It's the music that gets to me. Those Yuletide carols of old push me to be all that I can be, making Christmas the domain of fur-clad wonder women. Only instead of magic bracelets, I have oven mitts. Instead of a golden rope, I have a to do list just as long. Replace the dynamic smile of Wonder Woman with the grin of a crazed reveler and you would have me. Every year I say I'm not going to go through that again, and every year the music gets me anew, transforming me from an average woman into a happy holiday horror.

Deck the Halls With Boughs of Holly
WARNING: Holly hurts. I tried to use holly one year and ended up with hands so full of holes you could use them for colanders. The next year I used tinsel. I also use popcorn strings and those cheesy paper loop chains. One year, my husband threatened to turn me in for violating child labor laws because I made our kids cut construction paper strips for ten hours. I told him we were making memories. I think the effect is lovely. One of my friends came over and told me it looked like someone had tossed their Christmas cookies up all over my living room. Maybe the five-foot flashing neon bells were a bit much. Come to think of it, that's probably why my family wore sunglasses every time they came in the house and the electric company sends me thank you notes.

Jolly Old St. Nicholas (Turn Your Head Away)
Every year you will find me waiting in line for three hours to force my kids to get their picture taken on Santa's lap. My kids don't even believe in Santa anymore for crying out loud. "Mom," my daughter told me, "Santa has bad breath." "Then give him a breath mint!" I snapped. Maybe it's time you gave Santa something back for a change.

Christmas is Coming, The Goose is Getting Fat
I received a fine from our friendly neighborhood association the first Christmas I tried to raise a goose. No barn animals in city limits. That's okay -- I wasn't sure how to dress a goose anyway, or a turkey for that matter. I have a hard enough time getting the kids dressed and out the door, let alone trying to dress up my food.

Dashing Through The Snow
I like this one because it describes me perfectly. I dash here and I dash there. Here a dash, there a dash, everywhere a mad dash.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, How Lovely Are Your...
Am I the only person whose ceiling lowers itself by two feet every Christmas? Or whose kitties think the tree is a lovely gift just for them? We spent $80.00 on a tree stand last year. $80.00! And we still had to put a magazine under one leg ... go figure.

Wahoo Doris Mop The Floris
(Just to let you know, I'm not sure what the words to this song are. This is what my kids deciphered after I tried for twenty years to figure out what the Whos from Whoville were singing to make the Grinch's heart grow three sizes that day. If anyone out there knows the answer to this age-old mystery, please let me know.)

I still haven't figured out how to clean after setting up two dozen Santas in my house. How does one go about dusting five-foot neon bells anyway? Or how do you mop around the Christmas tree and the 300 hundred piece Christmas village with the real working choo choo train? Or clean the refrigerator that is chilling 16 different kinds of pinwheel cookies? And the most puzzling question of all.... Does anyone really like pin wheel cookies?

From the first jingling bell to the last fa la la la la, I'm a lunatic. Is it any wonder that December 26th will find me yanking down the tree and throwing twinkle lights in boxes with great sighs of relief? Not even a pine needle left to tell that we ever celebrated Christmas. My family's just lucky that Easter doesn't have any songs!