While my parents had a passing interest in at least commemorating what the rest of the country did, it certainly wasn't important to them. Christmas for our family was more like sightseeing – we looked at it to see what all the fuss was about. Sometimes we felt like tourists in a Christian country.

But I married into a large culturally Catholic family and that made it easy to join in. They all started to talk about it in June: who would do what, who would bring what; and by October, the roles and routines were set for the coming weeks.

There were gifts to buy and food to prepare and, more importantly, hours to spend with each other on Christmas Day, beginning at just before midday and ending when the last overindulging relative thought better of the level of overindulgence and decided to take a taxi home. Not that taxis ever arrive late on Christmas Day and so a third bottle of red is opened and so it becomes hard to identify the toot that signals a taxi.

So I've never had that hatred of Christmas that some of my friends have. I quite enjoy spending time with the vast panoply of in-laws who I barely see during the year. I especially enjoy cooking vast amounts of ooh-aah food.

And I don't feel anxious about the gifts any more.

Why is that?

Well, about 25 years ago, when the children were little and our mortgage was huge, I used to whip myself into a fever of anxiety about how much, how many. My late introduction into what was called a Christmas Club marked a turning point: every fortnight from February, a set amount would be earmarked for a particular bank account. By the time Christmas arrived, we could pay for everything in cash, from the dinner to the last little trinket for the stocking. My anxiety levels dropped dramatically (and even more so because there were no hideous February bills).

Now, the list of people for whom we buy presents has also changed. It's just our own children, their partners, my mother-in-law and a tiny handful of others. My brother and his glorious bride and our family have happily agreed that it's more important to spend time together rather than spend money on each other, so Boxing Day is a festival of overeating, cricket overs and snoozing gently on the couch. There are some people I work with who are just so lovely that I can't resist buying tiny gifts (which are mainly to say how much I enjoy that there are other people along the corridor who also work insanely long hours and who will offer to buy the odd late night latte).

Because I no longer have that neurotic parent thing going where I think the children need a bike or the house needs a computer or some other thing that will cause so much anxiety because we can't really afford it, it makes space for me to think about all the others who genuinely need help.

Which is why I really admire Sarah Hanson-Young's determination to provide Christmas gifts for children locked up in detention.

She wrote to her supporters: "What we need is toys for the children in Australia's detention centres. There are more than 500 kids being held against their will in immigration facilities right now. Despite promises that some children will be released by Christmas, the majority will still be detained on Nauru and centres across Australia.

"If you can pick up an extra toy this Christmas and donate it to a child in need, we will deliver them to detention centres all over Australia.

"You can send toys to my electorate office – 7/147 Pirie Street, Adelaide, SA, 5000. If you're in Melbourne, you can drop off toys to the office of Senator Janet Rice – 240 Sydney Road Coburg, VIC, 3058.

"For gifts to be accepted by the detention centre, they must be new. For gift ideas, please visit the Department of Immigration website (under: Giving gifts to detainees in immigration detention)."

Now the list of gifts on the Department of Immigration website is hardly thrilling – http://www.immi.gov.au/About/Pages/detention/gifts-list.aspx – but at least it gives us all the opportunity to give (people, just for Christmas, maybe ignore the suggestion of English grammar books. I once tried to give maths exercises to my own children as a joke and still hear about it 20 years after the event. People! It was a joke!).

But these youngsters could do with some presents, in just the same way that your own children like unwrapping gifts on Christmas morning. The list of gifts includes balls and food and handheld computer games. Chess sets and board games.

And gifts of items for religious observance. Because not all of these children celebrate Christmas and maybe they never will.

But maybe, like me, they will learn to love it, too. If the government ever gives them half a chance.

Twitter @JennaPrice or email jenna_p@bigpond.net.au