I’d like to start this post with a disclaimer: I love Christmas. I like the sparkle and the glitter and the festive build-up and the sense of anticipation surrounding the main event itself. But I am not a fan of a certain craze that has swept across my Twitter, Instagram and Facebook timeline this weekend.

Elf on the Shelf is an American idea. It’s a little toy that parents purchase pre-December. Billed as a “special scout sent by Santa from the North Pole”, the elf is meant to keep an eye on kids, updating the naughty and nice list before the big day. 

Often though, the elf doesn’t just stay on the shelf. He ventures out in the middle of the night to cause havoc in a corner of the house, ready to be found with much hilarity by the children the following morning. In short, it’s a way to build the sense of excitement throughout December, giving children something to look forward to each morning when they spring out of bed.

A way to improve behaviour and add a sense of fun at the same time? Surely that’s a win then? Well, no, actually. Not in my book anyway. Because, you see, from where I’m standing the Elf on the Shelf has become just another opportunity for one-up-mumship.

It’s only 2nd December, but I can already foresee Competitive Parent Syndrome rearing its ugly head as mums and dads try to out-do each other on social media to have the best “Elf Experience”. Who can come up with the most creative naughty elf scenario? Who can make the funniest elf scene? It’s a slippery slope, I’m telling you.

Putting one-up-mumship to one side though, this blasted elf is a constant reminder to those of us who don’t take part that we haven’t invested the time and energy on creating yet another Christmas tradition for our children. It’s not enough that my daughter has a homemade advent calendar, lovingly sourced presents and a variety of festive days out. No, I am not winning at motherhood this Christmas unless I get an elf too. And don’t forget – it’s not enough to just sit him on the shelf. I have to actually move him around every night and then take pictures of him too.

I hear stories of Elf Facebook groups and Elf Twitter profiles. In some families, I understand, the elf has his feet well and truly under the table. Apparently that’s just a way to ratchet up the fun too, because it’s not enough to give him a name. And now I’m left wondering where it will end. Will the elf have his own Klout score? Will we get “Elf Social Media Gurus” ready to offer advice to other elves who have fewer Facebook friends and Twitter followers?

I’m genuinely interested to know what you think about this. Am I being a complete Scrooge? Am I missing out on a magical family tradition that my daughter will forever hold against me when she grows up? Will I always be *that* awful mother who didn’t do the Elf on the Shelf thing?

I’d love to know what you think. Because, at the moment, I just want him to elf off.

The post Elf on the Shelf – another win for Mother Guilt? appeared first on Mother's Always Right.

Frog, getting into the festive spirit this time last year

I’ve searched high and low. In cupboards and under sofas, at the end of the garden and inside countless photo albums. But I still can’t find it. Christmas is keeping a very low profile.

It’s not that I haven’t entered into the festive spirit. I’ve been belting out Christmas tunes with the best of them. I’ve hung mistletoe and put up a tree and even spent two hours one evening sticking cloves into oranges.

But still, Christmas is nowhere to be seen.

I’m in search of a particular Christmas, you see. One that hasn’t really lived before. One that is at once both new and old, traditional and unique. I’m in search of our Christmas. Our family Christmas.

Last year was the first year we spent Christmas as a family. With a new addition, not yet six months old, we decided to make it our own and postpone family trips with previous traditions. We had big plans. Turkeys, smoked salmon, stockings in bed, a Christmas film or two and much excitement.

But then our car broke down. And our oven blew up. And the washing machine packed in. And the (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine was struck down with a particularly bad case of Man Flu.

So the Christmas I’d known since birth stepped in to play and we spent the big day with my parents at their home in Bristol. My sister also came along. It was lovely, with food galore and many many presents.

But it wasn’t what we’d had planned.

So this year, we’ve decided to start from scratch and attempt the Christmas that wasn’t to be last year. This year we will make our own Christmas.

We’re at Year Zero in the Christmas stakes, and so far all the NLM has brought to the table is an undying need for a can of Foster’s on Christmas Day, coupled with a packet of salt and vinegar Pringles. It doesn’t really go with the Kirstie Allsopp affair I had in mind.

So I’ve ordered the turkey (from one of those posh butchers, with a pretend vintage bike propped up outside and many signs stating the happiness of their birds before they eventually end up on the chopping board). I’ve bought the presents, wrapped the presents and hidden the presents.

But that’s as far as I’ve got. So it’s here that I need your inspiration.

What are your Christmas Day traditions? How do you make the day as special (and stress free) as possible?

Answers on a postcard. Or, you know, you could always leave a comment….

The post In search of Christmas appeared first on Mother's Always Right.