There is no Elf on the Shelf at our house.
(Editor's Note: Elf on the Shelf = recent cultural phenomenon where you take a toy elf, give it a nickname, and move it into different places in your home every morning to make your children believe that it's watching them and reporting back to Santa on whether they are naughty or nice.)
You (the family) give your elf a fun name, like Candy Cane, or Rudolph, or Bing Crosby, and then you (the parent) move them around each night. You (the parent) are supposed to be creative.
I love my family. I love Christmas. Beyond words.
But, you know what? I am not doing this. I will forget. I will not be creative. Is it really necessary? Is that elf a little creepy? Do we need it?
Instead, I snagged a picture of myself with Santa at Christmas Affair. It's on my phone. I showed it to Jack and told him that Santa and I are buddies, and that I could call him at any moment if Jack was being naughty.
I mean, I think that's pretty creative, and it doesn't involve me smearing Nutella on a doll's face when I'd really rather be sleeping.
Also, when you're 5 months pregnant, you try to streamline things, and you tend to be a little more blunt than usual. So, there's also that.
Hope you find a way to keep it real today.