But the reason we love Christmas trees so much is because they embody the spirit of the season. It's where we stow the gifts we've carefully purchased and wrapped for those we love most. And since gifts are tokens of our love, the tree effectively becomes a symbol for two biggest catchwords of the season: love and giving. And it's important to think about how those concepts apply to everyone, not just the familyseated around the table on Christmas or Hanukkah.

With that in mind, I thought I'd list a few ways to give back to those in need this season. It starts, of course, with getting familiar with nonprofits you like. I've covered a number of them on my website , but if you're starting from scratch, think about your interests. If you like art, see if your local museum needs volunteers. Are you an animal person? There are dozens of animal-based charities in most major cities. Do you prefer cleaning up parks or streets? Helping kids? Aiding the homeless? Chances are good there's already a group hard at work in your area of interest, and they almost always need an extra set of hands. Do it for others or for yourself (there's no better way to get in the Christmas spirit!), just do something positive!

1. Hurricane Sandy is gone, but the damage definitely isn't. (Just turn on the news to see for yourself.) Whether you live in the area or across the country, you can do something. (Give blood! Help a business get its website back up! The options are diverse.) Check out this website Click here for ways to help.

2. Host a party and demand as an entrance fee a donation for your charity of choice. This is a great way to have fun and help out at the same time!

3. Start a donation drive at your office. There's no better way to get people involved than via peer pressure, especially if you're the boss!

4. Volunteer. Pick one Saturday this month and one worthy charity…and mark your calendar! It's as simple as that. You don't have to form an ongoing relationship (but if you do, that's great.) You just have to spend an afternoon focusing on someone else who needs your help.

5. Charity starts at home. Is a friend struggling to make ends meet? Play Secret Santa, and help her out with her Christmas shopping. Did your brother-in-law get laid off this year? Pay his car payment this month or offer to spruce up his resume. Wherever your skills or resources allow, utilize them for someone you love who needs your help.

Of course there are hundreds of other ways to get involved this season. My point is simply to remind you they exist and that it's on all of us to seek them out.

Happy Holidays!

Today I am no longer a practicing Catholic, despite having been rigorously raised as such, and my wife is about as tied to her religion (Judaism) as I am to mine. Like many of our generation, we identify culturally with our religions more than we do, well, religiously. Yet December is when we most feel the pull back to our religious roots, when we must pick and choose what customs to carry on with our own kids and which ones to leave behind. Do we celebrate Christmas? Hanukkah? Both? Neither?

Speaking broadly, my wife and I are somewhat rebellious when it comes to organized religion. We both have issues abouthow we were judged by family when we were growing up, and neither of us can easily abide by outdated restrictions that create inner conflict over labels like good and bad. I guess you can say we are hippies at heart! We love everyone! But I do feel that sharing my heritage is important. And as a parent, I make a point of observing with my children certain holidays like St. Nicholas Day, Easter andChristmas. I also love sharing the food I grew up with and even singing some of the old Slavonic songs of my youth—despite the fact that my kids think I'm just plain weird whenever I belt one out. These pieces of my background are what I want to pass on. But do they mean less without the religious context? Are they just as powerful and grounding on their own?

Christmas is a religious holiday. After Easter, it's the most important one on the Christian calendar. And yet it is also a timewhentradition for tradition's sake becomes extra important, too. These two elements of the season—religion and tradition—are as inextricably entwined as trees and ornaments or menorahs and candles. You can try to parse them out, but there's always some vestige of the other. And so when you choose what to observe, practice or discard, you have to do so carefully.

Each year, my family celebrates Christmas Eve at our home with my wife's family and with our friends. The majority of our guests are Jewish – even my Golden wears a yarmulke – but everyone loves sharing Christmas at our home. Not to mention the fact that I can cook a badass batch of pierogies!

But that's me and my family. What about you? What traditions are special to you this time of year? Leave a comment below!

