So long, yule!

FullSizeRender-2So long, yule!  So long!  I started the elf tradition in my home 7 years ago.  My daughter named him Artie which is obviously the most perfect elf name ever and would wake up every morning trying to find him around the house.  It was an exciting time.  Then I had my second daughter and the tradition began becoming a little more work than it did the first time and two years after my second daughter was born came the over achievers.  Now elves were turning milk green, hanging with Barbie, zip lining… They were freaking zip lining and our pal Artie would just pop up on a random shelf around the house.  He even followed us on vacation once.
This year the holidays were a little different in my home.  A lot was going on and our elf tradition along with many other traditions took a back seat.  Artie wrote a letter to my daughters because they were fighting like cats and dogs, you know, the usual.  In his letter he told them he would not return because he stopped having candy cane and sugar plum filled dreams because of all of their fighting.  The truth is, I was sick of moving him.  He returned and my children questioned my honesty by insinuating that our elf had not moved all day long.  “He moved.  He’s just back to where he was before.”, I said.  “No mommy, he was in that exact same position when we left.”, my daughter said. “So now you are calling your mother a liar!  TO! YOUR! ROOM!”  The level of disrespect on their part was intolerable.  Calling me, their mother, a liar?  I mean, I was lying but still . I know, I’m terrible, I’m scarring them but if you think I felt an ounce of guilt, I didn’t.
My son had his first REAL Christmas this year.  He woke up alongside his sisters at 7AM and ran to the tree to see the “choo chow twains” that Santa had left.  My daughters ripped through Frozen wrapping paper and the nail polish in their stockings was completely used in a few hours.  They read their farewell letter from our dear friend Artie and can’t wait to see him next year.  My son wakes up every morning to remind me that Artie left and my daughters are still pissed about their sissy gifts to one another.  Christmas was memorable this year…  360 days to go…  I can’t wait.

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