I feel old.

Old and jaded and tired, like I never have before.

Right now as I sit here, the Christmas tree is blazing with multicolour bulbs, the lights in the window chase each other permanently, garlands hang from the ceiling and our bedroom is filled with presents, wrapped and not-yet-wrapped. And how do I feel? Numb.

Christmas for me isn't the joyous time it should be any more. It's a time of frantic shopping trips, barely sane present-buying excursions which, despite ten months of planning never seem to go right. Sleepless nights poring over spreadsheets, working out our budget for the next four weeks to be sure we can survive, buy the turkey, get all the presents and still have enough to go out for a meal on Boxing Day. Days full of persuading C that you can't plan a christmas around the Argos website, or that three weeks is really quite a long time and yes, the money will be there when we need it and we don't need to do two week's shopping on the 24th because actually all the shops are open again on Boxing day.

Christmas has been going on since September here. She'd come home with reports on how many shops had got their christmas stock on the shelves on a daily basis. I went through days of evil glares, arguments and frantic reminders to pick up the Boots christmas catalogue just three weeks ago. When I actually went in, I looked around, found nothing and asked an assistant. They weren't even out for another week!

See, Christmas isn't all fun and sweetness for me. Christmas for me is whirling like a dervish trying to keep three kids (one of which is in her 20's and really knows better) happy. Christmas for me is torturous, endless phone calls from grandparents, clueless about what to buy for the kids, despite spending plenty of time with them. Christmas for me is negotiating work hours and suffering the recriminations if I get lumbered with working over New Year. Christmas for me is getting blamed for everything because C is so deeply panicked by mid-November that nothing she does or says makes sense anymore.

I want to enjoy the festive season. I want to look forward to the days gradually getting longer and the rebirth of the year. I want to sit back, relax and enjoy the celebrations with my family around me. I don't want my Christmas to be defined, as it so definitely is, by the words PANIC and DESPERATION.

I want my Christmas to be a Johnny Mathis song.