In the end, Barbie got the best of us. Despite weeks of talking and thinking about how to simplify the holiday season and put emphasis on fun times with family rather than the stuff Santa left, my wife, Tara, just couldn’t resist, as she puts it, “making a couple of dreams come true.”

This photo of Chloe, 4, probably tells you all you need to know about her feelings on the matter, but when I asked her last night, she put the Princess Popstar Barbie at the top of the “favorite presents” list. Her 8-year-old sister, Lucia, rated her Surfer Girl Barbie toward the top as well. Sigh. I’ll take some assurance from my aunt Jane, who tells me it’s just a phase: “She [Chloe] has good role models.”

Barbie domination aside, I think we managed to transform this holiday for the better. Most of the girls’ other gifts were thrift-store finds and things they really needed: new winter clothes, toothbrushes, hair bands — stuff we would have bought them anyway, but infused with a little magic because it came wrapped in reindeer paper. Even relatives and friends who usually shower the girls with presents did their best to restrain themselves (a little).

My writings and TV appearances sparked a lot of healthy conversation, and some folks really got what I was trying to do. My friend Lionel, Chloe’s godfather, took the cake by sending the girls a homemade video of his hunt for an experience that would make him feel close to them at Christmas time, even though he lives 3,000 miles away. (If you watch it, you should know that one of their favorite things in the world is to be launched into a pile of beanbags by Lionel — over and over and over again.)

And the experiences: We did manage to have a lot of those, thanks mostly to Tara, who set out to stretch the Christmas holiday across the whole month of December. We saw Irish dancing and a Santa Lucia parade and Christmas light displays. The highlight was a fantastic production of The Nutcracker featuring sets designed by Maurice Sendak. I was amazed at how well my kids knew the story, both from reading the book and seeing the ballet in past years. (During the scene where the nutcracker battles the mouse king, Chloe stood up on her chair and shouted, “Throw your shoe! Throw your shoe!” at the main character, Clara.)

On Christmas Eve, Tara and the girls made goodie bags packed with cookies, fruit, granola bars, and a couple of bucks, and delivered them to homeless people around Seattle. That night, I cooked a big pot of African peanut soup and we feasted with friends, then headed to the beach for a bonfire and hot chocolate and s’mores. (Just like Jesus used to do!) The girls wore themselves out playing tag and tackle-your-sister in the moonlit sand. Rarely, I suspect, have two kids fallen asleep faster on the night before Christmas.

And me? “The Grinch”? “Ecodad”? The guy who asked people to get his kids nothing for Christmas? I can’t remember a holiday season as rich and full as this one. Even the presents were awesome. From Lucia, I got a great handmade picture with the message, “I wold like to bild a tree howse with you for Christmas!!!!” Chloe’s card said, “Let’s go mountain climbing!” Tara gave me a gift certificate for a night at a Russian sauna.

None of these are things — just promises of more good times to come. And that’s what I gave them, too. Lucia and Chloe each got two “daddy days” — days of their choosing in the coming year when they can call everything off (school, work) and go on an adventure with me, or just stay home and read a good book. Lucia got an afternoon at the art museum. Chloe got a trip to the zoo. Tara got 52 personal days — one day a week during the coming year when I’ll take the kids and she can do whatever she wants. It’s my effort to clear space in her life so she can take care of herself rather than us for a change.

Sure, my “nothings” couldn’t compete with Barbie for sheer, visceral, Christmas Day ecstasy. But I bet if I ask them a few years from now what they remember about this holiday season, it’s the experiences that will stick with them, not the stuff.

So thanks, everyone, for all the holiday wishes and gifts — and especially for the nothings. It’s been a great ride. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are mountains to climb and tree houses to build.

There’s something in the air this season — and I’m not talking about the smell of hot credit cards. People are pushing for simpler holiday celebrations — and some of them are pushing pretty hard.

The New York Times ran a profile Saturday of Kalle Lasn, the 70-year-old mastermind behind Adbusters. The magazine surprised many of us a year ago by sparking the Occupy Wall Street protests. Now, Lasn is on a quest to convince the developed world to stop with the shopping, already.

