Heather Combs Three Naperville split-levels on the same street, built by the same crew in 1964, will hide three completely different problems. I’ve walked enough of them to know that the one with the prettiest kitchen usually has the worst plumbing underneath it.
That’s the thing nobody tells you before you start calling contractors. The house you bought on Hobson West or in the East Highlands didn’t just age. It aged in a specific order, and the order matters because it decides where your money goes first.
Get the sequence right and a modest budget changes how the house lives. Get it wrong and you’ll spend twice. If you’re weighing options for naperville remodeling, the smartest first move costs nothing, and that’s a walk through your own house with a flashlight and a notepad.
Why so many Naperville houses share the same three flaws
Most of the housing stock around the downtown corridor and the older subdivisions went up during a narrow window of rapid suburban construction. Builders used the same plans, the same materials, and the same shortcuts across hundreds of lots. So the failures repeat, house after house.
Here’s what I find almost every time:
- Original cast iron drain lines that have roughed up on the inside, so water drains slow and no drain cleaner fixes it for long.
- Split-level staircases with no landing wide enough for a piece of furniture, which is why half the basements I see are storage graveyards.
- Kitchens walled off from the dining room by a load-bearing partition nobody wants to touch.
That last one is the emotional center of most renovation conversations. Everyone wants the wall gone. Almost nobody wants to hear what holding up the second floor actually requires. I’d rather tell you on day one than surprise you on week six.
The 15-minute walkthrough I do before pricing anything
This is the part you can do yourself tonight. Grab a flashlight, a phone, and fifteen minutes. Skip the pretty rooms entirely and go where water and structure live.
- The basement ceiling. Look at the pipes above your head. Rust-colored stains near joints mean slow leaks that have been running for years. Look at the floor joists too. Any dark, crumbly wood near the exterior wall is worth flagging before you spend a dollar upstairs.
- The lowest drain in the house. Fill the basement utility sink or the floor drain and watch. If water backs up anywhere else, the main line is partly blocked, and that’s a plumbing bill before a tile bill.
- The window heads. In winter, run your hand along the top of each window. Cold air pouring in means the insulation above the frame has settled, which is why the upstairs always feels warm in summer and cold in January.
- Every outlet on the basement wall. Original two-prong outlets tell you the wiring hasn’t been touched. That’s a real safety issue, and it’s also a permit issue the moment you open a wall.
- The stairs. Stand at the bottom and count the steps to the landing. Fewer than four usually means any addition you’re imagining will need a reworked stair, not a new room hung on the side.
Write down what you find. When a designer walks in, you’ll be describing symptoms instead of guessing, and that’s worth real money in the estimate.
What the numbers and the permits actually say
Naperville’s median home age tells the story better than any sales pitch. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, a large share of the country’s owner-occupied housing was built before 1980, and the local pattern is even older in the established neighborhoods near downtown. You’re not renovating a new house that’s tired. You’re renovating a mid-century house that’s due.
That has a budget consequence people miss. Contractors who work in older housing stock are doing two jobs at once: making the space look right and bringing the bones up to current code. The visible work is what you’ll photograph. The invisible work is what keeps your permit from getting flagged at final inspection.
Here’s how I’d sequence the spending, and I’ll defend this order against anyone who argues for cosmetics first:
| Stage | What gets done | Why it goes here |
|---|---|---|
| 1. Systems | Drain lines, electrical service, insulation and air sealing | You can’t finish a wall twice. Do this before anything closed goes in. |
| 2. Structure | Beam replacement, stair rework, floor leveling | Adds and open plans depend on it. Anything else gets torn out later. |
| 3. Layout | Kitchen and bath reconfiguration, wall removal | This is where the house starts feeling different to live in. |
| 4. Finish | Cabinets, tile, counters, fixtures, paint | The part you’ll actually see. It should come last, not first. |
The temptation to invert that order is enormous, especially when you’ve been staring at a dated kitchen for two years. I get it. But a beautiful kitchen sitting on failing drain lines is just an expensive room waiting to be opened back up.
One more reality check on insulation, because it’s the cheapest win most people skip. The EPA’s ENERGY STAR program recommends air sealing and insulation upgrades as some of the highest-return improvements a homeowner can make, and in a house with settled attic insulation that payback shows up on your heating bill the first cold month.
Kitchen, bath, or basement: picking your first project
Homeowners ask me this constantly, and I’ll give you the answer I actually use instead of the diplomatic one.
If the plumbing in the walkthrough failed, do the bathroom first, even if you don’t want to. A bathroom remodel lets a contractor open a wall, replace old supply and drain lines, and add a proper moisture barrier without tearing apart a finished kitchen later. It’s the least glamorous first project and the most strategic.
If the plumbing checks out but your family life bottlenecks in the morning, do the kitchen. Not because it’s the best return on paper, but because a kitchen that works changes your ordinary Tuesday. The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development tracks how much of household spending goes toward housing, and for most families it’s the single largest line item they’ll ever carry, which is a decent argument for making that space work properly instead of tolerating it.
If you need living space and not a new room, finish the basement. It’s cheaper per square foot than an addition, it’s already framed by your foundation, and it solves the storage problem your stairs created in the first place. The catch is ceiling height and moisture. Check both before you fall in love with a plan.
A few things that trip people up in older homes
Permits. If your house predates the current code cycle, any wall you open may reveal work that has to be corrected before the inspector signs off. That’s not a contractor padding an estimate. That’s the reality of working inside a house that has been modified by three previous owners, some of whom were handy and some of whom were not.
Lead and asbestos. Houses built before the late 1970s can contain both, and handling them isn’t optional. Any contractor who waves it off “because it’s probably fine” has told you everything you need to know about how the rest of the job will go.
Timelines. Kitchens and baths in occupied houses always run longer than the calendar suggests. Sequence matters more than speed. Design decisions made late cost more than decisions made early, and the difference between a smooth project and a miserable one usually comes down to how many choices got locked before demolition started.
Before you call anyone
Do the walkthrough. Write down what your drains, windows, outlets, and stairs tell you. Then get two or three estimates and compare what each one says about the invisible work, not the cabinets. The contractor who talks about your plumbing before your backsplash is the one worth keeping.
Your house has a specific set of problems, and they’re probably the same ones your neighbors quietly fixed. What did you find on your walkthrough?
