Elf on the Shelf for the Lazy Mom

I get it. You see all of these fancy elves filling up your social media feed, and you think to yourself, “hey, I love my kids just as much as those moms do, but dang that’s just too much and I’m way too lazy.” Or maybe you’re thinking, “I work 40-500 hours a week between work, kids and everything else going on, that’s just too much.”

Well, have no fear. Elf on the Shelf for the lazy mom is here!

I, like you, love my kids dearly. I think they’re the best things ever, and it’s not a blow to the ego that they look like me, so that makes them adorable to boot. Though, I think this whole trend of making your kid’s childhood magical AF and hurt feelings free is complete crap, I do want them to have a little fun with that dang ugly creepy elf. Plus, he freaks my oldest child and husband out. To me, that makes our little tan elf magical enough. 

Let’s get down to the lazy elf business. 

1.  The first thing you want to do is buy the elf on a shelf. You can buy a knock off, or spend the $30 on the name brand elf on a shelf. Bring him home to your kids and let them pick out a name. You can read the book if you want to, or you can skip to the end so you know the gist and go on about your merry way.

2.     Step two is something that will make your life so much easier. Let your chubby faced kids know that they are not allowed to touch the creepy elf or he will lose his magic. This step is important, because if you’re reading this, then you have kids and you know that they can’t resist touching something they’re not supposed to. This will save you on the days you forget to move the elf, or you just don’t feel like it. When they ask why the elf didn’t move, just say “someone must’ve touched him.” If you have more than one kid they’ll turn on each other and you can be satisfied they’re not looking at you as the culprit.

3.      3.  The elf does not need to do anything extravagant, unless you’re feeling extra supermom-y that day. My elf is currently sitting inside of our toaster because he wanted to be a bagel and got stuck. He’s not the brightest elf on a shelf, and yours doesn’t have to be either. They’re Santa’s drones, how smart can they be?

4.       4.  If you remember that you forgot to move the elf, just leave him in the same spot but switch his pose. Or place him somewhere else, remember, elves are stupid and kids are too. And no, I don’t mean your kid isn’t the smartest four year old that ever lived. I mean developmentally, kids are not the brightest crayons in the box either, or let’s face it, they wouldn’t be believing the elf who is made out of plastic and felt is flying to the North Pole to tell some imaginary fat guy what they were up to in order to get Christmas presents. 

5.     5.  Start off slow. Don’t set yourself up for failure or your kids up for disappointment. If you decide to buy the elf, start off by just moving him from surface to surface. If you do this, then when you get a wild hair to try something you saw on Pintrest, your kid will be amazed at your elf’s shenanigans when he does do something interesting. 

6.     6.  Just have fun! No matter what you do, your kid will still think you poop rainbows. You popped those crying little chubby things out. You feed them and shove them out the door so the school can feed them when you forget to pack a lunch, or just don’t pack a lunch. You pick them up when they fall and either kiss their little knees, or tell them to suck it up. Either way, you’re already a kick ace mom and that little elf with his dumb annoying self will be magical AF for your little boogers.

People, I Have a Problem!

So. We have acquired a kitten. I know you’re thinking to yourself “how does one just acquire a kitten?” Let me answer that for you. I belong to a page on Facebook for military wives. I am no longer a military wife, but my kids are military kids and it’s nice to have a group of ladies that understand the struggles.

Anyway, someone found an itty bitty kitty playing in the road outside of the base. They of course posted an adorable photo of the kitten asking for some pushover (raises hand “me”) to foster or adopt the kitten. I have too many animals, and some may question if I have too many children as well, but I thought I could totally foster this tiny baby cat until we collectively found her a forever home.

I picked up the cat like an obvious drug deal going down in the middle of the parking lot of a local bakery, but instead of exchanging drugs for money, we exchanged a kitten for a handshake and gratitude. Well, I can’t think of a good reason that I shouldn’t keep her. She’s got a sweet round face and patch work fur. She squeaks and meows. She does obvious cat stuff. She adopted us as her people, and now I can’t give her away. 

No one let me foster another animal. I cannot handle the responsibility. I just can’t do it. I’m a few animals away from being a hoarder.

Yes. I know I have a problem.

Meet our new kitten, Callie Cat!

One day, I too will be a motherless mom

My 36^th birthday crept up on me very quickly. It truly feels like I just turned twenty-five last year, but I digress. This past year I have become more aware of my mortality, as well as the mortality of my parents, but especially my mother. Sure, I learned about this stage of development in adults entering middle age and I understand that it’s perfectly normal. I guess I just didn’t expect for me to hit me at the most inopportune time, my birthday.

Every year my mom calls me for my birthday and before I can speak, she begins singing me the Happy Birthday song. Every year without fail, she sings me the song and proceeds to tell me that my birthday isn’t really until later in the evening, around 7:10 EST. I know that I can count on this phone call, no matter what she’s doing. This year she was at work, and made a point to step out during her morning break and call me for my birthday song. This year was also the year that my adult brain decided it was time to hit this developmental milestone of the middle aged. As my mom happily sang to me as she’s done every year that I can remember, the backs of my eyes began to sting, and a lump formed in my throat. 

For the first time in my entire life, it dawned on me, that I should soak up every pitch of her voice and the way she formed all of her words, because one birthday the phone wouldn’t ring. One birthday instead of awkwardly smiling while she finished the song, instead I would be crying because it would be the first year that I didn’t hear that high pitched squeal following her melodic celebration of my birth. 

Now, as a person in my thirties, I certainly have experienced death, and have several friends that have lost one or both parents. Knowing someone that has lost a parent is not the same as losing one yourself, and the weight that comes along with it. In fact, I’m not sure I would know how to parent without my mom. I still call my mom for all kinds of advice or when my feelings are hurt. I can’t help but want my mom to help me feel better. 

For now, I have decided that I can’t fear what may come in the future. While I still have the luxury of celebrating major life events with my mom, I’m going to enjoy it. I’ll just be sure to cherish the things that I once took for granted. I’ll ask the questions that I don’t remember the answers to. I’ll call and do my best to visit more. I’ll soak up her scent and commit it to memory. 

My mom is one of my very best friends, and when she gets old my siblings and I will likely fight over who she is going to live with (seriously, I see this becoming a very real issue for us). She has taken the time to make each of us feel special, and has nurtured our individual personal relationships with her. I strive daily to be at least half the mom that she was, and is to me. 

One day, I too will be a motherless mom, but today I’m just not ready and may not ever be.

~J~