Lasn is one of the forces behind turning Black Friday — the day after Thanksgiving, a major shopping frenzy — into “Buy Nothing Day,” and he’s now pushing “Buy Nothing Christmas,” asking people to march on Times Square from tomorrow through New Years Day brandishing signs that read “#BuyNothingXmas.” From the Times:

“As our planet gets warmer, as animals go extinct, as the humans get sicker, as our economies bail and our politicians grow ever more twisted,” Americans just go shopping, Adbusters says on its Web site. Overconsumption is destroying us, yet shopping is “our solace, our sedative: consumerism is the opiate of the masses.”

“We’ve got to break the habit,” Mr. Lasn said in a telephone interview. “It will be a shock, but we’ve got to shift to a new paradigm. Otherwise, I’m afraid will be facing a new Dark Age.”

Well if that doesn’t get you into a festive mood, maybe this will: Dante Chinni, writing in the Washington Post opinion section, suggests that we stop telling our kids there’s a Santa Claus. His 9- and 7-year-old kids have figured out that the notion of a fat dude flying around behind a bunch of airborne reindeer is pretty unlikely. Looking back, he writes, “if I had it to do over again, I would leave Kris Kringle out of our holidays altogether — at least when it comes to depicting him to our kids as a real person.”

Think for a moment about other lessons you teach your children. Planes fly because of aerodynamics and thrust. Kids shouldn’t put their heads in the railing because they could get stuck. And yet, here we are talking about a guy who pilots a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer around the world in one night, going up and down people’s chimneys. How? Well, he’s magic. He’s reality’s exception. America doesn’t need any more people who deny reality — at any age.

This may surprise you, but I take issue with both Lasn and Chinni. (For those of you just joining us, I’ve asked friends and family to get my kids nothing for Christmas this year.)

I’m guilty of getting a little doomy and gloomy about Americans’ consumption habits. But unlike Lasn, my main motivation is not to save the planet — although, yes, that too. My missions are to clear my home of a lot of unwanted clutter and to breathe some meaning back into a holiday that’s been turned into a nasty stress-fest.

If I had my way, Christmas would look more like it did in 17th century England, before the Puritans got a hold of it. Here’s a description from a Times op-ed by Rachel Schnepper, a history fellow at Washington and Lee:

It was a period of carousing and merriment. The weeks around Christmas were celebrated with feasting, drinking, singing and games. Mummers would … dress up in costumes, often in the clothes of the opposite sex, to perform plays in the streets or in homes. Carolers, too, would sing door to door as well as in the home. Wealthy lords threw open their manors, inviting local peasants and villagers inside to gorge on food and drink. Groups of young men called wassailers would march in and demand to be feasted or given gifts of money in exchange for their good wishes and songs.

And unlike Chinni, I think there is some magic to childhood that’s worth nurturing. I’m personally not a huge fan of the dude in the red suit, but my girls and I have a great time poking around the woods for fairies and the characters in the A.A. Milne books. I think they know full well that we’re playing imaginary games, but they can get lost in them. And they should — that’s what kids do.

So on Christmas Eve, I say this: If your kids want to believe in Santa, don’t spoil it for them. But this year, maybe Santa can bring something more meaningful than the usual pile of store-bought junk. Your home — and yes, the planet — will be better for it.

Happy holidays!

Need a few last-minute ideas for holiday fun that’s easy on the wallet and the planet both? We’ve got a million and one of them (at least!) right here.

Grist Senior Editor Greg Hanscom, who is on a campaign to create the best Christmas ever for his wife and two young daughters — without buying them any presents — appeared with Velez-Mitchell yesterday on a spot called, “A happier, more memorable holiday?” Here it is:

The numbers in this spot merit a little, um, clarification. The EPA says Americans create 1 million tons of excess trash during the holidays — not 100 million, as Hanscom said. (Oops.) Still, that’s 2 billion pounds of additional garbage. Eep.

We’re not sure where Velez-Mitchell got “something like 40 percent of our overconsumption occurs between Thanksgiving and New Years.” The National Retail Federation reports that “for some retailers, the holiday season can represent anywhere between 20-40 percent of annual sales.”

