Monday, December 19, 2011

Why are all the Fairies in our Lives so Damn Slow?

Henry - Apologizing for his Lateness
My kids have been asking me this a lot lately (minus the word “damn” of course).  We haven't had a good track record with "Fairies" in our family recently.  Our Tooth Fairy took nearly a week to remember to pick up a simple tooth.  Henry the Shelf-Elf hangs out on the Christmas tree like he's on vacation - Santa's not getting any feedback from our little elf.  About the only family "Fairy" to consistently get it right has been the Csunya Neni and she's really more of a Witch than a Fairy. 

The Tooth Fairy was the first big disappointment.  Every night for a week Renton would put his tooth under his pillow and every morning he'd wake to disappointment.  The nerve of that woman!  And it happened more than once.  Three teeth in fact!  With the last sad failure to meet punctuality standards, the Tooth Fairy had to exchange a few letters with Renton, explaining how she was a bit overworked, but that she still loved Renton and his teeth and would never forget him completely.  This smoothed things over, but I believe the experience will stick with him.  He’s told me that from now on, as soon as his teeth start wiggling, he’s going to put messages out for the Tooth Fairy giving her a heads up so his tooth doesn’t spend a week wasting a away under his pillow.  (This sounds vaguely familiar - like when my friends let it out of the bag that they had started adding 30 minutes BEFORE the actual time for events and meetups with them, just so I’d actually get there on time.  So THAT was it!  I just thought my friends had started arriving late as well.)

Anyway, Christmas time is here and along with it, the tradition of the shelf-elf.  I don’t know WHY I introduced this little guy into my family last year.  It’s not as if I wasn’t already overwhelmed with life.  Adding another elf into it certainly wasn’t going to make things any easier for ME.  But I think, as I commented in the Cookie Cutter Traditions post, that I was desperately trying to make up for “missing family connections” by installing some “classic” traditions into ours.  (I have now come to realize – thanks largely to the supportive feedback of friends and family - that my little band of merry children will undoubtedly remember the traditions that occur naturally in our home whether I force them on us or not.)  

So last year, Henry (our little elf) was pretty good.  Mind you, I do NOT do all the fun and crazy activities that many of my friends do with their elves.  I will also tell you that if I HAD the time I would LOVE to be creative and spontaneous and crazy with the elf; delighting at the giggles and gleams in my children’s eyes every morning, and pleasing myself with my ingenuity.  (Though I would NEVER do the messy tricks.  I prefer an OCD elf, thank you very much.)  My lack of creativity has nothing to do with any moral stance against teaching my children to expect miracles and joy around Christmas.  I’d love to instill this kind of wonder and belief in them.  Life itself will teach them otherwise soon enough – if it hasn’t already.  But the simple fact is, I was happy with myself for even PURCHASING the elf and putting him on the tree.

This year, Henry has fallen fall short of all our expectations.  He arrived with our tree (as he always does), but then he promptly decided to be lazy and just hang around “watching.”  One morning, about three days after he arrived, I watched Renton out of the corner of my eye, move Henry from the tree to the bookshelf.  “Mom!  Look!  Henry moved!!!”  He shouted with glee!  Emily and Micky came running to see the miracle of the moving Elf!  “Wow!”  I added, playing along.  “When do you think he did that?  I didn’t see him do it?  Did you?”  “No way.” Insisted Renton.  “He must have just been tired.  But he’s moving now.”

My little Renton – he’s already filling in the spaces where I am falling short.  There was a little pang of sadness in my heart that Renton felt the need to move Henry (or that he even lost even the slightest belief in him that he knew a PERSON had to move the little guy ‘cause he wasn’t doing it on his own).  But I was also extremely proud of Renton, that he realized how important this need to believe was, for all of us, for Emily and Micky, that he was willing to jump right in and keep the tradition going and not blow it for the little ones.

This weekend, I drove my kids down to my parents’ house in NC where they’d be staying for their first week of Christmas Vacation.  I forgot (big surprise here) to slip Henry into one of the suitcases (like I’d done last year) so that he could hitch a ride and keep watching them down in NC.  After reading the HILARIOUS post People I Want to Punch in the Throat: Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies, my mom looked at me and said, “What about your shelf elf?  What are you going to do now that yours is still stuck up in NC?”  I hung my head in shame.  “I don’t know.  Maybe Henry can send the kids letters everyday and tell them that he wanted to stay up in VA and keep an eye on Mommy to make sure she was being good.”

“I’ve got an idea!” my mom exclaimed!  “I have these great red velvet bags.  I can leave one out each morning for the kids with a note or a little something in it from your shelf elf.  Then they can feel like he’s still watching them.”  Great idea!  And my mom is one of those who can whip up creative ideas in her sleep, so I KNEW she’d do something fun with the kids with this and they’d be happy and willing to have faith in the spirit of Christmas again.

This morning I called to talk to the kids and see how things had gone last night for my mom (hoping, at the very least, that there had been no visits from the poop monster).

“Oh dear” my mom started.  “Henry failed again.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, actually a little confused at this point because I’d already forgotten about the shelf elf AGAIN.

“I got the kids all excited about the red bags, then forgot to put them out.  I told them they were hiding somewhere in the house, but the kids have literally looked everywhere and obviously can’t find them.”

Just then, Renton jumped on the phone.  In the most pitiful voice you can imagine (and if you know Renton, you know how pitiful he can sound) he said to me, “This has been the biggest disappointment, Mommy.  I have looked everywhere.  Nothing.”

“Oh, sweetheart."  I reassured him, already spinning the comforting lies.  "We forgot to let Henry know you were going to be down at Gramma and Grampa’s this week!  When I get home from work today I will let him know.  I’m sure he’ll straighten everything out.”

“Okay, Mommy.”  Renton answered, already sounding a bit more cheerful. 

“But tell Henry to quit hanging around with the Tooth Fairy.  She’s a bad influence.”

2 comments:

twisterfish said...

Every time I read or hear about this elf on a shelf I'm soooo glad we skipped it!

I find it funny that this elf is considered a holiday "classic" when it just started in 2005. But, hey, that doesn't matter -- what you are doing is most certainly creating a family tradition: one where you have a lazy elf! Just because your elf doesn't do what other elves do, doesn't mean it's not a tradition... your children will remember what your elf did (or didn't do) and not what he was supposed to do. I'm sure when your kids gather as adults they'll laugh about their elf and most likely do the same tradition with their kids.


(p.s. We've had that same tooth fairy as well, and it's helped for me to set my phone alarm for 10pm to remind her to show up. She hardly ever forgets anymore.)

Rebecca said...

Heehee. I know. I'm actually laughing now at the idea that my kids may actually remember these things more than others BECAUSE they're always late. It's the uniqueness that makes it memorable. Thanks, as always, for reminding me! You always put a positive spin on things for me. :))