Tis the Season... to find the most decorated houses!

One of my favorite traditions when I was a little girl was driving around to look at the lights.  Back then my grandma still lived in Burbank and there were about 3 different blocks that were filled with lawns full of reindeer and wise men and more lights than an airport needs to land planes.  I remember driving up and down neighborhood blocks oohing and aahing at the Santa that would wave from the sleigh on the rooftop.  If it was nice enough out, my parents and I would get out of the car and walk the block to see the rows of houses sporting their spirit.  I remember being so in awe of the twinkling lights and standing on the sidewalk looking up at all these decorations and thinking to myself, "Wow, it really is magical!"

As we grow up, we realize it is not quite magic, but more appropriately a lot of work climbing up on the roof and hauling out all the decor from the attic and crawl space to create this magical time of year.

One of the things that I am most grateful for is being able to experience that magic again through W's eyes!  Watching his face light up when he pushes the button for the singing Mickey on the tree brings back wonderful memories of when I thought it was the coolest thing in the world to be able to hold the strand of lights for my Dad while he decorated the tree.  Listening to him talk while he is in the backseat as we drive home at night passing house upon house covered in lights and hearing him say, "Wow!... Wow!.... Wow!" tugs at every one of my heart strings.  It reminds me of a time when I believed in magic and miracles and really genuinely believed that Rudolf's red nose was that blinking light in the sky on the way to Nana's for Christmas eve.  (It was not until I was about 10 that my Dad broke the news that it was not Rudolf, but the light on top of the water tower... I was truly heart broken.)

Although W was not as impressed as I was with the idea to ride around in the car looking at lights.  My parents and I still managed to enjoy a half hour or so of oohing and aahing at lights before W's protest forced us to go home.  Unlike when I was young, we went straight home without stopping for hot chocolate, but the experience brought back a lot of happy memories for everyone involved.