How much of that is overconsumption vs. putting food on the table, we’d be hard pressed to tell you. But here’s a number we can stand behind: Add this spot to the 20/20 spot, and Hanscom has burned all but 14 of his allotted minutes of fame.

Want more? Try these:

• Nothing corporate: Holiday shopping outside the big-box store
  One Grist writer has vowed to buy only from local shops and craftspeople this season. Her haul so far includes a set of coasters “up-cycled” from some old 45s and a couple of pairs of earrings made from “found objects.”
• This year, make it a DIY Christmas
  Our “Greenie Pig” columnist is doing a gift exchange with her family this year to cut down on excess/ unwanted junk — and everything has to be homemade. (She’ll be giving home-made jam and a liquor called “cherry bounce” — recipe included in the story.)
• Enough with the Christmas cookies: Five unpredictable homemade food gifts
  Gingerbread and sugar cookies too cliche? Our food editor dished up recipes for granola, flavored salt, pesto, and lemon curd.

To clarify, it didn’t mean we wouldn’t buy anything at all, but when we did need something, we’d try to find it used. When we could, we’d borrow or rent. Of course we still buy our food new and we make exceptions for some essentials like toiletries and medicine — and underwear. The idea is to be more conscious and thoughtful about the things we do buy. Progress, not necessarily perfection.

The experiment has not only altered my relationship with stuff, it’s opened my eyes to all kinds of people — and whole movements — dedicated to simplifying their lives and breaking out of joyless consumerist mindsets.

Recently, I found out about Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus — a.k.a. the Minimalists. They blog about living with less and being happier for it. At the moment, they’re at the tail end of their “Holiday Happiness Tour.” They also have a new book out: Minimalism: Live a Meaningful Life.

These guys are true converts. By their late 20s they’d both worked hard to “have it all”: six-figure jobs, big houses, fancy cars, and all kinds of expensive “toys.” By most conventional measures, they’d achieved the American Dream. Yet with all that stuff, they write, “we knew we weren’t satisfied with our lives.” It dawned on them that they were spending all their time working, and rather than being fulfilled by their possessions, they felt buried under them.

Seeking to regain control, they stumbled onto “minimalism,” the idea that living more simply leads to increased freedom and happiness. They embraced it, big time. They quit their jobs and commenced paring their own lives down to the bare essentials — as they define it, trading empty status and stuff for their health, relationships, passions, growth, and contributions to others. They dedicated new careers to teaching others to follow suit. Recently they even moved from their native Ohio to a remote cabin in Montana.

The principles of a minimalist lifestyle are flexible, though — you don’t have to quit your job, go live in the woods, or commit to owning fewer than 100 things to adhere. The idea, as one of their mentors, Leo Babauta of Zen Habits, puts it, is to shed “the excesses of consumerism, material possessions, clutter, having too much to do, too much debt, too many distractions, too much noise. But too little meaning.”

Ryan and Josh’s 21-Day Journey to Minimalism is a step-by-step guide to uncluttering your life. On Day 3, they have a “packing party,” where they box up everything in the house. Little by little, over the next seven days, they unpack, starting with the essentials — toothbrush, drinking glass, a change of clothes. Eventually they evaluate what’s left in the boxes, including the “things you think you need,” “things you’re afraid to get rid of,” and “things you keep just in case.”

They’re ruthless, and way ahead of this archivist’s daughter when it comes to tossing family photos and keepsakes (they scan photos first). In the end, they donated, sold, or trashed a vast portion of their unused, unnecessary possessions. The idea is that you really don’t need most of the stuff if it didn’t come out of the box for a week — not to mention the stuff that’s been in boxes for years in your basement!

The genre of the blog and the books is definitely self-help, some of it a little trumped up for my taste. For example, I doubt I’ll be using “mission” in place of “career” in casual conversation anytime soon, though I appreciate the sentiment. I also found myself wondering if the Minimalists see sustainability as a motivation — cutting landfill waste and emissions and saving natural resources — along with their laudable goals of spending less and being happier and healthier. Their recommendation to purge anything that you can easily replace doesn’t strike me as particularly green — unless what they say is true: that you will find you replace very few items on that list.