But lest this annual holiday receive short shrift as merely the precursor to a month of revelry, I thought I’d take a moment to be thankful for…Thanksgiving. Not only is it a golden opportunity for doing very little besides cooking, eating and kicking back with a beer or two. It’s also a time to reconnect with extended family and live the concept of tradition.

What does that mean exactly? Well, as a relatively new country, we’re often big on ideas for the future and short on real history. We don’t have buildings that once housed queens awaiting execution, or palaces that were repurposed as museums once the reigning monarchs were deposed. But at Thanksgiving, all that changes! It is a distinctly North American tradition that at once pays homage to our Native American and European heritages while simultaneously evolving to incorporate new customs. Think about it. We all know someone who makes lasagna instead of turkey on the fourth Thursday of every November, and plenty of families welcome “strays” to dinner that day in the spirit of communal dining. Somehow we’ve figured out how to make a holiday that is both rooted in a noble history and branching out into a progressive future. Yay us!

In our family, we like to call “councils,” something inspired by Native American traditions where a talking stick grants speaking privileges to one person at a time. It’s turned out to be a nice way of commanding attention while also requiring some thoughtful explanations about what we’re all grateful for. (If you know everyone is actually going to listen to you, you kind of have to put some effort into what you’re saying. Everyone will hear you—and mock you remember it—if all you can manage is a weak, “I’m grateful for my iPad.”)

It’s a nice tradition, and one that works for our family. But we end it there. (Besides, of course, the killer pumpkin bread my wife makes. That’s one more tradition worth keeping!) It can be tempting to turn Thanksgiving into a heavy-duty moralizing holiday when you have school-age kids. After all, when else can you require them to think about the abundance of what they have in terms of family, health and stuff? As a result, there’s a tendency to want drill in the lesson: “You’re lucky, dammit, and you’d better appreciate it!” I think, however, that it’s a good idea to hold back and let the gratitude sink in slowly over the years. Just as the tryptophan gradually ekes into your bloodstream for a deliciously drowsy evening, returning each year to the concept of gratitude—for each day, for a good grade, for a date to the prom, for that blasted iPad, WHATEVER—allows it to mature and evolve in unexpected ways. One year your 12-year-old is about as emotive as a hardboiled egg. The next, after surviving transition to middle school or watching a hurricane happen on the other side of the country, he suddenly realizes he sure is lucky. And there’s this day devoted to discussing it.

Like Thanksgiving itself, our kids are rooted in tradition but blossoming into fresh, new individuals. It is, as a parent, a glorious thing to watch.

Last week’s viral attack-and-on-air-rebuttal between Wisconsin anchorwoman Jennifer Livingston and a brawny viewer who’d really rather only see thin people on his morning news show (http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-bully-anchor-20121003,0,6332946.story) has gotten us all talking. And while journalists and readers have debated whether or not the email truly qualified as bullying, what the viewer’s real motives were in attacking her and how Livingston has unequivocally become an articulate anti-bullying advocate, the big question remains: How are kids going to learn not to bully when adults do it to each other every day?

In her speech, Livingston pointed out that kids emulate their parents in the things they say and do, and if we as a country are really honest with ourselves, we’ll recognize one of the last remaining groups it’s culturally okay to hate is the overweight. Armed with a generous dose of Bloomberg-ish self-righteousness and pseudo-scientific correlations between obesity and illness, we deride and find contemptible those who fall somewhere along the fat spectrum. We recast their weight as a matter of choice and discipline because that may be true for us personally, forgetting that, as with all complicated subjects—marriage, mental health, religion, politics—what applies to one person doesn’t necessarily apply to another.

(And before you type an outraged response at my reference to “pseudo-scientific correlations,” check out articles like these (http://www.knackonline.org/oped/obesity-issues.php) which explain how obesity is an associated symptom and not a direct cause of chronic illnesses.)

