Dollhouse Dreams II

The word "dollhouse" is a powerful one for little girls and women alike.  It's full of all kinds of memories of days gone by, or for the younger ones, hopes for future fun.  The word has recently elicited a variety of animated stories that have been so fun to hear.  From what I've heard, it seems there are two kinds of girls in this world. There are those who are Dollhouse Girls and those who, quite simply, are not.

My grandma is a Dollhouse girl.  There were two things she always wanted to have, a bicycle and a dollhouse, both of which she never got.  When she was a young girl, her Aunt Lenoir had lost two children and wanted to take my grandma as her own.  She was a kind woman, who never said a cross word.  She was gentle and sweet, and promised grandma a bike and a dollhouse and new dresses if only she would come be her daughter.  Coming from a family of five children, this request didn't seem at all unreasonable to grandma, plus her mom quarrelled all the time.  Her house was loud and chaotic, they wouldn't miss the youngest of the five.  Grandma begged and pleaded, but her mom never relented.  So after many tears were shed, grandma made due, fashioning dolls and furniture out of scraps of this and that she found along the way.  She used her imagination and had very lively dollhouse adventures without the aid of an actual dollhouse.  Eventually, my grandma would have a daughter, and she vowed her daughter would have a better life than she had.  Her daughter would have a dollhouse!  Of course, my grandma didn't bargain for my mom, whose idea of a fun time was painting all of her baby dolls and jumping on her shiny, new dollhouse crushing it to bits.

Some people have been worried that a nice dollhouse is too much of an investment for a three year old little girl.  What if she doesn't like it?  And while the question is certainly a fair one, (I have seen more than enough postings on craigslist advertising a $200 dollhouse that was "never played with" or "only collecting dust") I don't think we need to worry.  You see, there are two types.  I'm a dollhouse girl, my mom was not.  My sister wasn't and neither is her daughter. My grandma was, as was Mimi. Wormy has gone the past year with only a doll family, and like grandma, has spent countless hours imagining a home and furniture for her little people.  Her face lights up when she sees pictures of houses online, and asks for a "Happy Birthday House" nearly everyday.  I think it's safe to say she's a Dollhouse Girl.