For the past few years, I have managed to avoid the Elf On The Shelf phenomenon. Nothing short of a small miracle, I know. Somehow, don’t ask me how, I have been able to perform Jedi-like mind tricks on my kids and avoid the jolly little bugger. Until now.

We were at the bookstore. We rounded a corner and our eyes were assaulted with an entire wall dedicated to Elf On The Shelf.

“O-M-G, Mom! Mom! The Elf On The Shelf has pets!” my 9-year-old daughter squealed.

O-M-G. Are you kidding me? My mind was reeling. This was it. The day of reckoning.

“Look! There’s a Saint Bernard! I love Saint Bernards!” By this point she was practically vibrating with excitement.

I was vibrating, too. But not with excitement.

“That’s nice, honey. Why don’t we go check out the new books? Maybe there’s a new Diary of a Wimpy Kid out?”

I know, diversionary tactics seldom work now that my kids are older, but it was worth a shot.

“Mommy! There’s a reindeer!”

Well crap. Now my 7-year-old twins are in on it.

“And you can write letters to Santa! That the elf delivers! And there’s elf crafts. Crafts! We could build the North Pole!” She’s waving the boxes in front of my face, her brothers jumping up and down to see.

We all know how the craft thing goes. There is no “we.” It’s me. All me.

For those of you who have been living under the elf radar and don’t know the premise behind the Elf On The Shelf, let me enlighten you. The scout elf is a spy sent from the North Pole to keep a watchful eye over your children. It is his (or her) responsibility to report back to Santa every night on your child’s behavior, providing important intel to determine if your child should be put on the nice or naughty list. Every morning the kids wake up to find the elf in a new location, proving that it has, indeed, made a journey in the night. In essence, it is an excellent bribery tool to keep your child living on the straight and narrow, for a little while, at least.

I knew I was no match for an elf and three kids. I reluctantly checked out the rest of the display to see exactly how this small Elf On The Shelf has spawned and multiplied in its quest for Christmas domination.

The Elf now has pets. And tools. And an entire clothing line, known as “The Claus Couture Collection.” This Elf is better dressed than I am. There are hoodies and skirts, superhero costumes and princess gowns. Next thing you know, there will be an elf accessory and shoe line, elf sleighs and an entire elfin entourage, because we all know, it takes a village, people.

While my kids’ eyes shone with the dream of Christmas magic and fun, mine flashed with the nightmare of one more to-do on my neverending to-do list.

The problem is not the actual Elf On The Shelf. The problem is me.

I have barely recovered from September. Back to school, back to extracurricular activities, the fundraising, the forms. All the forms. September notwithstanding, there are all the other things. There is Hallowe’en, Thanksgiving, Valentine’s Day, 100s Day, Easter, crazy hair day, dress as your favorite book character day. There are birthday parties, school projects, homework, and playdates.

And there is Christmas.

I love Christmas. I do. I love our family traditions of eating pizza under the tree the day we decorate it and cooking a huge turkey feast. I love the lights, the carols, the excitement. I love that all three of my kids believe in Santa Claus. This won’t last much longer. I know this time is fleeting.

I admit. I was tempted to fill my cart with all things Elf. There is a small piece of me that feels guilty about my elfin transgression. Sometimes I worry that I am becoming the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. That perhaps my heart is two sizes too small. When I see these displays in stores, I wonder if I am depriving my kids of a great new Christmas tradition by not embracing this elf. I question if they will look back on their childhoods and wish I had done more. Been more.

But then there is the other side of me. The side that says I am doing enough. The side who knows that while I’m running around, late at night, Pinterest in hand, that I am going to be cursing that jolly little elf.

I want my kids to be happy. I want them to experience magic and wonder. But I also want them to experience a mom who is happy. A mom who is not drowning under the pressure of keeping up with everybody else. A mom who loves them more than anything but also loves herself enough to recognize her limits.

For all of the parents out there who do the Elf On The Shelf, I salute you. I see you on social media with all of your elfin shenanigans. They are amazing. Freezing your elf in a jar, Elsa posed beside it; your elf brushing Barbie’s teeth; your elf pool party and S’mores sweatshop; your elf swinging from a chandelier.

For all of the parents out there who choose not to do the Elf on the Shelf, I salute you, too.

We are all doing what we feel is right for our kids. What is right for ourselves. What is right to maintain sanity amidst the crazy. And that? That is enough.