Hip Moms Who Work

For the past three days my kids have made their beds, kept their room clean, brushed their teeth and haven’t talked back to me.  I have not had to ask or yell. You are DYING to know my secret, aren’t you? It’s killing you! No, it’s not Nanny Jo. It’s the Elf on the Shelf.

“Who is this effin’ Elf?” you ask. I found him (I guess he could also be a she. The red tights and elfin shoes are kinda girlie, come to think of it) at a local toy boutique. The Elf came in a beautiful box accompanied by a lovely book giving us his story and “rules” – like that you can’t touch him or he’ll lose his magic. During the day he/she/it sits somewhere up high in your house and at night flies to the North Pole to tell Santa whether your children have been naughty or nice. Each morning he comes back before the kiddies wake, claiming a new perch somewhere.  

But, perfect behavior from your children is not the best part of giving one of Santa’s workshop bitches a spot on your shelf. The best part is the complete innocence and belief the kids have in the magic of the Elf.  The first thing my boys do every morning is wake up together to go find the Elf (who we have named “Spike”). They run around the house until they find him and then yell. “OH. MY. GOSH!” when they find him. It’s so adorable. It melts your heart and makes you realize that soon your kids will no longer believe in Santa and elves and that these are moments we need to cherish.