Saturday, January 30, 2010

I have a confession

When I was a little girl, I used to dream of building a dollhouse and decorating myself. I wanted to be in charge of choosing it all - the paint for the outside, the shingles for the roof, little shutters for the windows, and (of course) all the fun things to fill the rooms inside. I've always dreamed it would be a farmhouse complete with dormer windows and a rocking chair front porch (it would even have tiny rocking chairs set out so that the little people living inside could enjoy sitting the view). Some days, I think about painting it white or off-white. Some days, the house in my head is one of many shades of blue.

Planning the inside would be where I have had the most fun. (I say 'have had' because I still dream about this dollhouse from time to time.) There will be four bedrooms. Downstairs, the parents will have their master bedroom, a patchwork quilt covering their wrought-iron bed. Tiny pictures of their children adorn the walls. The three bedrooms upstairs are for the children. One is decorated with airplanes or rocket ships, perfect for the little boy who lives inside. Another is decorated for a teenage girl, tiny posters of rock stars hung randomly on brightly colored walls. The last is decorated for the baby, complete with tiny dollhouse nursery furniture. The eat in kitchen down stairs has a large butcher block table with seats for everyone. A wooden high chair sits next to it. There is even a bathroom, complete with a pedestal tub.

I have dreamed of it all a thousand times over, and I still hope to have the opportunity to build my dollhouse one day. It might not be until after the kids are out of the house, but I will hold on to my dream.

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