That said, minimalism’s insistence on mindfulness about what we consume is right up my alley. I think it makes greener consumers of us as well — even if it’s merely a happy side effect. And the notion that increased freedom comes with shedding our consumerist habits (and trappings) resonates with me too. This has certainly been my lived experience over the past 12 months.

And just think of all the precious time there is to nurture ourselves and our important relationships when we reclaim hours currently spent shopping/surfing for, buying,  sorting, organizing, and storing our ungodly amounts of stuff.

Aw man, I’m touched. Really. A couple of weeks back, I asked for ideas for making this the best Christmas ever for my wife and two young daughters — this, after telling a national television audience that I wasn’t going to buy my kids any presents, and asking my friends and family to refrain as well.

I just spent half a day reading through all the comments and tweets. The good news? You’re full of great ideas. The bad news? I now have no excuses. This has to be the most memorable, non-materialistic Christmas on record, or I will forever be known as the Grinch.

So what did you all tell me? Here’s a taste:

The blogger who calls herself CelloMom brought some pretty jaw-dropping statistics to my attention:

• The National Retail Federation estimates that Americans will spend $586.1 billion on gifts this holiday season.

• An online survey conducted for eBay in Nov. 2008 found that of U.S. adults who receive gifts during the holidays, 83 percent receive unwanted items.

The good people at CSRWire multiplied those numbers together and concluded that this equates to $486.5 billion in unwanted gifts, but that’s an overstatement; 83 percent said they received unwanted items — not that every present they received was unwanted. Still, that’s a lot of bad sweaters cluttering America’s closets.

“Oh, but think of the kids,” you say. “There’s nothing like the magic of opening presents on Christmas day!”

Consider this: Researchers affiliated with UCLA recently found that while the U.S. is home to 3.1 percent of the world’s kids, we have 40 percent of its toys. Each new child in a household leads to a 30 percent increase in a family’s inventory of possessions — and that’s just during the kid’s preschool years. As a result, three out of four garages are too full to hold cars, and in many homes, managing all the junk is so burdensome that it elevates levels of stress hormones for mothers.

“With the exception of the imperial offspring of the Ming dynasty and the dauphins of pre-Revolutionary France, contemporary American kids may represent the most indulged young people in the history of the world,” Elizabeth Kolbert wrote in The New Yorker in July.

I’m pretty sure the kids are gonna be fine. And apparently I’m not alone in wanting to scale back. The Center for a New American Dream reports that more than three-quarters of Americans want the holidays to be less materialistic. And more good news: Less can, in fact, be more.

Here are a few thoughts you sent via Twitter:

@grist Watching Alastair Sim's version of "A Christmas Carol" w/ hot chocolate in hand on Xmas Eve before bed. #shiftthegift #2020Holidays—
Mike Crisolago (@MikeCrisolago) December 08, 2012

@grist Driving to my grandparents' house on Christmas Eve, listening to a radio show about Cinnamon Bear #shiftthegift #2020Holidays—
D.D. and Lars (@DDandLarsJason) December 08, 2012

What’s the best non-material gift you ever got?

DVD of my GPa's 35MM slides; Cookbook of GMa's recipe notecards RT @grist Best non-material gift you ever got? #shiftthegift #2020Holidays—
kristy graves (@kg) December 07, 2012

What non-material gifts are you giving this year?

#shiftthegift. I am in Gaza this holiday season so I'm sending video messages from me to each family member.—
Lora Lucero (@LoraLucero) December 11, 2012

@ghanscom I like to donate to organizations as a gift for people. And I like when people do the same for me. #shiftthegift—
Heather M (@RaptorH) December 11, 2012

@1PercentFTP @TreeHugger just adopted a #wolf from @Defenders of Wildlife for a gift this #holiday #LoveYourMother #shiftthegift—
Sally Dabrowski (@sallydabrowski) December 13, 2012

Ashley Whittenberger, aka @CosmicChica, said her “creatively kooky” mother always does a themed holiday dinner. Kooky indeed, but I love it. Costumes are big in my house. I’m sure we could put something together.