Perhaps the worst adult-sponsored bullying is the anti-obesity ad campaign in Georgia (http://www.npr.org/2012/01/09/144799538/controversy-swirls-around-harsh-anti-obesity-ads) where heavy kids are used as cautionary tales for parents toying with the idea of including a Hostess cupcake in their kids’ lunch. If ever there were an adult-sanctioned group to ostracize, these ads suggest, heavy children would be it. How’s that for setting an example of kindness and tolerance?

But whether or not you agree that overweight people bear the brunt of cultural repudiation, we should all be able to recognize that our first duty as parents—and our first step as a society determined to end bullying—is to clean up the examples we set. Part of that involves treating our kids with respect. The other part requires us to treat our peers with respect. We might grumble that a colleague was ill-prepared for a meeting,for example, but I hope we’d leave the pointless and subjective condemnations about her weight—or her race or sexual orientation, for that matter—unsaid.

Luckily for us parents, we get to hang onto our kids’ coattails during the fun. And, as with all holidays, Halloween presents unique opportunities for parent-child bonding. Herewith, a few suggestions:

• Pumpkin Picking: It doesn’t matter how old your kid is, everyone likes picking out pumpkins. Go to a patch or go to Trader Joe’s—just spend some time mulling over which pumpkins will best serve the purpose at hand, whether it’s to become a terrifying jack-o-lantern or the fixings of a pumpkin pie. Stop at Starbucks on the way and treat everyone to a pumpkin muffin!
  
  
• Costume Creation: Start with a conversation, which will probably be the best part about this experience if you’re not handy with a needle. Brainstorm ideas about what your kids can be, and pull out your old photo albums to show them how you used to dress up. (It may be a blow to your self-esteem when you have to explain obsolete factoids about New Kids on the Block, but it’s worth it.) Then help them pull together the costume of their dreams. Or go to Pottery Barn Kids and buy the thing pre-made. Just do it together.
  
  
• Deck the Walls: And halls, and tables and ceilings. Do a few simple online searches for homemade decorating ideas, and pick one or two to try together. (Just Google “Halloween Decorating Ideas,” and you’ll find 19,600,000 results like this one (http://www.marthastewart.com/275513/indoor-halloween-decorations/@center/276965/halloween).)
  
  
• Throw a Party: You can organize a big celebration, or just invite your kids’ best friends over to decorate sugar cookies and cupcakes with orange and black sprinkles, themed paper products and the like. It doesn’t have to be fancy, and it’s a great way to have everyone together for an afternoon. (It’s also an excellent way to score a lot of sweets with a minimum of work on your part.)
  
  
• Rent Movies/Read Books: Depending on the type of family you are, pick a Friday night to rent a scary movie or dust off classically creepy verse like “The Raven.” Or, better yet, do both.

Accomplishing anything off this list will yield—besides insane amounts of fun and wildly creative epiphanies—two happy results. One, you get to be a kid again. True, you can’t actually relive your childhood, but at least you get to act like a kid for a few days and recapture some of the enthusiasm that gets lost when you’re dealing with things like whose turn it is to restock the office coffee supply.

Two, you reconnect with your kids. This is the busiest time of year as school and sports get underway, holidays roll into one another and the days literally get shorter. So if you can talk while you carve pumpkins, decorate the front door or eat pumpkin scones together, you’ll get both the trick and the treat of the season. 

Now, I don’t think we’re alone here. When you’re just a couple, all you have to focus on is each other. You support each other’s careers, host fancy dinner parties and escape for long romantic weekends. Throw in a few kids, however, and all that disappears faster than you can say foie gras. Suddenly you’re both overextended as you try to do the right thing for each child, manage the kids’ schedules, stay involved with their schools, make time for your own hobbies and careers and still get dinner on the table.

Luckily for me, I realized over the summer just how important my relationship with my wife is and how distracted we were getting with our own goals and daily commitments. So I took the initiative and decided to change what I didn’t like.

