Am I being mean for insisting my kids have one present each this Christmas?

I started measuring up the Barbie Dreamhouse last week. It’s got a three-storey slide, a pool and a pet lift. Soon I realised it would take up half of my personal living space. It’s on my children’s Christmas list, along with about a hundred other things.

Lola, eight, and Liberty, six, want a Furby Interactive with multicoloured synthetic fur, costing an eye-watering £75 – which, according to both Hamleys and John Lewis, is top of the most-wanted list this Christmas. There’s the Harry Potter potions set; the Hello Kitty backpack; the glitter and colour-shifting putty; slimy Make It Mini Foods; a princess travel suitcase, plus stationery sets.

“Mummy, Mummy, can I have it for Christmas?” they both cry. What can I say? But while I’m not mean-spirited in any way, particularly when it comes to my children, this festive season I’m putting on the brakes.

Have you heard of the “no-gift policy” for children’s birthday parties? By which you’re asked not to bring a present? Well, I’m doing a modified version of this rule for Christmas: my kids are getting one present each, and I’ve told everyone else not to buy them anything. It’s not been an easy decision – and it makes me feel anxious thinking about it – but I think I must.

My children get overwhelmed by too much stuff, and it’s a total waste of money – I’m trying to go minimalist this year. As much as I love presents around a Christmas tree, once my children are let loose on them, little else matters. There is nothing beautiful about it. They get that crazed look in their eyes, open all their gifts in quick succession, and then act depleted when there are no more presents to open.

It’s like a sugar hit. Inevitably, a mood slump follows. I’ve tried spacing out the presents and giving them one per hour, or every 30 minutes, but it’s an unbearable wait for them.

For me, the fun is in buying the presents and the kids opening them. But then, after I’ve been around the room with a recycling bag, filling it with used wrapping paper, I look at my children: I don’t recognise them any more. They look terrifying – like the little girls in The Shining; possessed, devoid of emotion, and holding hands as if they are partners in some creepy crime, trying to find more gifts they might have missed in all the rubbish.

How is this conducive to Christmas joy exactly? But will a decision to cut back on presents help children to practise gratitude and kindness – or even allow them to feel emotions other than an adrenaline rush?

“Parents should not feel under pressure to buy lots of presents or keep up with other families,” says Dr Amanda Gummer, a child psychologist specialising in child development. “What’s most important at Christmas is for children to feel safe, loved, and experience a bit of the magic of Christmas. While exchanging gifts and unwrapping presents is fun, it shouldn’t be the sole focus of the day.

“Putting guidelines in place for families and friends can be helpful. Creating family traditions and getting children involved in festive baking and making memories will help make the festive period [more enjoyable] for everyone.”

This Christmas “no-gift policy” might actually go down well with family and friends. For one, it’s known to be a good way to reduce your carbon footprint and tame consumerism. UK shoppers are also set to spend a total of £20.5bn on gifts this festive season, according to research by Vinted, with 43 per cent of the site’s consumers selling their own items to fund their gift-buying. So they might, in fact, appreciate it.

I considered encouraging people to donate money to an animal shelter or a charity if they simply had to do something. But then I decided that, in the event of anybody feeling uncomfortable about turning up empty-handed at Christmas, they can buy my children a book.

I’m not sure, though, how Lola and Liberty will handle the new gift policy. When I mentioned it to her this morning, Liberty screamed in absolute horror. Is it worth the disappointment for my children, who are used to toy overload? Will I end up caving in, and not follow through with it once Christmas Day rolls around?

At least my children experience a moment of happiness when they get what they really want. When I was a child, I was always given things that weren’t quite right. It caused silent rage in me. Every near-miss present made me feel unloved. Often the gifts were quite inappropriate, like a hemp T-shirt made out of cannabis. Or, when I first got sober at the age of 24, chocolate champagne truffles. It felt insensitive, and led to resentment that I never voiced.

Now it’s all changed – children demand what they want, so there are fewer surprises and less upset. It’s not a bad thing, but surely there has to be a middle ground.

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Dr Elena Touroni, from the Chelsea Psychological Clinic, tells me that “overwhelming [children] with too many gifts can create a cycle of anticipation and letdown, similar to a sugar rush, where the joy is fleeting and leaves them wanting more”. But resorting to a “no-gift policy” could be a bit extreme. “Gift-giving can be deeply symbolic for young children, as they often associate presents with love and care,” she says.

While scaling back on presents can be beneficial for “fostering gratitude and empathy”, says Dr Touroni, it’s important to do so gradually and with clear communication. “Suddenly removing or drastically reducing gifts without preparation can feel like a withdrawal of love to a child, especially if they equate the volume of gifts with emotional security.”

I’m hopeful that my decision to upend the cultural tradition around Christmas works out. However, I think I will have an extra present or two hidden away in the cupboard just in case of an emergency. My children aren’t spoilt brats, but not having enough presents could result in epic meltdowns because it’s such unfamiliar territory. And, quite frankly, I just don’t think I can deal with the consequences if it all goes horribly wrong. So wish me luck.