Tyranny of the Elf

With December coming to a close, I feel like I should share the latest chapter in my life with the Elf on the Shelf.

For anyone who may have missed this saga, it all started when I innocently posted this statement on my facebook feed..."The 'Elf on the Shelf' is a truly brilliant idea - I can't bring myself to buy one because I don't really have time to do more #%$&! things for Christmas - but I do admire the genius behind it."  

Magically, on December 11th, 2013 an Elf on the Shelf appeared in my home, Abby named her Crystal, I bought her a skirt (wtf?!!) and the magic began.

After completely misplacing Crystal last year, she reappeared in our lives on December 1st.  The first night, I forgot to move her - the first night!!!  Abby cried and was completely convinced that she was dead because she touched her the night before.  I assured her that Crystal was just tired from her long journey and in doing so, sealed my fate for the next long 23 days.  

Every night, as I entered that blissful relaxed state of almost asleep, I would jolt awake with a loud "shxx, I forgot to move the Elf!".  Jeff would grunt and I would begrudgingly flop out of bed and with zero creativity or enthusiasm find another spot to place the Elf.  Every now and then, I would see facebook statuses of creative and over-enthusiatic friends who somehow had the energy to place their elf in any number of inventive, clever and naughty poses and feel bad for not putting more thought into my Elf placement.  But, it didn't last:).  I told Abby we are very lucky that we got a polite Elf and that some people had very bad elves that ruined stuff in their homes - just to be proactive with an answer to the inevitable "mom, why do all my other friends' elves do silly things with toilet paper around their house and ours just moves?".

We finally get to Christmas Eve.  At 12:15 am, after wrapping Santa gifts and filling stockings, I was just beginning to doze off when I remembered...the Elf has to go back to the North Pole. Gleefully, I jumped out of bed, ran to her last perch, grabbed Crystal and threw her into the bottom drawer of my nightstand - making a mental note to be sure to find a better hiding place when I put all of the Christmas stuff away.

Yesterday, after spending a wonderful few days in Montana with friends, Abby is getting herself ready for bed when she yells..."mom, I just found something very disappointing!!!".  I run upstairs to find her pointing into my open bedside table drawer screaming, Crystal is still here!  After yelling at her - what are you doing in my private stuff (I panicked) - I sat down to console my distraught daughter.  I said, well, maybe Crystal liked it so much here, she didn't want to go home.  Then Abby started crying, saying "what if I really did kill her when I touched her mom and she couldn't get home?".  For one long second, I saw my way out.  I thought, yeah, I could say she died, throw a little Elf funeral and never have to jump out of bed to move Crystal again.  Then I found myself saying, no Abby, she probably just really loved it here, I'm sure now that we're home, she'll go.  This morning, she was gone and Abby was entirely relieved.

I feel a bit like the Grinch when his heart grew 3 sizes, I realized that I am not ready for my final child to stop believing, not yet.  So, Crystal lives on and the tyranny of the elf continues...stay tuned for the 2015 instalment:)