Jayne Dowle: Let’s give gift of freedom from debt and stress

He’s totally right, in more ways than one. Racking up thousands of pounds of debt just “to give the kids a good time” has become the only way to celebrate the festive season for so many people.

My heart goes out to this father-of-six. His words make such total sense, yet he admits that not many of us will listen to a word he says.

I’m listening, though. We’ve still 
got weeks to go, but already I’m sick 
of exhortations to buy stuff coming 
out of every television and in every shop.

I’m also sick of having my ear chewed by other parents going on about what they have bought or are buying. They even do it on Facebook.

In fact they’ve been doing it since shortly after August Bank Holiday. Are people’s lives really so empty and meaningless that a trip to Meadowhall in September (yes, September) to tick off every Christmas gift on their list is worthy of sharing with the world?

And when they brag about it, they don’t hesitate to point out exactly how much everything costs. How materialistic is that? I do a quick calculation in my head. Around £500 per child? This could be just for gifts from parents, not the whole family. Where does that money come from? These are not Lottery winners, by any means.

I can’t conjure up a spare £500 x 2 = £1,000 for my son and daughter. So how can they? There’s only one answer isn’t there? You know it. I know it. And the Archbishop of Canterbury knows it. Debt. Get another credit card and stick the lot on there. Then spend the entire year worrying about how – if ever – you are going to pay it off.

Repeat the cycle until your children grow up, have children of their own and pass on your not-so-frugal habits to the next generation. And then we wonder why the British personal debt crisis is the biggest in the Western world. And then we also wonder why the “meaning of Christmas” is lost more quickly than the remote for the new flat-screen television for the toddler’s bedroom.

Sorry if I sound like Scrooge. I’m actually the very opposite. I’ll shed a little tear at the new John Lewis TV advertisement just like any other mother.

Mostly though, that will be a little tear of sheer exhaustion. I cannot be the only woman who associates an alarm clock with getting up even more ridiculously early than usual in order to complete all expected festive tasks on time. And, although the storyline is touching – a hare gives a bear the timepiece so he can wake himself out of hibernation to celebrate Christmas – we all know that alarm clocks are ridiculously passé.

Your average 11-year-old is more 
likely to want to hit the snooze 
button on the latest iPhone come Boxing Day.

I’ve been tempted to make like that bear and hibernate myself until February. It’s not fair on the children though. I do like church on Christmas Eve. A nice walk on Boxing Day. There’s the Downton Christmas special. And yes, what about reminding ourselves that this is supposed to be a spiritual time in the deepest midst of winter? We should seek peace and harmony, not endure debt and despair over tracking down the last talking Furby Boom in Yorkshire.

So last year, I made a stand. The present bill was running out of control. And for what? There are only so many bath bombs a woman can explode. There are only so many diaries a man can fill. So I suggested that all the adults in the family subscribe to a “secret Santa”. It was a bold move, but everyone agreed without argument, which says a lot I think. We pull a name out of a hat and spend a maximum of £20 on one gift for one person, which is given on behalf of all the family.

I reckon this saves each household around £200. It also saves a lot of time, and a fortune on hair dye to cover the grey hairs accrued by worrying over what to get for people who have already got enough bath bombs and diaries to plot the invasion of a small country.

And the children? One big present which everyone contributes cash towards, and just a few little gifts to open on Christmas morning. Emphasis on the “few” and the “little”. Last year, both mine received iPads. This might sound like an extravagance in itself, but I calculated it on the same “cost-per-wear” formula I do to justify an expensive pair of boots or winter coat.

They use them every day. In fact they would use them all day, and all night, if I let them. To be honest, they love them so much, they can’t think of anything else they actually want this Christmas. I call that a result, Archbishop.