just call us the Griswolds

This past weekend the hubs and I finished putting up the rest of our outside Christmas decorations. A small part of me wonders what the neighbors must think. Are they shaking their heads and questioning, "Who in the world moved in next door, the Griswolds?"

But a bigger part of me remembers. I remember sitting in the car with my parents as a child, driving through neighborhoods looking for Christmas lights. The more a house had, the more ooooos and ahhhhhs we gave it. I remember being so excited when we would find "a good one," the kind that you can see from miles away. I want my house to be one of those houses. So let the neighbors call me crazy, but I bet you a five-year-old will say it's awesome.

Hopefully as Quinn gets older, he'll be proud of his house and not embarrassed by it. I know it makes my heart happy.