This is Two.

When you turned one I thought I felt enough gratitude to fill the mountain tops and then also build more mountains so that the entire world would be a mountainous wonderland.  Even though shortly thereafter I started recovering from an unplanned surgery, I still didn't think I could feel more gratitude that I got to spend endless time holding your hands as your feet tried to take their first, unassisted steps; as you climbed the stairs, craw by crawl, as you sat in your new bear chair and smiled into the New Year.  I didn't think my gratitude would grow as we went from park to park in the Colorado winter sunshine, or as you learned to love to swing, or as I talked desperately to you about the importance of women's rights during marches and protests.  Not even did I think my thankfulness could get deeper as the February sun shone on the sand you threw in the playground at grandma and grandpa's when dadda was overseas.  But it continued.

Then we got into the swing of winter, went to more parks, swung on your very own swing, cleaned more spaghetti and noodles off of your plump cheeks and the floor, and you took your first steps in March.  And as you drew on the sidewalk for the very first time, still I thought, "How did I get so lucky?"  As you grew out of shoes, into playing peekaboo in your teepee, watched snow fall from our big living room windows, and clung to my side (even when I took a weekend away with my girlfriends), I knew my capacity to be grateful for you kept growing and growing.

Then spring came and you relished the flowers and sunshine.  You loved on every bunny you could find, especially the big one at grammy and grandpy's.  We laughed together over the same things, you crawled in Truckee's crate repeatedly, sorted magnets, planted seeds with daddy and I, and went to the library to hear stories.  With the warming weather, my unending love for you still grew.

When summer came and the winds died down, you ate dirt and wore floppy hats.  When I was hurting so much, you were there to be my comfort, my safety.  You helped me heal in ways I can't express.  And my gratitude grew.  Even when dada and I went to Arizona for the weekend, your anger and sadness when I returned I understood full-heartedly; we are inseparable and for that I am so grateful.  We splashed the summer away taking rides in your wagon and wading in the neighborhood pool.  You babbled and cooed and got excited about ladybugs and Truckee running through the yard.  We painted pictures and made paper hats and your little, beautiful feet turned a speaklessly beautiful color brown from walks under the hot Colorado sun.  You splashed in every puddle you could find and ran with abandon through every sprinkler - usually in your clothes.  And still, I loved you more for who you were, and who you were showing us you were becoming.  My gratitude felt like it could move mountains.  On your first trip to the zoo you loved the water more than the animals and when I wanted to make a stepping stone of your tiny feet, you threw concrete in our yard.

You put on hats and necklaces, bopped to every music you heard, carried your blanket through the yard and into your crib for nap time, and hiked through Black Forest on my back.  You loved playing piano and brushing your teeth, spinning and reaching and trying to jump.  Grammy and Grandpy got an RV and you found new joy in your ever-growing love of buses and trucks and cars.  When the school bus started to come in late summer, we ran outside to say hello.  I taped the truck page in the Little Blue Truck back together over and over from all the love you gave it.  In August you welcomed the giant bear home and we went to the farm in Fort Collins where you talked to chickens and goats and loved on all of us.  And still, I thought my gratitude could not grow.

Then in fall we saw hot air balloons and chased the sunlight to evening.  We watched the leaves turn and put on extra layers.  We went to Broomfield and you got car sick again and again.  The playground we always went to was now yours to climb all over without much assistance.  You loved getting ice cream out of the container and watching all the dogs play in the pool on the last day of pool season.  Our daily walks to the mailbox started to include a trip to the park, by the water in the neighbor's yard, and back home again.  I built you a dollhouse and your never-ending imagination and love for play expanded.  We went to Taos for a wedding and you slept like a champion in your pack n play.  As halloween came, so did butterflies and decorations: you took it all in to your heart's content.  We found bird's nests as the leaves changed and climbed in the dirt in the park behind our house.  We rode the train in the mall and dressed like CareBears for a chilly Halloween.  When dada got back from overseas again, you relished his love and Kinder Surprise eggs he brought home.  And still, my gratitude for you grew and grew.

When you turned one I didn't think that I could be happier that you chose me to be your mama; but now I know.  On your second birthday my love and admiration for you will never stop growing.  My gratitude that I get to be in your life swells to the heavens and back.  I cherish every moment with you, my love, my girl, and I am so happy that you are mine.  I love you.

