My week: Jo Whiley

The Radio 1 DJ has a hectic working week in which she also bungles her son's birthday gift, does a charity gig with her sister, strips off in a cab and nearly gets round to Christmas shopping

I wake up on Monday and the house feels different. Our family dog, Jade, died at the weekend - he was old and arthritic - and all of a sudden, there's no snuffling around, no creaking floorboards and horrible smells. He was a beautiful, brilliant, friendly dog and I'm surprised how upset I am.

I'm also feeling a tidal wave of panic about how hectic my life is about to become. This week I've got my Radio 1 show in the mornings as well as a week of gigs for Mencap - the learning disability charity - in the evenings. My afternoons will be spent in meetings to discuss taking the radio show on tour, broadcasting from people's living rooms next week. I'm going to have to rely on everyone else for everything, and will inevitably feel like the world's worst mother, daughter and wife.

I get up and try to get organised, pack bags and I'm already freaking out about Christmas shopping - I won't be able to see a shop for at least two weeks and my seven-year-old son, Jude, also has his birthday the week before Christmas which adds to the fun. I spent Sunday evening running round Toys'R'Us buying his presents, but left them in the car overnight and left the doors open. So this morning, my other half hears our five-year-old shouting: 'Jude! Jude! Come here! There's a remote control K-9 in the car!'

I'm staying in a hotel in London for the week - I live in Northamptonshire - so I catch the train to Euston with my Orla Kiely bag on wheels loaded with my life, which includes a mass of catalogues and all the Sunday supplement gift guides. My plan is to sit backstage and do all my Christmas shopping with my credit card.

When Mencap first came to me about curating these acoustic gigs, I said no - it was too much of an undertaking. Then they told me the venue - the Union Chapel in Islington - and I was irresistibly drawn in. The chapel is a fantastic working church as well as an award-winning venue. When I arrive on Monday evening the atmosphere is like a Christmas Eve service - it gives you that magical, tingly feeling.

I'm a patron of Mencap partly because my sister, Frances, who's three years younger than me, has learning difficulties. She has a congenital syndrome called Cri Du Chat with lots of complicated symptoms. She couldn't speak until she was 10. We're very close - Frances was the bridesmaid at my wedding and stood up there with the vicar for the whole ceremony. She lives with my parents, close by, and we all see each other a lot. My dad is actually my nanny and looks after the children when we're working.

The bands are practising in one room and in another, a theatre company are rehearsing their Christmas panto. It's surreal listening to Dick Whittington and the Kooks at the same time. In another room, there's a girl guide meeting - all beside themselves, peeping in at Luke from the Kooks - and in another, there are boy scouts.

I find Plan B - who's well known for swearing - in his dressing room trying out alternative words. 'We're in a church,' he explains. 'You gotta be respectful.'

Everyone's very nervous because they're much more used to stadiums and clubs. When they go out to go on, they look like they're off to face a firing squad. They're so much less rowdy than they'd usually be, talking in whispers because the acoustics here are incredible and pick up everything. By the end, though, the audience is jumping around, hands in the air - it's like an evangelical meeting.

I stay behind drinking and get back to my hotel at 2am - which sets the pattern for the week. It's a posh hotel near Radio 1 and I love it. For one thing, being away from home means I can sleep for five hours without being woken up. I can move around the bed and make all sorts of shapes, safe in the knowledge that there's no child under the covers likely to butt me. I even manage to have a bath and shave my legs in the morning, which never happens at home.

On Wednesday afternoon I go to the Business Design Centre to DJ with Frances at a special needs conference. Frances absolutely loves music. She has the biggest record collection of anyone I know and she can spot a hit a mile off. This is the third year we've done this gig. I spend the whole time signing autographs while Frances chooses the records. She knows exactly the right ones and when she plays the Scissor Sisters everyone starts throwing the most amazing shapes.

There's one guy with Down's - he's about 40 and dressed really smartly in a white shirt and tie - who's doing these forward rolls, then coming up for a bit of air guitar, then more forward rolls. It makes your heart melt.

Afterwards, I take my sister to the chapel gig - though I'm slightly worried because you can hear a pin drop in the place and she has a really loud voice and short attention span. Sure enough, half way through the set, everyone hears her asking: 'Finished yet?'

I manage to rush home twice during the week for a couple of hours (Tuesday and Thursday), straight to the school gates to pick the children up. It's very stressful, it's all such a rush, but I have to act calm. The boys ask: 'Mum, when are you going to be here more often?' 'In two weeks,' I say. 'You said that three weeks ago,' they point out.

On Thursday I do a bit of reading with them and then realise they haven't done their homework, but I keep calm, calm, calm - then I'm off again. As I'm rushing out the door, a neighbour appears with a pot that was delivered to her house while we were out. It turns out to be Jade's ashes but all I can do is leave it on the side in our kitchen and hope that no one will chuck it away.

I apply my make-up on the train and take a cab from Euston to the Union Chapel, desperately trying to change into different clothes because I'll be on stage in 10 minutes. At one point I'm down to my bra, just hoping the driver is concentrating on the road.

I have Saturday off and then we're rounding the Mencap gigs off with Noel Gallagher. I'm getting lots of emails and texts from everyone I know asking if I can put them on the guest list. Hopefully, it'll be a brilliant end to the week.

Oh, and have I bought even one Christmas gift yet? I haven't even opened a catalogue.

The Whiley CV

The life
Born June 1965 in Northampton. Educated at Campion School and then university in Brighton. Married to Steve Morton, a music business executive. They have three children (India, 14, Jude, seven, and Cass, five). Plans are afoot to name a departure lounge after her at Newquay airport.

The work
Host of The Evening Session on Radio 1 between 1993-7, before moving to the lunchtime Jo Whiley Show. In 2001 moved to the morning slot. Always a fan of new musicians, she was among the first to champion James Blunt. She also presents music festival TV coverage.