Ten years since I decided I wanted to start my own official business. Ten years since handmade ironing board covers were going to be the product. Ten years since I whipped out my sewing machine in our basement apartment with absolutely no plan or vision for where any of this would go.

And especially no vision of sitting here, ten years later, with a whole basement full of flowers, fabric, and garland, and thousands of customers to thank for supporting me along the way.

2016 finally became the start of a real dream.

Although, if we're being honest, that dream started long before then.

It probably started when I was seven years old, selling candy from my parents' picnic table with my Little Tikes cash register in hand. It continued through elementary school, when I sold my handmade creations to kids on the playground for 25 cents.

Apparently, I've always had a thing for making things and convincing other people they needed it.

So in August 2016, I officially opened the online doors to All Things Unnecessary.

Yes, that was really the name for the whole first year. And honestly, it still feels pretty fitting for my personality to this day. 

So in our newlywed basement apartment, I gave the business a shot with all the fear, excitement, anxiousness, and probably slightly delusional optimism that comes with deciding, "Sure, I can totally do this."

And for years, I did.

I poured my heart and soul into custom baby blankets and all the little accessories that went along with them for the cutest tiny humans. Blankets, bows, bibs, burp cloths, bibs, binky clips, you name it.

Then I had tiny humans of my own. And surprise, surprise, I discovered it's actually pretty difficult to pump out handmade orders on three hours of broken sleep with babies in tow. Pins on the floor. Blankets being grabbed while I was trying to sew them. Kids needing me every five seconds. The whole shebang became exhausting, and eventually I realized I needed to put the business on the back burner for a hot minute and focus on my babies.

So I did. And there it sat for a while.

That is… until Christmas rolled around.

I decided it was finally time to upgrade our Christmas tree, which, at the time, happened to be the very same tree I had painstakingly snapped every individual branch into while growing up.

If you know, you know.

I found the tree I wanted and proudly showed it to my husband. He died a little inside. Then he basically told me, "Well, if that's the tree you want, you can find a way to pay for it."

Fair. Because yes, it was completely unnecessary, especially for only a 7.5-foot Christmas tree. But I respect the fire he lit under my butt to make it happen.

And obviously, if you're getting a new Christmas tree, you need new garland to go with it. That's just basic knowledge..

The problem was that I had always been ridiculously picky about faux florals and garlands. I'd been looking for years for something that actually looked real, felt beautiful, and didn't immediately scream, "Hello, I am plastic."

Then I finally found the golden egg I'd been searching for. And once I found it, I couldn't not share it — this time, though, I figured I should probably charge a little more than 25 cents.

I bought extra, listed what I didn't need, and quickly realized I wasn't the only person who'd been searching for greenery that didn't look painfully fake.

And suddenly this little business that had been sitting quietly on the back burner had a completely new direction. The next year, I decided to stop treating the garland like a random Christmas experiment and actually build a product line around it.

And somehow, year after year, it kept growing.

Which brings us to today, where I sit with a basement that has once again become Cozy Cottontail headquarters — except now it's part warehouse, part order fulfillment center, part design studio, and part "Mom, why is there garland everywhere?"

Sorry, kids.

It also houses Cozy Cottontail's very own mascot, Miss Fancy Pants, the cottontail herself, who arguably contributes very little to daily operations but maintains an important executive position nonetheless.

And now, ten years after starting a business with ironing board covers, I've found myself surrounded by Christmas greenery, and now also designing faux wedding florals, creating spaces for people, and finally using that interior design degree in a way I never could have imagined.

Turns out, I did end up doing what I always wanted to do. It just looks nothing like I thought it would.

If there's anything I've learned over the last ten years, it's this:

If you want it, do it.

You're going to fail. You're going to question yourself. You're going to want to give up. Sometimes you're actually going to give up. You might put the dream away for a few years because babies need you, life gets crazy, priorities change, and you're just trying to keep everyone alive.

And then one day, the thing that gets you started again might be an unnecessarily expensive Christmas tree your husband encourages you to pay for.

You just never know. But if you never try, you'll never get to find out where it could take you.

Ten years later, I still don't entirely know what I'm doing. 

But I am incredibly grateful for every single person who has ordered, shared, supported, encouraged, decorated, and allowed something I created to become a small part of their home.

Seven-year-old me would probably be pretty impressed. Although she'd also be wondering why I ever stopped charging 25 cents.

Here's to ten years of Cozy Cottontail, and to wherever this crazy little business takes me next!