Marriage, as the adage goes, takes work, and for almost everyone I know (myself included), the biggest task is communicating clearly. This seems so obvious, I know, but it’s also so important. That’s why everyone from me to your therapist will extol its virtues. Just as language evolves, so do our communication patterns, and it’s important to check in with yourself and your partner every now and then to make sure you really mean what you’re saying, and that you’re saying it in as clear, supportive and loving a way as possible. I have to admit that sometimes I can be guilty of not honestly expressing myself, and I think it’s challenging for men in general. But it’s a challenge worth overcoming because when you’re communicating well, it restores harmony to your home and relationship.

But I was also looking for more this summer than just polishing up the status quo. I wasn’t trying to make my marriage feel like new exactly. After all, I had happily exchanged the newness for commitment, support and an enduring love. I was, however, looking to feel excited again. And that’s when I decided to approach my marriage as if we were dating. I began sending my wife texts out of the blue, leaving notes in her car, kissing her when she wasn’t expecting it and even initiating a make-out session or two in the car. (Okay, I know that sounds cheesy, but we used to do it in high school, so why not now?) Those little moments eventually lead to bigger moments, which eventually lead to closeness and security. They’re like the building blocks that, when added to the foundation we’ve already established, create the type of relationship I want to live in.

The good news is that this little experiment has actually been fun. I like feeling giddy to see my wife. I like acting like a teenager sometimes. I like feeling like we’ve fallen in love again. When I die, I imagine my epitaph will read, “Lived life to the fullest!” And to me, that means living it with the one I love.

The obvious answer is of course. After all, we learn a great deal about ourselves from children who reflect our behaviors. (That snotty snarl your 5-year-old flashes when he’s annoyed? Yep, that’s exactly what you do.) But the lessons we learn from our kids can run deeper, too, and affect our entire parenting philosophy. This is exactly what happened to me during my vacation a few weeks ago when I took my three kids back East. Somewhere between the excursions to museums and holiday-induced indulgences, my 7-year-old son said something to me that stuck.

“Dad, you do not control me.”

Now I’m willing to bet almost every parent in the world has heard something along these lines before, but perhaps it was the time and place that made me stop and really listen. I was on vacation with my kids but without my wife. I was in charge. I was responsible. I was also in that part of the country where I grew up, albeit I grew up on a 100-acre horse farm in rural Pennsylvania, not New York City. Still, something about my son’s observation made sense to me.

We all read a great deal about how our generation has bred so-called helicopter parents, how we are all neurotic and overbearing. And there may be some truth to this. I think the real issue is that my generation tries to parent the opposite way of how we were raised. In my case, I was raised with a great deal of freedom. My parents were simply not as overprotective as I tend to be. Granted, it was a different time and a different place, but isn’t there a kernel of a truth there that still applies? Aren’t children—whether in the country or the city, in the ‘70s or in 2012—still people with certain rights and needs that must be respected?

I realize that this may strike some as woefully old-fashioned (“Give them space!”) and others as despicably progressive (“Nurture your child’s free spirit!”). I intend it, however, as simply and honestly as my son said it to me. There are no surrounding philosophies to this. There is no guidebook to parenting hinged on this premise. It’s simply an observation that no person can control another. We can guide and shape and suggest and even require, at times, certain things from our kids. But control is off the table.

As a parent, I know I can be a bit overbearing. Sometimes I find myself getting too involved in my kids’ lives. It comes out of love, but what good is it if it pushes my son further away? Acknowledging a child’s inherent independence—which must be granted in degrees relative to his maturity—can be difficult for parents. But, at the end of the day, I discovered that loosening up the reigns a bit transformed my parenting experience for the better.

After living this reality, I’m prepared to say, yes, itvery much was a worthwhile experience. But man, was it exhausting! Just meeting the basics of food, hygiene and not getting run over by deranged cabbies was demanding enough, but I had set my sights even higher. I had goals! It was, I reasoned, a chance for my kids and me to bond, to learn and to share experiences. And since I had no plans to repeat the trip anytime soon, I was determined to make it work.

