EVERY year Christmas seems to present more problems - and every year, too, comes a host of potential new solutions. In Britain the latest trend seems to be to escape your own dilemmas by trying to solve those of others, with volunteers sought over the holiday season for a range of altruistic projects. The most spectacular plea comes from Earthwatch which, from December 13th to 29th (neatly removing you from the Christmas minefield), could use you to help excavate a Copper Age religious sanctuary in Mallorca. You live with the project scientist and his family and could have the joy of discovering a Roman coin - the only drawback, altruism notwithstanding, being that it costs £990 to be involved and that's not including flights.

As an exotic Christmas escape excuse it would be hard to beat. But most people have to - maybe secretly want to stick around and try to press the rewind button on what may have happened last year. That's the idea behind Women's Christmas, a day long workshop on December 1st, organised by assertiveness trainers Liz, Sherry and Trish Cameron.

"We got the idea because we've been hearing from so many people who dread Christmas or are locked into various scenarios," says Liz Sherry. "The fact is that in spite of liberation, feminism and dual career families, women still feel that they have to carry Christmas for everyone.

"Women are still conditioned to look after others. We're saying, before putting this pressure on yourself, is this what you want? Is there another way?" says Trish Cameron. "That's the nub of the day."

In the morning they will look at problem issues and suggest coping strategies. In the afternoon there are ideas about managing Christmas on a shoestring, covering money saving and DIY gifts, avoiding expensive packaging and not being pressured into spending money you don't have. There are also sessions on clothes buying grooming, hair and skin care, and a workshop on how to relax when the going gets rough. The day will end with mulled wine and mince pies - it is Christmas, after all.

It begins with a drama performed by actors. This will be used as a trigger as women break into workshops to discuss the factors that drive them over the edge at Christmas. These, say the two women, are manifold.

Typical situation, says Liz, is the opening gambit: "We've decided to come to you this year", or "We're going away, will you look after John?" You say yes, but you're feeling sick already. You tell your husband and he goes through the roof. Now the couple aren't talking to each other. Then the children weigh in with "ah no, we don't want him". The whole family is upset.

There are many situations, they say, which Christmas exacerbates. "Gay women tell us of the perennial `any sign of a boyfriend?' each year they go home," says Liz. "There'll never be any sign of a boyfriend. Other women talk of going to bed knackered at nine o'clock on Christmas night with little personal enjoyment from the day of escaping to an hotel even though they don't necessarily want to."

Then there are the women who have 40 guests around the table each year and love it - but some of those guests may feel corralled and trapped, yet unable to say "No, not me, not this year".

"We want to offer guidelines on having the Christmas you want. If a woman says, for instance, she'd really like to stay at home rather than going to her mother's, we'll role play it and see what happens. Women can do this; they know the script backwards. We believe there will be a cross fertilisation of ideas, and we're having the day early enough so that people can make changes if that's what they decide."

What will participants learn? "They will learn to say `no'," says Liz. "If you say no you're considered selfish, but is it selfish to put yourself, your husband and your children before someone else just because you can't face up to something?"

No, it does without saying, isn't necessarily a bad word. If said in a positive spirit and put tactfully, it can be the best option.

The organisers know alcohol will be a big issue. Many parents today are themselves adult children of alcoholics for whom the season of Christmas still casts a long shadow.

Another late 20th century impasse which Trish Cameron sees regularly is the one where the grown up son or daughter would like to spend Christmas with friends rather than family: "But you're supposed to be at home for Christmas. So you go back. You're resentful, you're snarling and sniping, throwing yourself on the sofa. `I hate sprouts', that kind of thing.

"Mothers can put pressure on daughters, particularly, to come home - especially if there's an alcohol problem," says Liz. "They come on the phone to her saying `you know what he's like, I need you', that kind of blackmail.

"And if they do come home and want to sleep with their partner, the parents freak. I would say to parents that you have to accept that your child is grown up, an adult with rights and needs. Mothers often say it's Dad that has the problem, not them. So let father and daughter sort it out between them. Don't get involved. Don't be the emotional broker. It's an ego boost; you're taking inappropriate power.

Separations pose their own dilemmas but increasingly, as people get over the initial traumas of marriage breakdown, some families are finding that it is possible to get together for Christmas Day ex partners, stepchildren, half sisters and all. "Joining up happened organically. The relationship got to such a point that we felt it was worth the risk. The children get on really well. The adults are aware. There is no cosy reminiscence, no `do you remember' from one partner to another. We do drink, but we've dealt with the issues - so no one is likely to come out with something wounding after a few too many. Over the years it's all been said," says one woman, whose current partner's ex wife and two children now come to visit for Christmas Day.

An ex wife whose marriage ended over an other woman tells of how she coped with having her husband for the day by letting him play with the children while she did the dinner. The strain was overshadowed by the children's obvious delight at both parents being with them as they opened presents and played with their games. "Later we put the children to bed together, and afterwards I wanted him to stay and I wanted him to go. This was the man I had three children with, and I was awkward and confused. As he was leaving we looked at each other - and, without a word, we bugged. Things got a bit - better after that. I felt some of the bitterness leave me over the next few months."

"We would say it is a really good time to face up to this as a family, and to talk. Children, even four to five year olds, can contribute a lot," says Liz. "I suggest parents ask the children what they would want to happen on Christmas Day. Not to dump on them, not to make them the go between, but to give them a voice and to self- disclose as well: `Daddy and I aren't sure what to do about Christmas, what would you both like to happen?' It's a big mistake not to involve the children in such decisions."

INCREASINGLY, divorce and separation have implications for the extended family at Christmas. "In laws, new partners, kids, stepkids," says Liz. "Sometimes that kind of huge get together is not going to work out. But there is always a choice.

Such choices include having a smaller group, seeing people before or after Christmas but not on the day or inviting some for dinner only. "You can put boundaries on it," says Liz, "like `will you come for dinner, and Mike will run you home after it'. It needn't be all those people. It needn't be all day. It needn't be that day."

"Sometimes we've been doing the same thing for so long, it doesn't occur to us that there is another way, even though it could be staring us in the face. It takes one person to say, this year we're going to a hotel, or staying at home, or just, dropping in - to change things. And suddenly there is a new norm.