Why We Skipped the Elf on the Shelf

home insemination Kit

I’m not a therapist or a psychologist, and let’s be honest, I never quite made it to that minor in psychology I had my eye on in college. But I do know that I often use humor as a way to cope. I laugh off pain and reframe sadness to make it easier to handle.

Take the Elf on the Shelf, for instance. Like many others, I poke fun at it. I act like I’m too busy or too lazy for the whole thing. But if I’m being real (and okay, I am a bit lazy), the truth is that the Elf brings back memories of a childhood elf that I can’t shake off.

Growing up, my brother and I had our own little tradition during December. We’d play hide and seek with that elf. First, he’d hide it in the living room while I searched, and he’d sit back, teasing me about whether I was getting “hotter” or “colder.” We shared so much laughter and joy with that game, and it became a cherished part of our Christmas season, long after we were supposed to be “too old” for kids’ games.

But since my brother passed away two years ago, the elf has become a painful reminder. I can’t see it without feeling a tightness in my chest or wondering if he was battling his own demons while we played. I just can’t go there. So, I usually make jokes about it to keep those feelings at bay.

Then, last weekend, my kids asked me for an elf, and everything shifted. We had a lovely day—visiting Santa, laughing over lunch, and shopping. While at a toy store, they spotted the elf, and I tried to walk past it. But they were so excited. My son looked at me with hopeful eyes and asked if we could get it. I couldn’t say no to that.

In that moment, memories of Christmases with my brother flooded back, overwhelming me. I held back tears but finally agreed to buy the elf for my kids. As I added it to the cart, I decided we’d start our own tradition. I explained that in our house, the elf would be hidden by the kids, taking turns finding it each day. They loved that idea and spent the whole ride home brainstorming names for our new elf.

Now, listening to them giggle and play with that elf brings back those beautiful memories of my brother and the joy we shared. It’s a reminder that while some traditions can be bittersweet, they can also create new moments of magic and love.

And just like that, a piece of our family history lives on.

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