Elf on the Shelf: Adjusting for Unique Family Needs

Some parenting traditions look simple on the surface.

Fun. Festive. Magical.

But when your child experiences the world differently, even something like Elf on the Shelf needs careful thought, constant adjustments, and a lot more emotional labour than people realise.

This is how Elf on the Shelf looks in our house — and why it’s never really been about the elf at all.

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I did touch on this subject briefly last year in my Christmas and The Many Many Questions of My Child! blog post, but I felt this little Elf on the Shelf deserved a blog post of its own.

I did Elf on the Shelf for my daughter, and she had grown out of it by the time my son was born. I was completely Elf-fatigued, so I decided that if I didn’t introduce it to my son, I would never have to do it again. But then my mum bought him one (thanks, Mum), and so we went from there.

Last year I got it wrong on so many occasions. Not massively wrong, but my son just wasn’t impressed with it at all. So this year I knew I needed to adjust it for him. Like with everything, I needed to get into his mindset and understand what he wanted from the Elf before I could do it properly. Especially because our school mornings are already extremely difficult. They’re slow, emotional, and often heavy before the day has even begun — so the idea of adding a “naughty” elf who might cause trouble or annoy him just didn’t sit right with me.

My son loves a bit of humour, so of course I tried the classic: writing a joke on the toilet roll.

“Why didn’t the toilet paper cross the road?
It got stuck in the crack… your butt crack.“

And he liked it.
But having the Elf in the bathroom stopped him from using that bathroom. He said he couldn’t go to the toilet because the Elf would be looking at him and it would put him off. For a little boy who already hates showering and bathing, putting the Elf in the one room where those things have to happen was a mistake.

That also made me think maybe I shouldn’t put the Elf in his bedroom either. He loves his bedroom and spends a lot of time in there (with me), and I didn’t want the Elf to put him off sleeping — which is a challenge anyway.

So maybe I should stick to communal areas for the Elf… although the bathroom is a communal area. Can you see how much I have thought about this? If you’re parenting a child with additional needs, you’ll recognise this constant adjusting — the quiet calculations happening behind the scenes.

So I did a bit of research and found inspiration for things I knew he would like. One night I set the Elf up playing Uno, holding the 6 and 7 cards. He loved that one. What child doesn’t love 6 7 at the moment.

Another night I set the Elf up at my laptop. When I woke my laptop in the morning, I’d written LOSER!!! in a Word document — and he really liked that one. I realised it was because it was directed at me, not him. So the next night I cut a bit of my hair off and left it on my bedside table. Again, he really liked that one.

There were a few ideas I did that he didn’t really understand.

I set the Elf up with a plate and a washing-up sponge, toothpaste on top with sprinkles, and the message: I have made you a sponge cake. That one took him a while to understand.

I also put a empty crisp packet on the Elf like a jumper with a message saying It’s Crispmas jumper day. That one he did not get at all. In fact, he looked at it, scrunched up his face, and said, He’s spelt Christmas wrong.

So I was trying my best and thought I was coming up with some good ideas, when my daughter said to me:

“You are so lame with the Elf now. You did so much better for me.”

And in her eyes, she was probably right. But my son needs adjustments, adjustments for everything he does. I adjust everything ever so slightly for him all the time. Its exhausting but it works.

Take the last elf idea I had. With my daughter, once she was asleep, I positioned the Elf next to her and took a photo of them together on her iPad. I then made that photo her screensaver. It worked brilliantly — but I knew my son would be scared if he thought the Elf had been next to him while he slept. And I had already made the decision not to have the Elf in his bedroom.

So I adjusted it. I took a photo of the Elf with one of his teddies instead and made that his screensaver. This was my best one yet, and I knew I’d pitched it just right. When he woke up, opened his iPad, and saw the Elf, he gasped. He was so happy.

And that’s when I knew I was right— slight tweaks make all the difference.

You might be reading this and thinking it’s all a bit ridiculous. But this Elf — and all the changes I’ve had to make — is symbolic of our life. Constantly tweaking. Constantly adjusting. Making small and sometimes major changes just to make everyday life feel safe, manageable, and joyful. It might not look magical from the outside, but when you get it right — when you see that gasp, that smile — you realise those adjustments aren’t failures. They’re how we show love.

If you can relate to this, or if you’ve had to adapt traditions in your own family, I’d love to hear about it. Sometimes it helps just knowing you’re not the only one quietly overthinking an elf at midnight.