Kayt Turner: 'I've had three months to get ready. So why am I clutching last-minute lists?

WE SPENT ages poring over websites to pick the perfect place to go on holiday. There were hours on the phone making arrangements for time off and coordinating diaries. We did all of this nearly three months ago, so it shouldn't exactly come as a surprise to me that we're going on holiday next week. However, if you could have seen me in the last couple of days you would assume that I had only been informed of this great event on Monday.

Now Mr Turner has sprung things like this on me in the past – I once had an hour and a half to leave work and get myself to Glasgow airport for a holiday. Strangely enough, that was easier.

I've had three months to get everything together. So why am I clutching last-minute lists and dashing in and out of Boots? I've been shouting out random things in the office ("Factor 50 sunscreen!") as something else occurs to me. All of which could have been purchased months ago. When did it become such hard work to go on holiday? I'll tell you when – the second that kids became involved.

The notion of just grabbing a few things and zipping off to foreign climes flies right out of the window. We used to fly off unconcerned as to what we did, or didn't, have. If we had forgotten anything really important, well, we had credit cards. We'd just pick it up when we got to wherever we were going.

Preparation, such as it is, for child-free holidays should involve nothing more than a couple of leisurely hours in Waterstone's or Borders, poring over the latest must-reads. Maybe even an afternoon spent trying on swimsuits ("Book bikini wax!"). It's true what they say: only love can break a heart, but trying on swimwear comes close.

Children make things much more complicated. A colleague tells me that the space in her suitcase diminished as each child came along until she reached the point where she really does only have the clothes she stands up in. ("Insect repellent!")

Clothes were easier when you were able to tell the kids what they were wearing. But now that we have a near-teen and it seems as if her entire wardrobe has to come with us. No matter that there really won't be any call for a sequined prom skirt in the middle of a farm. ("Hay fever tablets!") I think she has the vision of a trail of porters, three paces behind her toting her steamer trunks. When the reality is much more likely to be Mr Turner sweating under the weight of those prom skirts, little cardigans and swimsuits.

And after the clothes issue has been settled, there's the question of things to entertain the kids. I have always maintained that the man who invented the in-car DVD player is a genius and cannot be praised highly enough. An hour of 'I spy...' on the way to Prestatyn a few years ago convinced me of that. I say an hour, it was actually 10 minutes of I-spying and then 50 of fighting over who had won. It's amazing the silence that a bit of Disney can bring. ("Wet wipes!") Aside from the DVD collection, there are bats, balls, nets, fishing rods, swimming floats, buckets and spades. In case it rains, there are board games, cards and even bingo.

Forget about having room in the suitcase – there's hardly going to be enough room in the car for me.