With three weeks to go, Sophia Everitt is worried that she's not going to be ready with treats and sweets for her sons. But what sort of deviant is ready for Christmas this early?

Sophia Everitt

This Christmas I seem to be surrounded by overly competent women, and it’s very unsettling. So far I’ve done virtually nil shopping, (wicked mother) … and the very thought of department stores in the run up to ‘The Big Day’ has me screaming for the tranquilizers.

I’ve two and a half weeks of hols to be somehow filled with activities for my two lively boys and Christmas somewhere in the middle of it. Am I prepared? As prepared as a gobbling turkey in for 21bs of sage and sausagemeat.

Why can’t I be more organized? Take Val, next door, now she’s just the sort who’ll have bought all her gift paper and cards in the January sales and have the presents wrapped before the end of the summer holidays. Talk about seasonal adjustment disorder - Her two kids have been booked into every Christmas activity going, from Santas grotto, to at least four major panto’s…. "Look behind you … " , tis Val … and her family again …." Judging on what I’ve prepared for my boys - I’m expecting Social Services any day now.

Another Christmas casualty I know is a playground mum called "Soo". - It’s spelt SOO. I know this because she’s on every school committee going and it’s there in black and white. Soo always makes me feel really inadequate, without even trying. Again like Val, she’s that type, minimum effort, maximum effect. Except when it comes to her daughter Ellie, then …. she turns into a showbiz mother in a toggle mac.

Her 7 year old child is a musical and literary genius –the sort who’s always reading out poems in assembly and by home time, is able to negotiate an assortment of oboes, violins and swimming certificates with ease. Come 3.30pm, my son usually falls down the school steps in his vest. Are you getting the picture?

Soo, says she recognised Ellie’s singing potential early, - I quote… "We were driving to mummies and mini-movers, at the Arts Lab, Jessie Norman’s "Aida" was playing on the car CD system, and do you know what? . Ellie hit a top c and shattered the rear heated window. Incredible. By the way, how’s your son getting on with the recorder?"

Soo sends Ellie to singing lessons after school, with a private tutor who also happens to be the wife of the school music teacher. This means Ellie, or rather Soo, knows in advance what the Christmas play is going to be and little Ellie is coached to be note perfect by October. While I fail to make the competitive Yuletide grade, there’s an army of parents like Soo and "Panto Queen Val" who've been pencilling in their own Miracle on 42nd Street, along with extra maths lessons, since March this year.

Competitive Mum

And when does creating a magical Christmas, become "making a rod for your own back? Or merely "keeping up with the Jones’?" Think about all those people who become obsessed with external Christmas decorations for example?

What starts off as a few fairy lights over the garage, mutates into the Floodlights at Villa Park. I can almost hear the astral voice whispering, "Build it and they will come". And come they do, the children, the parents, Japanese newsteams and N.Power in March to cut off the supply.

So, all right, I haven't got anything mega planned for my boys so far, but I'm not in counselling over it yet. I can say with a little bit of pride in my voice that plans are afoot. Letters have been sent to Santa. We’ve queued in a reputable catalogue store only to find out that a certain spinning top collection sold out in September, and I can say with authority that our Advent calendar was stripped of chocolate before Joseph and Mary even knew about the baby.

And three of the festive days are accounted for… err , … there’s Christmas Eve which will no doubt flash by in a whirl of conscience buying.

Hmmm, what next? Well, Christmas day will pass in a blur of Spumante and wrapping paper. Then Boxing Day - when they’ll sleep in and I’ll wedge things into the fridge.

Hmm… that still leaves a week of full-on kids? What to do next? Maybe I’m taking my simple philosophy too far, but hey since I’ve already mentioned it why not make a pilgrimage in true Lourdes style to a twinkling cul-de-sac in the West Midlands. Here we will wonder and ponder on the true meaning of Christmas.