Meet My Husband Clark Griswold

Alert! Kris Kringle has been here and has vomited his holiday cheer all over my house again.. I shouldn't be surprised. It happens this time each year. My husband (aka Clark Griswold) happens to be Christmas obsessed and so therefore, I now am the one who lives in one of those manically decorated homes filled front to back and top to bottom with green and red cheer. Yep, I am a part of one of those households; the ones which I used to observe with amusement and a mild concern for the said homeowners' sanity.

As of yesterday, my ceilings support about 75 giant ornaments (think the size that would most naturally hang from the 100 ft tree at Disneyland), suspended by fishing line and push pins. My granite kitchen island is no longer food-friendly because it is now a depot for elves to circle the North Pole via an electric train that whistles Christmas carols. I have a 5 ft tall motion-activated Frosty the Snowman at my front door and a hip-swinging 5 ft Santa Claus in the den which visitors can karaoke catchy tunes like “Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree” and “Let it Snow.”

Of course we have a “traditional” tree (small this year at 11 ft) along with about 25 other “non” traditional ones, artificial,some flocked and some not, which feature tiny stuffed elves as well as a million tiny bulbs and multi-colored garland. The trees, of course, make the three life-sized reindeer feel at home I guess, and therefore they are a necessity.

Our entry table hosts a collection of snowmen and our buffet no longer holds family photos, but rather an homage to our annual visitor and friend Santa, with about 50 renditions. Some are stuffed, some are silly, some are a bit stoic; all of them have grand white beards and big, jolly bellies covered in pant suits with varying shades of red.

Journey outside and it is a dazzling spectacle of lights (no LEDs- that's where I weigh in. To me, it simply isn't a true Christmas light if it doesn't come from a C9 bulb with all the colors). Our white fence is run with garland and lovely red bows. Our porch is manned by life-sized nutcrackers and an arch festooned with more colorful garland. This actually is a step down from the typical menagerie which, in past years, has included a borage of electrically-manned soldiers, reindeer, gingerbread men and colorful gift boxes. (My husband tells me that he has down-sized the display to be more sensitive to my desire for a “classic” look- he's on crack-- it is still off the hook, but I must admit that it does look good.)

When I married into the holiday hoopla, I frankly had no clue to the degree of his decorating madness. I knew he loved Christmas. He would describe his decorations and I would melt. How adorable is it to find a single guy with no kids who took the painstaking effort to prop up inflatable Santa Clauses and adorn each tree with tiny white twinkle lights? He would even make it snow for God's sake! That is a guy with a big heart! And although I like to think he fell in love with me for a multitude of reasons, say my personality or perhaps my keen sense of humor, it probably has more to do with the fact that I was born on Christmas day- it all ties in so nicely, don't you think?

Although my description may sound like a family who has bought into the commercialism of the season, it is not done without sentiment or understanding of its meaning. The carefully wrapped ornaments from my husband's childhood are always the most anticipated decorations to bestow. The handmade craftsmanship of our children as toddlers bring us all back to our innocence and give us pause as we hang the puzzle framed photos or plaster of paris handprints. The ceramic nativity scene created by my grandmother finds its place in our bedroom. I sneak a few minutes alone as I place each piece and remember how special this tradition has always been for me since I was a little girl.

As each year passes, I have grown more fond of the process; the unwrapping of delicate bulbs, the unraveling of strands of lights and even though it is inevitable that I hit a panic mode by the end of November just thinking about the plight ahead, I know that it all will get done and through this, our family can come together for a few nights as we work collectively to adorn our home and make it warm and welcoming for our friends and loved ones who visit during the season and the memories that will be provided are the real gifts we receive.