Be Good for Goodness' Sake

Growing up I had no knowledge of St. Nick's Day. There were no stockings before Christmas - my mom wouldn't even let us open a gift on Christmas Eve. Yep, she was hard core. For the record, she also wouldn't let us downstairs Christmas morning until she checked to "make sure" that Santa had been to our house. I can remember at least two occasions where she got my brother and I to go back to bed because Santa was "running behind schedule".

And yes, we went back to bed.

Yes, we were gullible kids.

Anyway, I digress. The point is that I never even knew there was a St. Nick day, replete with gift-filled stockings, until I went to college. I learned about it when my friend Kate's mother sent all of us St. Nick goody bags stuffed with chocolate and sugary wonderfulness - all things that were necessary heading into finals.

Last year my mother-in-law took care of St. Nick's day. She spoiled the grandkids with pajamas, toys and a movie. It hadn't even crossed my mind to make sure St. Nick knew about Addison's stocking. This year was a little different - I made sure St. Nick brought her goodies. She got socks, hat and mittens, a book and an apple. Her favorite goody?

The apple of course.

In addition to stopping by my house, St. Nick also stopped by Grandma Patty's house and made sure Addie got more goodies. Apparently, however, he was feeling a little more extravagant at Grandma's house.

St. Nick's treats from Grandma's stocking included pajamas, socks, stickers, a two foot tall hot pink tree and the book The Elf on the Shelf . Addie loved everything she got from her second St. Nick stash, but her favorite, of course, was the $1 sheet of stickers. Followed close behind by her pink tree. She showed minimal interest in the new book.

Within a day or two, however, the book became a favorite - 0f hers and of mine. The Elf on the Shelf is a story about a "scout elf" that lives in your house and reports to Santa each night about how you have been behaving.

I can imagine the conversation now: Santa, the little girl is behaving pretty well. But mother seems to just be drinking wine and surfing the Internet. The house is a wholly wreck.

Anyway, Addie has bought into this little gimmick hook, line and sinker. She named her elf Maggie and on her way to bed each night she says goodnight to Maggie. She also tells Maggie whether she's been naughty or nice - and is shockingly honest. She'll says things like "Maggie, I nice. I nap and listen" or "Maggie, I nice. I share and go pee pee on the pot". Some days she has to say "Maggie, I naughty. I spit and yelled and no listen" or "Maggie, tell Santa I want Jungle Book. I be nice, Maggie".

Each morning when Maggie gets back from the North Pole, she finds a new place to hang out for the day. Right now she is staring me down from the cabinet above my microwave. She has perched herself on the top of the tree, on the mantle, hanging from the dining room light, behind our map of Chicago and on the shower rod. Maggie watches and listens and reports. She can see Addie at school, at exercise, in the car, playing with her friends.

Addie isn't allowed to touch Maggie or Maggie'll lose her elf magic. But they do chat some days, even though Maggie really never has anything to say, Addie goes on and on.

Maggie is only with us for another week. On Christmas Eve she returns to the North Pole to chill with Santa until next winter.

I'll miss Maggie.

Who else is going to keep this two year old on the straight and narrow?