Enjoying the Small Things

Enjoying the Small Things

Down the Dollhouse Rabbit Hole

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I tried to start this from how it began, but there’s really no way to tell this except from where I am now which is far gone–deep in the rabbit hole of dollhousing. Oh, you didn’t know dollhouse was a verb? It is now. Let’s get this over with…

My name is Kelle, and I am addicted to dollhousing. Whew, there. I said it.

Let’s just say a few Calico Critters for Nella’s Christmas present led to a bigger house for them for her birthday. And that’s about where it ends with Nella because I then took over. Lovely house there, girl. Can I have it? In all fairness, I have every intention of giving it back to her. But only after…

…The Renovation®.

This is the house we started with. We don’t have a lot of room for things to go against the wall in our house, and I knew I wanted it to fit against the end of Nella’s bed without rising above the foot board. This one is perfect, and I like the size proportions of each room (the two big rooms are so much fun to decorate!).

It was a perfectly good house to begin with, but as we started arranging the Hedgehog Family into their bedroom and placing Mrs. Hedgehog’s appliances in her new kitchen, I saw some opportunities. These walls would look great with some wallpaper.

Let me tell you something right now. Take it as a general rule in life–dollhouses, real houses: the words “These walls would look great with some wallpaper” never lead to anything good. Wallpaper is the gateway drug to hiring a contractor to rip your entire house apart and redo everything. It’s like swallowing the blue pill. You can never go back.

One trip to Hobby Lobby to “find some wallpaper” later, and I was standing at the checkout with a basket full of things I didn’t even know they made for dollhouses. Itty bitty base trim molding! A teeny tiny working sconce light! A miniature fish bowl with the smallest goldfish you have ever seen!

“Wow!” the sweet girl at the checkout exclaimed as she rang me up. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, just fancying up a dollhouse,” I replied, beginning to own the job like the true obsession it would become.

“Must be for someone really special,” she noted as she scanned 18 scrapbook paper options and a tiny set of drinking glasses.

I locked myself in Nella’s bedroom that night, measuring and cutting scrapbook paper, carefully brushing wallpaper glue and smoothing the new patterns in place.

A strange satisfaction settled in from how quickly and easily I could obtain the kind of room makeover that normally takes weeks and effort and money to obtain in my real home. I don’t have wood beams and crown molding on my own ceiling, but for the small price of $4.95 and a bloody finger from the bread knife I thought would suffice for a miter saw, I have them in my doll house.

And can we talk about the creative joy?! Once the crown molding was in place, my mind started spinning with ideas. And then I searched “modern dollhouse accessories” on the Internet. AND SHIT. GOT. REAL.

It’s been one week since The Renovation® started. I’m now following 13 new dollhouse enthusiast accounts, am waiting on a shipment of miniature kitchen cabinets to arrive from Hong Kong, researched how to make a miniature fireplace from Sculpey clay and actually consulted Brett on the very important decision of “stainless or white?” for the dollhouse fridge.

Every time Heidi calls, she asks what I’m doing, and when I say “nothing,” she says, “You’re lying. You’re working on the dollhouse, aren’t you?”

I’m printing tiny magazine covers to make coffee table books.

Cutting cloth napkins into curtains.

Crocheting tiny baby blankets for the itty bitty crib that now stands in the hedgehog home.

I’ve lost my cool filter. I started talking about the dollhouse renovation at the gym the other day! TO WORKOUT GUYS! I EVEN PULLED UP A PHOTO OF THE NEW CURTAINS ON MY PHONE, WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

As my trainer so eloquently put it, “If you are that balls deep into renovating a doll house, what kind of shit are you avoiding in your real life?” Whatever, go eat a protein bar.

Brett actually gently nudged me the other day, “Babe, do you think we could work on our real house today?”

EXCUSE ME, CAN’T YOU SEE, I’M BUSY FOLDING A TINY KINFOLK COOKBOOK THAT TOOK ME THREE PRINTINGS TO SIZE RIGHT!

I now see dollhouses like that kid in the Sixth Sense saw dead people. Suddenly all the design accounts I follow on Instagram look miniature. I actually zoomed in on a planter the other day, interested in adding it to the dollhouse, and got disappointed when I realized it was life size.

Of course this is appropriately timed with Marie Kondo’s rise. Everyone else is ridding their homes of unneeded clutter, and I’ve accumulated a pocket-sized telephone, a whisk for Mrs. Hedgehog’s kitchen, a cutting board the size of a thumbnail, six miniature Coke bottles, a 3-inch ukulele, a bag of popsicle sticks to make floating shelves, and an itty bitty custom kitchen on its way from Hong Kong. At least I share her rule of thumb….IT SPARKS JOY.

Which brings me to the moral of this unfolding story.

Yes, it started with a gift for my kid; and yes, I kind of took over. But that’s a far better gift than a dollhouse for her…a mom with a passion to make, who gets lost in the creative joy of a hobby, who finds delight in simple tiny things. When I first shared this, I had several ask (most totally in good fun) if Nella would be involved in the decorating choices and renovation process. And my answer is…Nope. I don’t always involve my kids in all my creative passions because I think being witness to my creative endeavors is just as important, if not more, than being invited to be a part of every one. My mom played the piano for herself growing up, sewed dresses and doll clothes without attempting to teach us how, baked brownies and cookies and birthday treats without scooting a “cooking helper stool” by her side for us. She did it to feed her own creative soul, and for that I am thankful because she taught me to do the same. With three kids to take care of, the youngest (ahem-yours truly) who made a habit of climbing in the dishwasher and eating Christmas ornaments, she needed something to stay sane. I don’t worry about inviting my children to be part of all my creative projects because I know they already have enough creative opportunities and choices and freedom to dabble in this home to make them confident happy little artists.

