In Seattle, a cool contemporary makes room for kids, and fun

"THERE OFTEN is no coffee table in the living room," says the owner. "That is where the dancing happens."

Of course. Two little girls see to that.

"This," the owner says, sweeping her arm across a small room downstairs, "is the overflow guest room. But for now it's the dress-up room, because our girls are massively into dressing up and putting on plays."

And their parents see to that in the family's new, "we — are — never — moving — again" house.

The couple thought they already had that house. In 1995 they took an old Madison Park rambler and made it their own, remodeling it for themselves and their daughter.

Then along came their second daughter.

"We just couldn't believe it when we were doing it again," says the owner.

But they were, finding another rambler in need of an architect just a block away. Construction began in January 2008 and they moved in that December.

"We had a lot of heartache in our last house. I kept Excel spreadsheets myself while I was working full time at Microsoft. I felt like I was a construction supervisor. There were so many choices we had to make. A little thing like choosing cabinet pulls, it can wear you down to the nub."

But that was then. This is now: "We had the best summer in this house," the owner says of the 1952-vintage remade from three walls and the foundation. "We throw open the doors: We have friends for dinner and wine, put the kids outside to play."

And, this is how: architect Lane Williams of COOP 15.

"Having an architect who wants to get down to that level of detail — that's what I recommend to my friends," the owner says. "Lane was more like an art director. We said to him, 'This is the feeling we want, now you tell us.' "

The couple was looking for a light house with a clean but warm feeling, as sustainable as possible, backyard and house connected; parents able to watch the kids in the yard from just about any place. A fun house for kids, a cool house for grown-ups.

They got it all in 4,200 square feet with 9-foot ceilings in the living room, an open living, kitchen and dining space focused on two walls of glass that open to the newly leveled backyard.

Rising next to the stairwell is a contemporary totem in koto wood. It was designed to hide a structural post and separate dining room and front door, the wood carrying the eye upward with a trail of embedded light.

The large study is lined with desktops for grown-ups and kids. Opaque white Raumplus sliders turn doorways into walls at the media room ("I have screamy girls," the owner says) and front closet. Upstairs in the retreat spaces, the treehouse master bedroom overlooks the neighborhood.

The Roman brick exterior remains and was painted near-black, grounding the silver-gray second story clad with SIL-LEED, a factory-finished fiber-reinforced cement panel.

Contractor Joe McKinstry made friends of the neighbors by knocking on doors to explain the project, staging materials and keeping the property cleared of debris. "People thanked us!" the owner says.

The couple had not worked with an interior designer before. But Williams recommended Holly McKinley. She designed furniture and cabinetry in subtle color themes and textures the family could live with for a long time, including an inviting charcoal sofa in the media room the owner calls "a riff on Dick and Laura Petrie."

And like "The Dick Van Dyke Show," this episode ends well.

"I'm always happy when I come home," the owner says. "I always think, oh, wow! We live here."

Rebecca Teagarden is assistant editor of Pacific Northwest magazine. Benjamin Benschneider is a magazine staff photographer.