Since November, there has been a noticeable thud of post landing on the doormat. The Toddler makes a mad dash to collect it and struggles to carry it to me. Unfortunately this is not because we have been inundated with lovely brown parcels tied in string, or the rare site of a hand written envelope. Instead we have received piles of catalogues. No doubt we have the Internet to blame and the small print at the bottom of web pages requiring us to tick an invisible box if we do not want to receive further information.
Needless to say, the children love them. They busily sift through pages of toys and mark their names beside the most inappropriate items, usually the biggest, loudest or something they already have which looks a bit more presentable in the catalogue. I have tried hard to manage expectations and explain why it is highly unlikely that Father Christmas will drag a motorbike down the chimney. It also means that as far as the children are concerned the Halloween pumpkin will soon be replaced with the Christmas tree.
Meanwhile the catalogues begin piling up in the corner of the kitchen. I happen to overhear a mother in the playground say, “I’ve just finished wrapping all my Christmas presents.” Despite trying hard not to be influenced by other playground chat this threw me into the most almighty panic. I dash home, reach for the catalogues and flip open the laptop. Finally, after an hour or two I proceed to the virtual Check Out. The site promptly freezes. I call customer services and speak to Sanjay who speaks English but with a heavy Indian accent. I finally establish the site is temporarily out of action. I begin the lengthy task of giving him my order by phone which is a struggle given our language barrier. To my amazement, most of my items are already out of stock – even before the festive period has begun. Afterwards, I feel disappointed, exhausted and distinctly un-festive. I long for the day I can stroll down the high street on a cold crisp December morning, enjoy the wonderful shop window displays and all to the tune of the Salvation Army. It seems the catalogue companies and their websites have collared many mothers like myself who battle with pushchairs, numerous school runs and huge Christmas shopping lists.
Now it is December, the doors of the Advent calendar are swinging open and we can mention the word ‘Christmas’ without a trace of guilt. And finally there is no thud on the doormat. It seems for the catalogue companies, Christmas is long gone.