And here’s a wacky one I had never considered. Reader Jason Anthony Tetro suggested that people “give the gift of germs” and help citizen science while you’re at it. A company called uBiome is collecting bacteria samples from people’s orifices in an attempt to map the human “microbiome.” Cool! And disgusting! (Tetro wrote about the project for HuffPo.)

The comment sections on my columns are a treasure trove of ideas. One reader, Vivi, wrote an entire arts and crafts book under my piece “Married father of two seeks Best Christmas Ever. No gifts allowed.”

A college freshman writing under the name UMWstudent had this to say: “When I think about the best gift I have received, it was by far horseback riding lessons as a 4th grader. I continued on to win national championships in endurance riding in the junior division. From this one gift I learned lessons such as responsibility, perseverance, etc.”

My favorite suggestion of all came from Sara W Peterson: “You might want to try finding a boat of some flavor and having [your kids] stay up all night to watch the night sky … and watch the sun come up … the first time they stay up all night and watch the sun come up is something that will stay with them for their entire lives.”

Ooh, I’m going to steal that idea — maybe not an all-nighter just yet, but some day.

Then there was this story, from a commenter calling herself Jen_I_Am:

The last holiday we went all-out was the 2005 season following Katrina. We and just about everybody we knew lost everything and most were living in FEMA-supplied travel trailers, some with relatives, and still others were living in the least damaged room of their gutted homes or had left the area entirely.

Our decision to stop the madness came when filling out the contents portion of our flood claim. It was a very rude awakening to see just how much unnecessary crap we had and how little importance it had when everyone became equals in a disaster landscape. It’s been an awesome relief to step away from the holiday pressures and frenzy, and we have found that in doing so, we have cut out an enormous amount of waste and frivolity from the rest of our lives.

Nothing like a major tragedy to put everything into perspective. That’s the way I was feeling this past weekend, following the news that 26 people, including 20 children, had been gunned down in a Connecticut elementary school. I’ve never been happier to be able to push the pressures of mainstream America (only 10 shopping days left until Christmas!) aside and just spend some quality time with my kids.

Saturday night, we went to a Celtic Yuletide concert in downtown Seattle. Chloe, my 4-year-old, was entranced with the Irish dancing. Saturday, I convinced the girls to go bike riding in the pouring rain, then we wrapped ourselves in blankets and they sipped hot chocolate while I read a chapter from The Hobbit.

My plans for a non-material Christmas are shaping up, thanks to all of you, but I’m afraid there are a couple of presents I need to give this year. During our Twitter chat last week, it came to my attention that our social media maestra, Hanna Welch, has never tried wassail — something that must be remedied. Also, the good people at 20/20 have something coming to them. Their final gag during their TV interview with me was to present me with a dancing Santa doll. Well, two can play that game.

Looking to simplify your holiday? Here are a few more resources:

• The Center for a New American Dream’s “Simplify the Holidays” pledge includes a bunch of great suggestions.

• Also from New Dream, a nice piece from Jenny Blair about meeting the holiday madness with “creative resistance” and ideas for “helping your kids give back.”

• Reader Kitty Overton pointed me to New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof’s list of “gifts that change lives.”

• Treehugger recently published a list of “10 Offbeat Charity Gifts that Do the World Good,” which includes dung, a butterfly, a camel, and a song to save children.

• Interfaith Power & Light, a religious group that is addressing climate change, has more thoughtful ideas for a low-impact holiday.

• If you’re feeling crafty, reader Kyle Keener pointed me to the Instructables website.

• Alison Wiley, who blogs at Diamond Cut Life, has some good tips for how to break the rules at Christmas.

• Finally, reader Chandana Sapparapu provided a link to a blog post she wrote about why she requests that people not bring presents to her young child Dhatri’s birthday parties.