Bookshelf Dollhouse DIY

How I spent Squish's precious hours of nap time were about to take a more inspired turn. 

I felt uninspired to create for months. Although I spent/d most of my time materializing a realm of some kind of happiness for the babe and our family, I have over the past year also spent a bit of time laid out, healing, on pain killers.  Needless to say, I was not fulfilling much of an existence that nurtured my passions, disclaimer being I am passionate about mothering, but man, it can wear me out.  

At a recent visit to my parent's, my mom's dollhouse circa 1946 was dusted off and my sister and I laughed through blessed moments reminiscing about broken furniture while setting it up for Squish to see. I was amazed how Em's little wheels started turning as she sipped from tiny mugs and tried to sit on tiny chairs. I thought, "I could make this for her animals. I could make this for her imagination." 

I felt a jolt to dust off some of the unused creativity brain shelves patiently waiting for productivity.  I searched online for inspiration. Seeing that a pre-fab skeleton of a dollhouse could run upwards of $200 without furnishings, I wanted a more personal, DIY, albeit-economical version. The mental vision library started to fill with volumes of ideas. My hands wanted to create. 

As with most of my projects, I started organic, ground up, without much of a plan. I hacked a bookcase in half that had been sitting in our basement, gathered junk from the Husband's mason jars of toolbox odds and ends, stacked random pocket-fillers of blocks to sewing spools to eggshells from Easter, and piled it all on the guest bedroom floor. Power tools, craft glue, tape, old scrapbook paper, material from The Craft Conspiracy, lids from various containers, aging acrylic paint, and the bookshelf lined the walls and crept over the carpet. I found a craft cutting board in a still-packed box from our move two years ago, and a razor, and I couldn't sleep. My mind was flooded with images and vision.  It felt really good.

Since this vision's creative birth, I have done a little digging regarding the purposeful nature of providing children with avenues for imaginative exploration.  See: TedX on Imagination, this TIME article, and this article from the International Journal of Integrative Pediatrics and Environmental Medicine; all of which helped me to justify my newfound obsession of making really small things out of junk.  Regardless of your child's gender, I think there is much to be discovered in the trials and visions found in making real-life situations accessible for our kiddos to use for play.  Plus, it has been great fun for me, as well.  A 3D vision board, as one of my dear friends said.  

Thanks for the support, the laughter, and overall, not calling me crazy for diving into a much smaller realm of existence.

And lastly, measuring is not my forte. 

Dollhouse Tour:

Main Floor Living:

The bottom level has popsicle stick flooring I washed with a brown acrylic paint mix.  The fireplace is made from a gold picture frame I had on hand cut in half, and the stones are leftover from a stepping stone kit I used for Em's little footprint last spring.  Birch wood chips make the fireplace wood.  Chairs are egg shells painted and stuffed with a cloth covered puff ball.  Sofa is foam and cardboard covered with material, and the pillows are cotton balls with sewn covers.  I painted a white-round dowel for the molding and all the window frames are poorly cut foam board.  I used drawer knobs as lamp bases and fixed a craft paper lampshade to them with bolts.  The end tables are painted sewing spools and the plants are drawer knobs stuck in to more sewing spools.  The kitchen uses Em's Hape block set that was an extra from Christmas last year.  I glued blocks together, painted them white and silver, and added beads for handles for the kitchen cabinets.  Key chain beaded string holds the pendant lights and the pendant shades are made from Sharpie colored spray bottle caps.  Birch chips are stacked and glued for the stools, colored on the top with gold Sharpie.  The island is a box top with square dowel legs and more painted blocks around the sink.  The sink is from a Laughing Cow cheese and breadstick container, painted white.  The oven vent and shelving are made from popsicle sticks.  Handles on the fridge and stove are the clips removed from pen caps.  The wallpaper in both rooms is scrapbook paper I had on hand.

I painted the stairs and glued dollhouse carpet to them.

