There are passages into adulthood that vividly stand out in my mind. For example, do you remember the first time you wrote a check to buy groceries for your first home? Do you recall the first check you wrote to the electric company or the first time you went to the bar without using a fake ID? Or how about the first time you deducted mortgage interest on the 1040 tax form?

This year I made another passage into adulthood, and while it happened to me much later than most, it is significant and noteworthy nonetheless:

For the first time ever, I put presents under the Christmas tree a full month before Christmas Eve.

For the last eighteen years, I have done ALL of my Christmas shopping on the eve of December 23rd or the morning of the 24th. Due to my last minute shopping habit, I have battled crabby people, exhausted employees, empty shelves, empty checking account, bad weather and poor road conditions. Sometimes my excuse was that I had so many small children that opportunity to shop was difficult. Sometimes I was waiting for a paycheck to be deposited and sometimes it was just outright denial that Christmas was upon us.

Not this year.

This year I found deals. I bought, I wrapped and I conquered my stubborn Christmas procrastination gene when I placed the beautifully wrapped gifts under the tree. I even used code words on the gift tags rather than the children's names so they would not have opportunity to figure out what their gifts were before Opening Day. I thought my family would be so proud! Proud doesn't even come close to my children's response.

"What? You want us to wait a MONTH before
opening these presents?"

"You didn't even put our real names on the gifts?
How are we supposed to know whose is whose?"

"This is pure TORTURE!"

The seven little ghosts of Christmas present began to drive me crazy when they began to practice Donald Trump's methods in "Art of the Deal". You know, "Never take no for an answer!" kinda stuff.

"Mom" pleaded Nathanael, "If I write you 12,000 love notes, will you let me open a present?"

Well now, there is an idea!

I told my children that if they could write numbers 1 to 1 million on paper, I would let them open a gift early. Nathanael was the exception. He could write the word "Mom" one million times instead. How perfect! It would keep them busy and they would all get off my back as they waited for Christmas. Even if they worked on it day and night for 35 straight days, they only had

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