Christmas in July

At our house, it is Christmas in July. Not because we have decided to punctuate the summer with visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads, but because David decided it is so. About a week ago, he kept asking for the "tree with ornaments" and like any good mother, I ignored the request. I knew exactly what he wanted; it is a green felt advent calendar in the shape of a Christmas tree that I bought at Hallmark several years ago. You count the days until Christmas by matching the number on the colorful felt ornament with the number on the tree. David was totally enamored with it last Christmas and insisted on carrying it around. Because the ornaments attach to the tree with a magnet sewn inside, we were constantly leaving ornaments in our wake. And because David had his favorite ornaments, which included all of the circle ornaments, the package, the snowman with sunglasses and the star with a stocking hat, we were constantly searching for the missing piece.

There were nights when David would be tucked safely in bed—or, more accurately, tucked safely on bed since he refuses to sleep under the covers—and he would start to yell, "Eighteen…eighteen." My husband would look at me and ask me what he wanted and I would tell him that David was missing the number 18 from the tree. Michael would start to ask me how he could possibly know and then stop short. Of course, he knows.

I had finally managed to locate all of the ornaments and hide the tree by about February, but now for whatever reason, David had remembered and asked for it again. I finally relented and the tree hangs alongside our Fourth of July decorations in a strange salute to holidays.

Now, in order to enhance our Christmas experience, David has added repeated viewings of Wiggly, Wiggly Christmas to the mix. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the Wiggles, but it is a tired VHS tape that has begun to stretch and the warped version of "Feliz Navidad" is about to send me over the edge. At least Andrew is now old enough that he no longer repeats the question he used to ask when David was originally fascinated with this tape. "Hey Mom, who is Felix Navidad, anyway?"