Like many sisters, Dana and Shelley Grasty share many things -- a notable resemblance, childhood memories and, occasionally, a special belt or bag. But for three years now, they've also shared some other things: a mortgage, their children, family meals, a car and even vacations.
The two, both divorced, live in a six-bedroom house in Northwest Washington with their three children. The decision to buy their house was an easy one, they say.
Shawn Goldstein and her son, Kai Joseph, right, opened their home to Darcie Allen and her son, Sinclair, left.
(Hans Ericsson For The Washington Post)
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"We both lived in small apartments next door to each other and we were constantly in each other's homes," explains Shelley, a 41-year-old insurance salesperson. "We knew we wanted to stay in the city, and given the home prices here, it just made sense to put our money together to get the type of home we wanted. Neither of us could have done it alone."
The economic benefits of their partnership have been significant, but the rewards have been far more than financial, the women say. It's been beneficial to have a second parent and an understanding.
"We've always been close, and this has made us even closer," Dana, 35, says. "It's the best thing in the world we could have done. We share everything -- cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, child care -- everything except men. That's where we draw the line," Dana jokes.
The Grasty women's living arrangement doesn't seem so uncommon these days. Home-sharing may be a growing solution to the dearth of affordable housing, high divorce rates, family separation, and the time crunch that plagues working mothers.
Carmel Sullivan, founder and executive director of Co-abode.org, a Web site that matches single mothers seeking housemates, says she has seen a growing interest in home-sharing among women. This need, says Sullivan, 49, is especially acute among single mothers seeking affordable housing, better schools and safe neighborhoods in which to rear their children. Many of her clients, she says, find the service "a godsend. It's a solution they can take in hand and not wait for social service or government."
Sullivan knows this firsthand. The idea for her site grew out of her own experience. In 2001, as a newly divorced mother, she says she felt the need to connect with other women in similar circumstances.
"For me it was more of an emotional thing," says Sullivan, who lives in the Los Angeles area. "I was coming out of a 17-year marriage and didn't want to raise my son alone."
So she started canvassing her neighborhood, her son's school and her network of co-workers and friends for a housemate.
"At the end of the day, I had 17 other moms," who responded, says Sullivan.
Only four years later, Co-abode has grown into a nonprofit organization with some 17,000 registered members. Women become members by filling out free confidential profiles online. They then gain access to a variety of services, including support groups, advice pages and a mom-matching service. A onetime fee gives a member access to the site's blind e-mail service, which allows her to communicate with others she thinks would be good matches, before deciding whether to meet a potential housemate. According to Sullivan, so far Co-abode has matched about 2,000 women nationwide. But it's hard to keep track, she acknowledges, because the site is self-reporting.
Shawn Goldstein, a real estate agent who became a single mom when she adopted her now 4 1/2-year-old son, is one of the women who found a housemate, and a friend, through Co-abode. Goldstein, 42, owns a three-bedroom house with a big yard in the Columbia Heights section of Northwest Washington. About a year ago, she decided to house-share to find additional funds for private school for her son.
Through Co-abode, Goldstein paired up with Darcie Allen, a 29-year-old graduate student who was looking for just such a situation. Married and the mother of a son who is almost 5, Allen was relocating from North Carolina to Washington to attend Georgetown University. She was coming without her husband, who remained behind because of his job.