In the end, Nella will be handed a renovated dollhouse, and I’ll have to find a new hobby. But everybody wins.

Especially Mrs. Hedgehog who’s about to have a nicer home than all of us.

The No-Cursing-While-You-Build-It Gingerbread House

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So this is how it goes with the gingerbread houses in our home. We usually buy pre-made box kits with ready-made hard-as-a-rock pieces that A) usually include one cracked or broken wall and B) never stand up and stick together like they’re supposed to. Constructing a gingerbread house from a box kit is a job very much like stretching too-small fitted sheets over a large mattress or trying to open a double stroller while resting a baby on your hip–both things I’ve attempted more times than I’ve liked and rendered pulling out my toilet vocabulary. The things I mutter under my breath during gingerbread house construction most definitely take the Christ out of Christmas, and when the icing isn’t strong enough to hold the south wall up, you bet the glue gun’s coming out.

We’re coming at it a different way this year with a lay-flat gingerbread house that is not only easy to decorate but also doesn’t taste like a spiced 2 x 4–the No Cursing Ginberbread CAKE! Easy enough to make that you can bunch several of them together to construct an entire lay-flat gingerbread village.

We used this recipe for the gingerbread cake, and it’s perfection–“gingerbready” enough where you recognize that rich holiday spice flavor but still mild so kids like it, especially with a little buttercream frosting.

I used my mom’s classic buttercream recipe which I never measure–softened butter, powdered sugar, a little vanilla and milk. And I skip the pastry bag and spoon it into a large gallon-size Ziplock (stiffer than the small ones) and clip the tip to decorate.

We used this house cake pan and this evergreen tree silicone mold.

I love the options with a lay flat cake. You can stretch butcher paper out on a table and create an entire winter wonderland scene with these. And kids can extend their decorating skills to the paper, dusting powdered sugar snow, adding drawings, etc. I love the simplicity of just the brown cake with a little white frosting, but for kids you can go wild and add all the candy fixings, colored frosting, etc.

The trees are about the size of a cupcake, so you could set up a gorgeous dessert table with a village scene for a holiday event. Or lay out several of these cakes for a gingerbread house decorating party where kids aren’t crying because their houses are caving in. See? WIN for all.

When you’re done gazing at how pretty the finished product looks, slice it up and serve it, because it’s so good!

Save your cursing for when your tree dries up two days before Christmas, or when you run out of tape at midnight Christmas Eve with nine gifts still left to wrap, or–here’s a new one–when your brother buys all your kids Yellies for Christmas (no seriously, click on it. It’s a real toy with the single design goal of making parents lose their shit).

But gingerbread houses? Nothing but peace and love now.

Happy Monday!

Pompom Christmas Necklace

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Repeat after me: The best way to spread Christmas cheer is…

If you’ve seen Elf, you know that sentence ends with “singing loud for all to hear,” but I’m going to give you some other options so that you have a little smorgasbord of cheer to choose from, okay?

The best way to spread Christmas cheer is…swinging from a chandelier.
The best way to spread Christmas cheer is…going to Butch McGuire’s for a Christmas beer.
The best way to spread Christmas cheer is…making a festive necklace with a little Christmas deer.

I’m planning to do all three this season, but to keep this kid-friendly, let’s jump right into that last one because it’s easy, and kids will love turning any outfit into something festive and fun with these darling necklaces.

If you’re gutsy, combine all three and make one of these necklaces to wear at Butch McGuire’s while you swing from their chandeliers.

Here’s what you need – a small, lightweight ornament or Christmas trinket that would serve well as your “charm” (or a collection of them if you want to make more than one necklace). Since we made these, I keep spotting more little ornaments that would make the cutest necklace. We found our gingerbread plush ornament at Target, the reindeer one at Hobby Lobby, and the miniature bottle brush tree in a pack of 5 in the Dollar Spot at Target. These little snowmen are pretty cute too.

Then, all you need is some suede lacing (inexpensive, usually sold in packs with different colors at any craft store), some pompoms, and a needle and thread. I’m sure you could also use glue to adhere the pompoms, but sewing them on with just a few loops of thread secures it a little better.

Cut off any long hanging loops on the ornaments. If there’s not a ring on the ornament to slip on the suede cording, sew one on. I sewed the gingerbread man on by looping the thread around a few times, but leaving it a bit loose so it could “slide”. For the miniature bottle brush tree, I just tied some thread tightly toward the top of the tree to make a loop.

Sew the pompoms where you want them along the suede. We used different sizes of pompoms and sewed two on one side, one on the other to give it some interesting asymmetry.

And that’s it. You’re officially dressing festive!

These are great to give to little friends as gifts or make a great party craft. Then hang them up, and have fun choosing which one you’ll wear each day from now until Christmas.