Courtesy of Terri Peters
My kids are 14 and 16 now, but they held onto their belief in Elf on the Shelf for over a decade. When they were preschoolers, I'd set up elaborate displays showing Jingle and Garland (each kid had their own elf, naturally) pulling all sorts of pranks. Over the years, the elves toilet-papered the bathroom, hung everyone's underwear on the Christmas tree, and made snow angels in flour on my kitchen counter.
I have always been, if nothing else, organized. Each year I'd make a spreadsheet with the elves' activities for the entire month of December. December 3? Fishing in the kitchen sink with Goldfish crackers. December 18? Stealing Baby Jesus from the nativity set. The ideas varied from maximum mom effort to simple. Like Christmas gifts, I'd buy the supplies in advance and store them away so I had what I needed for a month of elfin shenanigans.
Courtesy of Terri Peters
I'll never forget times when, as we sat at dinner, my 6-year-old daughter would dreamily say, "I wonder what the elves will do tomorrow?" or the moments I'd hear my 8-year-old son exchanging stories with his friends at school about what everyone's elves did the night before.
We were an all-in elf family: We watched the "Elf on the Shelf" holiday cartoon special, we owned EOTS pajamas, we added Elf Pets — like a reindeer and a St. Bernard — to the fold, and I … well, I was exhausted keeping up with it all.
"I forgot to move the elves," I'd sometimes groan, warm under the covers and ready for bed. More times than I care to admit, I was up at midnight sneaking around the house, setting up scenes to make my kids think the elves drew mustaches on our family photos or were taken hostage by their Lego minifigures. Later, on bleary-eyed coffee dates with mom friends, we'd commiserate over our hatred of the elf, which always seemed strange to me, considering it was an evil we willingly brought on ourselves.
Courtesy of Terri Peters
My kids' disbelief in Santa Claus and all the magic that comes with him came later than other kids. In fact, after a particular Christmas of wearing myself out with the magic-making, I told my husband, "I am so sick of an imaginary man getting credit for all the hard work I do as their mom." Tired of the Santa-run patriarchy, I decided if they were still living in the world of make-believe by Easter, I'd spill the beans.
Courtesy of Terri Peters
When Easter rolled around, I had to sit my 11 and 13-year-old kids down and tell them the truth. They admitted they'd suspected it for a while and, of their own accord, asked my husband if they could make me an Easter basket that year. Inside were all my favorites: lottery scratch-offs, lip gloss, Hot Tamales, and a copy of "The Velveteen Rabbit," my favorite children's book. Inside, they'd written, "Mom, thank you for all of the magical holidays."
Courtesy of Terri Peters
For the first few elf-free Christmases, we jokingly moved Jingle and Garland from room to room. I'd slide the elves behind the mirror of my daughter's dresser then, the next day, find the creepy little felt creatures staring up at me from my office desk. These days, however, the elves are stationary. They are quite literally on the shelf, sitting on a bookshelf with some other holiday decorations as a relic of Christmases past. And, hear me out: I miss them.
Raising two teenagers is wildly fun and I'm not the mom who often laments how "fast it all goes" and pine for the toddler years. Still, there's a bit of magic missing from my home during the holidays — magic that left with my kids' belief that Jingle and Garland, two scout elves from the North Pole, returned to Santa nightly to report on their behavior and came back to pull silly pranks each morning while they slept.
I'll never be the parent who tells younger moms and dads to "enjoy every moment," because parenting is stressful and hard. But I will tell you this: Enjoy those late nights waiting for your kids to fall asleep so you can move your Elf on the Shelf to its next destination. Relish in those little voices shrieking in delight about elves found having sack races with stuffed animals or tea parties with Barbie dolls. Memorize the faces and the giggles and the joy that Elf on the Shelf brings because, believe it or not, you will miss it one day.
And pro tip? Set a reminder on your phone to move that darn elf before you get snuggled into bed for the night.