More than a week into December, I remain relatively unscathed by corporate Christmas chaos (although I’ll admit I caved to the craving for a Starbucks Peppermint Mocha). ‘Tis the season to make you realize what a commercially saturated society we live in — it bombards you from every side: the unbearable soft-rock holiday music playing on loop in the doctor’s office, the sad, cluttered “seasonal” aisle at the drugstore, the bus driver wearing a Santa hat.

I’m not even one of those wet-blanket scrooges who hate everything Christmas, either. I baked gingerbread last weekend, I get a thrill from the smell of Douglas fir on a cold morning, and I’ve been known to get verklempt if I hear Judy Garland singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” after a bit too much eggnog. Actually, my sentimental enthusiasm for Christmas is what makes me cringe at the corporate crap even more — for sucking the soul out of what should be a quiet, cozy, reflective holiday. (I think the film that best represents my feelings toward Christmas is The Homecoming, the 1971 made-for-TV movie that launched the series The Waltons. My family watches it every year, and I’m not the only one who cries. Go ahead, judge us.)

Given my growing distaste for forced consumerism, Buy Nothing (Corporate) Christmas is a welcome challenge. I kicked it off with a weekend arts-and-crafts binge, hitting up two local art fairs. At Art Under $100, held in a community center in one of Seattle’s more neglected (and thus probably soon-to-be-hip) neighborhoods, they had a DJ, snacks, and local IPAs for $2 a pop, so you could get buzzed while you checked out all the handmade pottery, jewelry, art, clothing, and knick-knacks. I bought a set of coasters made out of old 45s from a kid trying to raise money to go to film camp, a tie-dyed skirt from a woman who sews roller derby outfits for her daughters, and a couple pairs of found-object earrings from a vendor who showed me the design of the bee tattoo she wants to get. It was Christmas shopping farmers-market style, a rare opportunity to chat directly with the folks who make what you’re buying.

The next day I checked out Urban Craft Uprising, a twice-yearly event that’s attained the status of a Nike product release among local hipsters — people apparently line up hours before it opens to snag early-bird gift bags and get first crack at this festive, in-the-flesh version of Etsy. I didn’t saunter in until the last couple hours, but the offerings were still overwhelming, making Art Under $100 seem tiny in comparison. (But to be honest, I liked the scrappier, neighborly feel of the first event better.) I had the predictable problem of just wanting to buy things for myself — like two original Northwest-themed prints that I might yet decide to “give to my roommates” (the best way to technically give something away but still get to enjoy it yourself). I had better luck with this event last year; this time I didn’t see as many items that immediately struck me as perfect for any certain someone.

That’s the thing about this kind of holiday shopping — it renders wish lists moot, because if you go in search of something specific, you might walk away empty-handed. Cruising vendors’ tables with an open mind, discovering something unique and unexpected, is part of what makes the experience an adventure as opposed to a chore. But there’s always the chance that you won’t find anything — and suddenly you’ll remember that flea market you stopped at on the way back from a camping trip in July and wonder why you didn’t impulsively get that pint glass you knew your dad would love.

In some ways, the search for original, non-corporate presents makes you realize that maybe having a single time of year dedicated to supposedly heartfelt gift-giving is wack. Isn’t it more genuine to give when the moment strikes you, instead of when society demands it, and thus when everyone’s expecting it, and probably already preparing for disappointment? From now on I’ll try to make a practice of accumulating gifts throughout the year, stowing them away until birthdays and Christmas.

The other drawback to buying hand-made, artisanal stuff is that it can be pricey, at least compared to Target. Of course, like sustainably grown food, you’re paying for quality, hard work, and transparency, instead of the artificially low price of factory-produced crap. But no matter how much we want to support independent artists, some of us simply don’t have the budget for a $30 mug or a $50 screen-printed sweatshirt. (Not all the prices were that high, mind you — I was happy to pay $5 for a pair of earrings and $20 for a beautiful-yet-practical purse. Some vendors will cut you a deal, too, if it’s close to closing time or you’re buying several things at once.)