Second Story:
Nothing too fancy.  More scrapbook paper for the walls and a geode coaster cut in half for the bench back, which is foam with material glued on.  Material and foam for the bed, as well.  Popsicle sticks make the "shiplap" accent wall and picture frames.  The gold leaves are from old earrings.  I cutout the landscape pictures from an REI catalog.  The succulent is from a grouping I have in our living room, and it is stuck in a cleaned medicine bottle with scrapbook paper around.  The dresser is made from matchboxes with brads for pulls, glued to blocks.  I used more popsicle sticks for the hall flooring and earring embellishments in the hallway.  The bathroom has a cutout from a Ballard magazine of a clock and wooden bracelet beads are glued in the shower area.  The sink is made of blocks and a lid from a lip wax container, which I nailed on.  The hanging plant is a bottle cap with a wood chip hung by string.  I used earring hooks with beads for the towel hooks and faucets, and the bathtub is the bottom half of a spray bottle container.  I don't know where I found the piece of glass that separates the shower, but it's glued to more blocks.  The shower head is an earbud colored with silver Sharpie.  The vanity mirror is from an eyeshadow case.

Children's Loft:
I used scrapbook paper and took a bunch of paint sample swatches from Ace to make the herringbone floor pattern.  Em's fingerpaint artwork is surrounded by popsicle stick frames on the back wall.  I used one of her old swaddle blankets for the curtains and a dowel and bolts for the curtain rod.  A bobbypin holder holds the blankets, which are just swatches of material.  Altoid cases filled with material covered foam make the beds and I sewed material pillow cases and stuffed them with cotton balls for all of the pillows.  The teepee is round dowels hair-tied together with material glued around for the sides.  The rugs are an old placemat cut into squares.  Another drawer pull is fixed with a scrapbook paper lampshade.  The dresser is match boxes glued together, covered with scrapbook paper and fixed with brads for the drawer pulls.  I used dollhouse carpet in the reading loft and material-covered foam for the seating bench.  The bench end is made of popsicle sticks.  The lights in the loft are a string of LED lights from last Christmas. 

All of the walls in the house are made from foam board or cardboard.  The floors are made from 1/2" foam board and I drilled holes in the sides of the book shelf then stuffed BBQ skewers through the holes and into the foam board to ensure the floors were level and stayed in place.  Level is relative.

The house siding is a large piece of posterboard.  Cutting the windows in the siding involved a lot of measuring.  More cuts of foam board make the window frames on the exterior.  The roof is 1/4" plywood.  For the lighting, I drilled holes in the back of the bookshelf and strung the lights along the ceilings and into some drilled holes in the floors.  Em pulled the one out in the bathroom, so that's taped to the ceiling!

Random items purchased: popsicle sticks; birch wood chips; three, round and one, square dowels; 1/2" and 1/4" foam board; poster board; five, drawer knobs; 3/4" quilting foam.  More popsicle sticks.

Dollhouse-specific items purchased: six light bulbs and wires, a 20-volt amp, dollhouse lighting strip, 1:12 stairs, some pre-made books, and a dollhouse wagon.

Items recycled (dare I say, up-cycled):  puff balls, matchboxes, Hape blocks, thread spools, a small picture frame, nuts, bolts, a hinge, spray bottle caps, cheese lids, a stem from a floral wreath, snips of faux-succulents, a geode coaster, an old liquid medicine bottle, the bottom of a spray bottle, mirrors from makeup containers, bracelet beads, old earrings, an old washcloth, paint samples, magazine cutouts, and Altoid tins.

Time will tell.  Time will tell with all of it.  Well, time and tiny hands prying things open, off, and apart.  As of this moment, Em has ripped apart the toilet, which her animals won't use anyway (ha), taken the towel hooks off of the wall in the bathroom, managed to unscrew the hallway light bulb, pulled apart the fixtures on the tub and bathroom sink, repeatedly swung the pendant lights in the kitchen, which seem to hold up to this wear and tear, and marked up the hardwood by banging the lamp stand repeatedly.  Her favorite things to do right now are wash her own hands in the tiny kitchen sink (I've even caught her washing her face with the tiny towels), throw everything in the bathroom down the tiny staircase, stuff materials, rabbits, and lamps through the windows, and put her animals in the beds to sleep.  I think she almost ate a tiny book the other day while snacking on crackers during play; this remains a supervised activity.  I'm hoping that by her having it before she's even two, she'll grow to love and play with it to her heart's desire...and hopefully it will withstand the wear and tear of her tiny imagination and discovery.

Thanks for the read.  xoxo