Scarlett wants an Elf on the Shelf in our house this holiday season. Many of you are probably years deep into this Santa’s little helper phenomenon, but to my knowledge this is the first year Scarlett has been made aware of it. My first reaction to her request was that it would create a lot of extra work for me, meaning the people around me who are tasked with being my “hands.” In the grand scheme of things, moving an elf around the house so that he’s in a different place every morning doesn’t seem that complicated. But when you have a dog who eats garbage, and you yourself cannot go to the bathroom without being bodily lifted on and off the toilet, you may be more reticent to add to the list of things you are asking others to accomplish on your behalf.
Scarlet took immediate issue to this, and set out to reassure me that I simply didn’t understand how the Elf on the Shelf worked. “You don’t have to do anything,” she explained. “He moves himself. He’s alive.”
“Oh,” I said. “Does that mean he’s going to eat our food?”
“No! He doesn’t eat food! He just moves around and watches you and reports back to Santa if you’re not behaving.”
“Sounds good to me,” Rob piped up from across the room. I saw his point. Good behavior motivation is occasionally in short supply in our house.
Scarlett then continued talking about the Elf on the Shelf, but here’s all I heard: “Words words words words words words words words [Breath] words words words words words words words [Bizarrely Long Pause To Contemplate Otto] words words words words words words words AND IF YOU TOUCH HIM, HE DIES.”
A lot of Scarlett’s friends have these little fellows, and I recently learned that you can even buy clothing for them. Ah, the holidays. When all I want to do is drink hot chocolate and sit around the Christmas tree, the world continues to work out ways for us to spend money on ridiculous things that we’ve decided we must have. And I always play the game, because it’s fun when you have a child who believes in the magic of everything. It’s a magical season for me, too. I love making Christmas cards and sending them out to friends and family, love the Christmas Eve traditional menu in our home (loosely based on the Italian feast of the seven fishes.) I love giving gifts that I know people will like, and playing Christmas music I remember my own mom playing when we were growing up, including George Winston’s December, which will forever put me right into my warm childhood living room, white candles on the mirror ledge, and the smell of hot cider coming from the kitchen.
I have a lot of expectations for myself around the holidays, and I’m working on letting those go, because it’s obvious to me and anyone who looks at me that I’m not the same efficient machine I used to be every December. I’m doing my best. We will have gifts. We will probably not have Christmas cards, and that is certainly okay. Except that, if I’m being honest, it doesn’t feel so okay. The concern I have been having lately, that ALS is taking the reins, is growing pretty big this month as every morning I set out to conquer another item on the to-do list, and every afternoon I have to admit that nothing got done. Sometimes I think I’m in denial, that I should just stop trying so hard, succumb to my exhaustion, and realize–like the Grinch did–that Christmas will come anyway. But it’s not that simple. I’m the mom. I still have a job to do, and I’m still working on doing it, one slow step at a time.
I’m pretty sure, however, that I don’t need an Elf on the Shelf to add to the general madness. I’m afraid of what he would tell Santa about me, anyway.
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He’d say he wishes he could pick you up like Rudolph and take you on his trip to deliver all the toys and cheer.
The nice thing about this holiday is if you make hot chocolate, sing carols and eat cookies with your loved ones and extended loved ones, you’ll create memories. Try to simplify! I love you all!!
Ha ha. Doesn’t Santa see you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if ypu’ve been good or bad so be good for goodness sakes. That used to be enough to encourage good behavior. I am glad the elf on a shelf came along after Andy was too big. I am not a grinch but I do prefer simplicity in my holidays. Your current health situation sounds a lot like Stan”s now. He always has a list of things he wants to get done and ends up laying in bed reading or sleeping instead. So looking forward to seeing you next Friday. I hope you are well. Andy has a cold I am trying not to catch. Better go use cough assist
This is the first year that elf made it into our house; my daughter is 6.
He’s a pain in the ass who has caused me to set a 10 pm alarm on this single, tired, working mom’s phone to remember he’s gotta find a new spot.
Next year, one thing is certain. My daughter will get a letter from Santa day after Thanksgiving alerting her that the elf will arrive week before Christmas and report back that crucial week, and not the whole month (cause the elf’s territory requires he split the month). That will help. Might help you all, too.
Love this post. And love Nana’s reply. Xx
Get the Elf. Let Rob move him about or ask a helper. They will do it. Then pour some Bailey’s in your Hot Chocolate and let it go. You got this.
I love this elf on the shelf idea. On Sunday some friends ran a benefit comedy show for TDI and the comedienne host dressed as an elf.
We have an elf and it’s really fun to see how excited the kids get looking for him/her (apparently it went through gender transition this year). That being said, it can be a total pain in the ass moving it each night. There are some great ideas on Pinterest and only doing it for a week before Christmas is a stroke of genius.