The best solution, to me, is quality over quantity — a Buy Less (but Better) Christmas. (God forbid you have any Dudley Dursleys in your family.) A few nice things from the art fair or local shops, supplemented with homemade stuff — an option which doesn’t have to exclude non-crafty types like me. I may not know the difference between knitting and crocheting, but I make decent baked goods, and as one reader pointed out, “who doesn’t love getting food? Canned goods, baking, fresh veggies, fresh grown sprouts, homemade yogurt …” (How about some home-brewed kombucha?)

You, Grist readers, offered tons of great ideas for gifts that don’t require spending gobs of money. Some of my favorites: garden things (do you save heritage seeds?); planned activities and outings (a great alternative to toys for kids); gift certificates for babysitting, yard work, or other services; a compilation of favorite recipes (better than a glossy $30 cookbook); donations in a loved one’s name to a good cause; or donations of your talents: Are you a musician who could offer lessons as a gift? An aspiring massage therapist looking for practice? A developer who could help shine up a friend’s website? Artist friends have given me original pieces before, and I’ve considered channeling my gift-giving spirit into a piece of writing.

The most important thing to remember is that every family celebrates the holidays in its own way, and often these traditions are linked to our deeply held values and unique personal tastes — which is to say, there’s no right or wrong way to do this. Some of you may eschew gifts of all kinds; some may strive to avoid stuff; others may make a point of shopping local; and maybe some of you recognize that an annual mall outing is something that holds your family together, and far be it from us to take that away. We’re only offering suggestions and inspiration for those of you interested in shifting the gift in some manner. Let us know how it goes!

It’s that season again — when UPS delivery people work overtime to rush fruitcakes and ill-fitting sweaters to our far-flung friends and relatives, and Americans everywhere get into the holiday spirit by bludgeoning each other to get the bargain smartphones at their favorite big-box store.

This year, Grist Senior Editor Greg Hanscom has decided to fight back. On Black Friday, he penned an open letter to friends and family asking them to get his two young daughters nothing for Christmas, and explaining that he and his wife, Tara, are trying to put the focus on special holiday experiences rather than just amassing more stuff. The letter attracted the attention of the TV news program 20/20, which included Greg and his family in its Friday evening holiday extravaganza. The name of 20/20’s segment: “Christmas Extremists.”

Greg served as the foil for Shay Gibbons, whose Tulsa, Okla., home, according to 20/20, is decked out with 169 Christmas trees, 100 nativity scenes, dozens of inflatable yard characters, 50,000 ornaments, and 100,000 lights. After a tour of the Gibbons home, the camera flashes to Greg, explaining that he doesn’t get his kids Christmas presents — a quote that gets replayed with a hilarious echo effect just for added impact on the shopping public. Here’s the segment:

That’s right! Jesus would approve of this holiday madness! He was a big shopper after all …

OK, truth be told, Greg’s kids loved the part about all the Christmas trees. They’re campaigning for a road trip to Tulsa just to get a look at the Gibbons house.

But lest you think Greg’s message was lost on the credit-card waving hordes, there’s this: A viewer poll that ran alongside the video on 20/20’s website asked, “Who’s got more Holiday spirit: the Tulsa woman with 169 Christmas trees or the Seattle dad who gives his kids experiences instead of gifts?”

At last count, Gibbons had 173 votes. Grist’s “Eco-dad” had 1,101. Eat your heart out, Santa Claus! (1,375 voters called it a tie. Want to add your vote? The survey is here.)

What do you make of all this? Are you struggling to dematerialize your holiday? Got a favorite stuff-free seasonal ritual? We’d love to know. We’ll be hosting a Twitter chat on the subject tomorrow. UPDATE: Twitter chat begins on Tuesday, Dec. 11, at 12:30 Pacific time (that’s 3:30 p.m. Eastern). We’ll be using the hash tag #shiftthegift. Follow @grist for details.

Not into the Twitter? Write a comment below, or comment on our Facebook page. Whatever you do, be careful out there: You do not want to get between America and its Christmas deals.

When Grist advice maven Umbra Fisk asked the good folks at TerraCycle if they had any ideas for reusing old movie film, they were happy to oblige! Here are their instructions for making filmstrip gift bows — check out their other seasonal DIY projects to see how to make bows from food packaging, ornaments from toothpaste tubes, and more!