So I did what any enterprising person does: I delegated. My oldest son is about to turn 13, and I figured this was his big shot at being in charge. Or close to it anyway. I enlisted him as my right-hand man for the trip, the dude who would help keep his little sister and brother in line during our adventures. Happily, it worked—it turns out he’s extremely helpful. And I see now why older kids turn out differently than younger ones. They walk a line between adulthood and childhood the babies in the family never have to. This trip reminded me of that, showing me how myfirstbornson’s boyhood is rapidly drawing to an end.

Which makes teaching and bonding with all of the kids that much more pressing. Who knows how many years I have left before they tune me out completely? Luckily, in a city like New York, the opportunities to soak up knowledge lurk around every corner. Of course, this was summer vacation, so I had to keep the “lessons” short and sweet. The result was the two-sentence “reports” I had my kids give me after we visited places like the Museum of Natural History. No writing, no reading, no research—just a quick verbal recap that showed me they were in fact paying attention. And it’s always interesting to see what sticks in the minds of 5-, 10- and 12-year-olds.

I’m pretty tight with my kids in general, but taking them out of their surroundings proved to be a totally different experience. I’m lucky in that my wife and I are usually fairly equable in our parenting responsibilities, so going solo has been a chance to enjoy more of the rewards—bonding, memories—as well as more of the work that come with single parenting.

The best vacations, of course, leave you with something more than a good tan. They teach you something about yourself, and on this two-week adventure I have learned just how much I appreciate my wife. I don’t mean that in the traditional I’m-a-dad-who-doesn’t-know-how-to-entertain-his-kids-for-more-than-an-hour way. I’m not that dad. I mean it in the way that I value my wife for who she is and what she brings to our family. So often married couples end up taking each other for granted, both as spouses and as parents. Getting some distance from that forces you to recognize what each person brings to the table. That’s true for the work part of parenting—the laundry and the picking up and the shuttling kids to games and lessons—and it’s also true for the fun part. I missed not having her to talk to, not having her to share the funny and the endearing parts of spending the days with the kids. Yes, I’d text her pictures every chance I got, but it wasn’t the same without her, and I’m grateful that, at the end of the two weeks, I could come home to someone who is a real partner in every sense of the word.

Unless you’re a member of the Kardashian family, this is probably something you can relate to. And while there is a certain luxury in being able to wring our hands over whether our kids are too privileged, it doesn’t make the worry any less real. It’s why we engage in endless debates over allowances, setting limits and how to fiscally educate our kids. It’s why we love to hear ourselves tell our children that, “The best things in life are free,” even if we don’t always live by it.

But if the concern is common to everyone, its effects most definitely are not. For some, getting your 16-year-old a Chrysler instead of a BMW is a lesson in humility. For others, living in Central America for a year is the answer. (For real. Check it out here: http://www.brainchildmag.com/essays/spring2012_page.asp) For me, well, I started with a somewhat narrower scope.

Recently I laid down a new law at home: For one month, no one is allowed to ask me or my wife to buy anything. Not an app, not a game, not so much as a pack of gum. (Well, maybe gum is okay.) The idea was to teach my kids some patience and, hopefully, an awareness of just how often they request more new things. If any of them ignore this rule, his or her month gets extended by a day.

In a perfect household, my children would’ve dutifully accepted my edict, spent a week ruminating on its implications and emerged from the month wiser, more frugal and more appreciative. Of course, no household is perfect, least of all children ages 7 to 12. So naturally the first few days were hell. Thankfully, my clause about extending the month usually works to put an end to the grumbling, questioning and general haranguing.

And, as the month wears on, I’m beginning to see some improvement. It gives me hope that this experiment will, in some small way, help make my kids better human beings. Or that, at the very least, I won’t have to pull out my wallet quite so often after this magical month is up.

A night hike to view the stars was amazing! Seeing Saturn up close was unbelievable.

Rock climbing on Mars and launching rockets made the trip one I’ll never forget.

 Waking up to 7 inches of snow made it even more magical not only for the kids but for me too!

Thanks Milly for your guidance. You rocked with the kids!

Looking forward to visiting again in 2 years when it’s my daughter’s turn.