The other day, in a group full of moms, the subject of the Elf on the Shelf came up. If your a mom of kids, I’m sure you’ve heard about him, set an elaborate scene with him, or vowed to never have one enter your house. Feelings are strong with this one. Either you love it or hate it. Our elf Buddy came to visit a few years ago. My kiddos loved him. Most of the kids in school didn’t have one, so my boys never came home and told me, “Jimmy’s elf baked him cookies last night” or “Emma’s elf brings her a gift every morning!”. It seems like the more kids that got the elf, and the more pinterest exploded, the more my Holiday evenings got more stressful. Because suddenly my boys were coming home telling me these things. Forgetting to move the elf resulted in a disaster that would require much assurance that the elf was not dysfunctional or even worse—dead.
Last year, after a late night of baking cookies and doing regular mommy duties, my then 13 year old told me the elf needed to be moved. I did what all respectable moms would do. I told him to move it.
|A little supervision is required. I did remove the soldier from Buddy's head after taking a picture.|
And it was if a whole new world opened up for the both of us.
My teen suddenly got to get his creativity going.
He would get so excited and spend hours that day, just dreaming up what Buddy would be up to next.
He didn’t seem to worry if things were “perfect”. He only worried that it was fun!
There were a few times (especially at the end was drawing near), where he realized it was a bit of work.
He’s already asked if he has permission to do it again, and me being the lazy awesome mom that I am, I am once again giving him control.
He learns all about spreading anonymous cheer —isn’t that the best lesson of Christmas? And an added bonus- I don’t have to worry about remembering to move the elf!