“It’s so easy to moan about the holidays, and believe me, I will happily do so given half a chance (I’m hosting this year, and I’m already several shades of unhinged), but here’s the truth of it: I love Christmas with my tornado daughters,” says Kayleigh Dray, Stylist contributor and mother to a four-year-old and a one-year-old.

“Call it luck or a deeply unfortunate childcare situation, but I’m about to be with them 24/7 until 5 January. And now that I’ve juggled all my deadlines accordingly, I’m really looking forward to switching off from the grind and just pottering about, doing whatever mad things they feel like doing. Based on their current mood, that’s pretending to be the running lizards from Planet Earth II while I’m the racer snake chasing them. The heart wants what the heart wants.

“It’s exhausting, both physically and emotionally (nobody cuts me to the quick like the four-year-old when she’s asking me if I went to school with Santa), but it’s also the ultimate brain break. So much roleplay, so much thinking on my feet, so much ‘Yes, but…’ It reignites my creative spark. It’s convinced me I could give up my day job, become an improv comedian and fulfil my life goal of appearing on Taskmaster. At the very least, it gives me a reason to drink a daily hot chocolate.

“Christmas can be tricky at the best of times: we all have papercuts from wrapping mishaps, emotional baggage, people we’re missing terribly and that one person we’d rather avoid but know we’ll end up chit-chatting politely with over gravy-soaked potatoes. Still, it’s the most wonderful time of the year for a reason, and it’s especially magical if we let go of perfection and allow ourselves the chance to feel the small, quiet joys: the laughter, the wonder and the occasional pang of nostalgia.

“I’ve let them decorate the tree themselves, for better or worse (it’s the latter; it looks like Tim Burton popped round to do it). We’ve stopped to admire every Christmas light display, however small and seemingly insignificant. I can’t wait to stand in the cold with them both and watch Santa drive down our road or introduce them to the local outdoor carol concert. And I’m genuinely hyped for Maddie Moate’s Very Curious Christmas, after patiently queueing for tickets online like it was Glastonbury itself.

“Best of all, I get to relive my favourite childhood traditions: writing the letter to Santa, snuggling down to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, the whipped cream Santa beard competition (don’t ask) and the family walk after Christmas dinner. Exhausting? Yes. But completely, joyfully worth it – even if I have to watch Stranger Things under the cover of darkness and am inevitably felled by at least three viruses before the new year. Wish me luck.”

“I’ve already got Sentimental Value on my watchlist for the holidays. As a mum, I don’t need another kids’ movie on my roster; I know I’ll be watching Netflix’s That Christmas about, ooh, shall we say 55 times? At least. Instead, this is exactly the kind of story I crave for myself,” says Kayleigh.

“It follows sisters Nora and Agnes as they reconnect with their estranged father, Gustav, a once-renowned director hoping for a comeback – one he hopes Nora might star in, until she vehemently turns down the role. When he charges forward with his autobiographical project and offers the part to a young Hollywood star, you get an emotional wrecking ball of a story, one that expertly holds a magnifying glass up to familial love in all its messy, complicated and utterly painful glory.

“I have my own reasons for wanting to watch this one, all of which feel a bit too raw to share here. What I will say, though, is this: the holidays pile pressure on us to smile through the chaos, put on happy faces and keep going despite past hurts. Not to get too bogged down in the aforementioned animated festive film that currently rules my home, but ‘Christmas is a bit like an emotional magnifying glass. If you feel loved and happy, Christmas will make you feel even happier and more loved. But if you feel lonely or unloved, the magnifier gets to work and makes all those bad things feel bigger and worse.’

“Watching something poignant like this? It lets me cry when I need to, reflect and feel the emotions I don’t always get space for. And even though it’s not for my kids, the themes of connection, forgiveness and second chances make it a wholly restorative watch. Consider this, then, a little cinematic reset before the new year begins.” Friday 26 December; UK cinemas