing her dishwasher, she says, "Everything we need is right here, and we're within arm's reach of each other."

Living in tight quarters has made the family much closer, the parents agree. Jim says his early discomfort in driving such a large vehicle has eased, and even the unpleasant parts of RV life—like <$ ----="===========================================================" --------="========" ------="======" ---------="====" ------="====" ----------="====">emptying the septic tank—aren't really that bad.