We Transformed our Attic Space into a Teenage Bedroom- who knew moving her one floor up could make us feel closer.

For years, our third floor existed mostly as potential….which means we talked a lot about what it could be, someday.

The space was not totally raw, really. 

a glimpse into our mess...and our dog

The previous owner had framed out and drywalled weird, but cool curved walls that sort of make you feel like you are in an airbus. It is a cool thing to have, but frankly one that we found hard to define and use. As a result, it became a recreational space/ guitar room/ husband sanctuary. 

The only part of the floor that my daughter routinely used was a crawl space with a port hole window that we affectionately (still) call the barbie pit…you guessed it…because of all the barbies…

Anyway, in this particular moment, my daughter was entering highschool and the house vibe was inevitably shifting.

Homework and the accompanying hub bub stretched later into the evening… and I need to sleep at night.

Her bedroom was directly across from ours, which had always felt sweet and connected. But high school isn’t third grade. I didn’t feel like I could reasonably insist on an early bedtime anymore…and did I mention that I need sleep…like I NEED sleep.

So I got to thinking about the third floor.

It felt like the kind of space both my husband and I would have loved at that age — slightly removed, a little independent, big enough to stretch out in. It felt cool. And we were excited at the thought of being able to give her something like that.

So in the spring before freshman year, we decided to redo it.

And then, in true “us” fashion, we waited until the first week of August to begin.

Clearing It Out

Step one was emptying the space.

If you have ever had a bonus room, you know it becomes the catch-all for everything that doesn’t quite belong anywhere else. Old amps. Half-working speakers. Abandoned stuffed animals and yard sale signs. Mystery cords that fit nothing we currently own. 

We sorted, donated, tossed, and relocated. 

The music room was moved downstairs. 

The third floor was officially hers.

The Floor

The biggest obstacle was the floor.

Cold, ugly linoleum —ugh.

We briefly discussed hardwood, because...well, who doesn’t want hardwood,  but that was not in the cards for this project.

So we hired out carpet installation.

Warm. Practical.

At least it was practical until I chose off white. ..but still warm.

Paint, Plastic, and Poor Ventilation

Everything else, we did ourselves.

First we tried to paint with rollers, but we quickly gave that up and bought an industrial paint sprayer. This was a risk. But life is risk, yes? 

Before spraying, we patched nail holes, caulked the trim, sanded rough spots, and wiped everything down so the paint would actually adhere like it was supposed to.

Then we masked everything.

Plastic sheeting taped tight along the moldings. Windows covered.  Spraying paint in a low-ventilation room is not for the faint of heart. The blowback alone was crazy. We wore real masks, kept the (two) windows open, and worked in sections so the air had time to clear.

Like everything DIY, it was harder than we anticipated. But when that first full coat went on and the mismatched walls became one clean, cohesive color, it changed the entire feel of the space. It stopped looking like storage and started looking really pretty.

After the paint cured, the carpet went in and truly, the room looked so inviting and lovely.

We brought her furniture up piece by piece. Desk positioned under the best natural light. A reading chair in the corner. We kept the layout simple so she’d have open floor space for friends, for projects, for whatever high school requires these days.

The Part We Didn’t Expect

If I’m being honest, we were slightly worried about the distance.

It sounds silly, but for years her room had been across the hall. Every night before lights out, we each knocked twice on the wall. Just twice. A small ritual. A small tether.

The first night she slept upstairs, I lay there staring at the ceiling, feeling the extra floor between us.

So I grabbed a wooden dowel that had fallen off of our spindle bed and tapped twice against the plaster ceiling.

From above: two taps back. Seems she's adjusted. :)

Now the third floor is fully hers.

She has friends over and projects movies onto the wall. She studies up there. Sleeps up there. Listens to music up there.

She even uses the barbie pit as a little reading/yoga/workout nook.

All in all, this was a good move.

It gives this good kid the privacy that feels so important at her age ( and me the sleep that feels so important at my age) — It gives her space to think, to decompress, to be sixteen without an audience.

...aaaaand I only go up there when I want to read her diary.

Just kidding.

What It Cost

We tried to be smart about this one. High school was coming up quickly no matter what, so the goals were speed, followed by thrift, followed by impact.

Here’s roughly where we landed:

• Industrial paint sprayer: around $200

• Paint + primer: about $250

• Plastic sheeting, tape, caulk, patching supplies, sanding pads, etc.: $150-ish

• Carpet + installation: $1,800

• Odds and ends (new outlet covers, hardware, the inevitable extra trip to the store): about $100

All in, we were right around $2350.00...which isn’t nothing.

BUT 

For under twenty-five hundred dollars,

we added a whole floor of livable space to the value of the house!

We also bought ourselves:

better sleep,

a little breathing room,

and a teenager who feels both independent and connected.

That feels like a solid return.

Could we have spent more? Well, actually, no. no we could not. 

Just kidding…sort of.

What I mean is, of course, there are a million things we could do to the 3rd floor if money wasn't a thing.

Hardwood,

built-ins,

custom storage ...the list goes on... and someday when life’s demands are a little different, I like to think we will refine the project.

But for now it was about giving our daughter a space that matched the season she’s in — one that says,

“We trust you,” but also,

“We still live here, so…”

Tap tap.