Having kids has ruined my Christmas – it’s no longer chilled or magical but exhausting & like being in a pressure cooker

As the big day looms, writer and mum-of-four Julia Etherington, 45, admits that the mental load of being a mum during the festive season brings out her inner grinch...

IT’S the most wonderful time of the year, according to the famous song. And until I became a mum, I’d probably have agreed.

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I used to love Christmas and all the festive build up – decking the halls, choosing the gifts and lazy afternoons supping mulled wine under a blanket.

But nowadays, I watch baffled as the excitement and good cheer others exude as the advent calendar counts down doesn’t rub off on me.

I’d even go as far as saying Christmas is a bit ruined since we became a family of six, as blessed as I am with four lovely sons - Will, 20, Ally, 16, Eric, 13, and ten-year-old Bear.

Of course, I love to watch the anticipation grow in them as the day draws nearer and it makes me smile to witness them absorbing every second of the magic. 

The trouble is, as a mum, it’s down to me to make the magic happen – and there’s no pressure like it.

We mums are in fact elves in disguise - Santa’s real ‘little helpers’.

And it brings an anxiety for some of us which can’t be eased until the celebrations are over.

Model and fellow mum-of-four Abbey Clancy summed it up on her podcast The Therapy Crouch this week, when she said: "It’s six days to Christmas and it’s all me. Christmas is exhausting for me."

She told her retired footballer husband Peter Crouch: "You haven’t given one thought to the meat, the pigs in blankets, the Christmas breakfast, who’s ordered the food, who’s ordered the drink, who’s ordered the presents, who’s wrapped the presents.

"You haven’t done anything for that.... What have you done to contribute?"

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As soon as I see the Christmas decorations in the shops, a huge knot begins to build in my stomach, which doesn’t unravel until it’s over.

Before parenthood, Christmas was the most chilled time of the year

Julia

People who tell me they’ve started or, more annoyingly, finished their Christmas shopping and wrapped everything by November, only increase my stress levels.

Sure, there are a few dads out there who feel the same, but it’s mainly the mums who head up the whole operation, making endless lists of what must be achieved so everything is perfect and everyone else is happy. 

Before parenthood, Christmas was the most chilled time of the year.

There was only each other to worry about and me and my husband Doug, 55, a PR consultant, were so relaxed.

The Christmas roast was a romantic dinner for two with a few glasses of wine, followed by a movie, maybe a board game.

Occasionally we’d go to the pub and do some karaoke before heading home for a relaxing night in, without a care in the world.

It was a day you could devote to yourself or each other, and some down time after a socially hectic build up.

It was a much simpler time.

Christmas shopping back then was a leisurely stroll around the shops, picking a few small gifts and admiring the decorations before stopping for a coffee.

I used to look at the crowds and wonder why their faces looked so strained.

Now I realise they were almost definitely parents.

As a mum it’s like an endurance race to the big day. There’s a huge list of tasks to complete by the December 25th deadline and a jam-packed diary of school plays and parties, Christmas fairs, collections for teachers, days to wear Christmas jumpers, endless outings to see Santa.

December is the only month where Brits ditch the conversations about the weather for the big question: ‘All ready for Christmas?’. Please don’t remind me.

First there are the decorations. There’s a new pressure of having the impressive colour coordinated tree, thanks to the Instagram generation.

It's hard not to feel inadequate when you see influencer mums and celebs posting idyllic images of their carefully curated baubles and lavish front door decs - probably done by hired professionals.

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But I’ve managed to avoid that one thanks to my old-fashioned view that the children should enjoy decorating it themselves.

It might look like a hot mess, but it’s their hot mess to be proud of. 

But outside decorations are another matter because the kids demand we try and keep up with the neighbours who’ve subscribed to the Blackpool Illuminations club.

My husband is the festive chef at our home...but many mums aren’t so lucky

Julia

Mums are usually behind shopping for the food, inviting others for dinner and making sure the house is clean (ish).

The only thing I’ve ceded control of is the actual cooking of the food.

My husband is the festive chef at our home, near Bristol, but many mums aren’t so lucky.

But the other big part of the festive jigsaw – the presents – weigh more heavily on me than if I had Santa and his sack sat on my head. 

This is a biggie, not to be messed up, and definitely the single most stressful item on the long list.

What should we get? Will it arrive in time? Will the kids change their minds two days before? And how the bloody hell will we afford it?

We have a budget for each child, but with inflation you don’t get as much bang for your buck as you used to. 

My husband will inevitably make a suggestion or two but it’s ultimately up to me to make the decisions, research the options, buy them, wrap them and hide them – for all four boys.

All of this is a pressure cooker of responsibilities only Santa himself could ever possibly understand

Julia

Not to mention that everyone else wants me to suggest perfect gifts for the kids, Doug and even myself – and they need ideas right now, to give them time to purchase and post.

I might even find myself wrapping them too, because they’ve ordered it via Amazon to come directly to our house, while I’m also busy building Lego forts until 1am.

All of this is a pressure cooker of responsibilities only Santa himself could ever possibly understand.

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I talk to other mums and so many of them feel it too. They are burning out as the end of the year approaches, but feel unable to complain for fear of being branded selfish.

Roll on Boxing Day, I say – when we can stop acting like Duracell bunnies and let the batteries recharge.

Sometimes I secretly wonder if the stress and the strain of making everything perfect for my family is really worth it.

Shouldn’t Christmas be a time of peace and goodwill, not tears and overwhelm?

But then I decide – of course it is.

Because I’ll do the same again next year, just so I can enjoy the joy my children ooze when I make the most special day of the year truly magical for them once more.

*additional reporting Alex Lloyd