Skill level: medium

Time: 20 minutes

Bonus: video instructions for the visually inclined

Materials you need:
50 inches of movie film or other three-quarter-inch-wide material
Ruler
Marker
Scissors
Hole punch
Paper fastener

1. Cut the film into three lengths of nine inches, two lengths of eight inches, and one length of four inches.

2. Punch holes on ends of all pieces. Then, punch holes in the center of all pieces except for the shortest piece.

3. Create a loop with the shortest piece and insert the paper fastener through the punched holes.

4. Take the second-shortest piece and create a loop lining up all three holes in the center. Take the paper fastener from small loop and insert through the holes in the second piece.

5. Repeat step 4 for all remaining pieces. Insert the paper fastener through each one, going from shortest to longest. Secure the back of the bow by opening the ends of the paper fastener.

6. Wrap your package in other recycled paper. Add your bow to the top and that’s a wrap!

Trying to think more, um, sustainably about the holidays this year? So, it seems, is everyone else. It’s hardly an innovation that 2012 can claim to own — in fact, it has become a holiday tradition in its own right.

It’s what was on the mind of Grist Senior Editor Greg Hanscom, when, confronted with the prospect of another Black Friday post-turkey shopping spree, he penned an open letter to his family and friends. “Please get my kids nothing for Christmas,” he begged. Posted here at Grist, Greg’s plea for a saner approach to a less stuff-y holiday fired up many of our readers’ imaginations, caught the eye of some of our friends in TV-land, and led us to declare it, officially, our Grist theme for December: For the holidays this year, make it anything but stuff. Shift the gift!

Of course we can’t claim that any of this is truly new. Long before someone had the bright idea of transmuting “gift” into a verb, many of us were scratching our heads looking for ways to dematerialize the annual solstice celebrations. I’m sure we’re eventually going to discover a cave-wall drawing recording the moment at which some hapless neolithic family, surveying the dwindling space in its communal burrow, let out the cry of “TOO MUCH STUFF!”

Still: Ideas have moments, and surely this is this year’s merry meme. We are years into a grueling recession that has only improved around the edges. We are reeling from a storm that battered large chunks of the East Coast. We see with deepening clarity that our system hasn’t yet embraced the changes needed to deflect the curve of climate change.

We won’t let that stop us from enjoying the holidays. But the last thing we need is to do so by gathering piles of stuff that we don’t really need and may not even want.

Celebration without accumulation! Or, as we intend to chant, with our human mics cranked up as loud as we know how, “Shift the gift!”

Oh help. I’ve really done it this time, guys. I wrote a column for Black Friday asking my friends and relations to get my kids nothing for Christmas. Now I know what you’re thinking: What a noble request! A father trying to introduce his children to the joys of a simple holiday! What could possibly go wrong? Well, let me tell you.

First, let me say that, contrary to what you may have read in the comment section below that column, I was not scarred by horrible holidays as a child. I grew up in a mountain town. My Christmas memories are made of snow crystals and red plastic sleds, ski days and spruce boughs. Yes, Santa came to our house, and we exchanged gifts, but the highlight of the holiday season was the time we spent outdoors.

Let me also say that my wife, Tara, and I have some rich holiday traditions of our own. We celebrate Santa Lucia Day, a solstice tradition that is strong in Scandinavia. (Our eldest daughter is named for the saint, whose surrogate appeared in my bedroom late one wintry night when I was in college, bearing candles, mugs of hot chocolate, and a tray of saffron buns.) Each year, we have a solstice fire in our backyard and host a feast for family and friends. One of my favorite traditions involves an annual running race around Baltimore’s Druid Hill Park, which we follow with a great wassail-drinking fest and an off-kilter run home through the snowy streets, exchanging greetings with the local denizens as we pass.

On Christmas, Tara and I always get the whole family outside for some frolicking in the snow (or mud, which is almost as much fun) — and yes, Santa does come to our house. Tara is amazing at whipping up holiday magic for Lucia, who is 8, and her 4-year-old sister, Chloe. The trouble, as I said in my oh-so-tactful “nothing for Christmas” column, is the sheer volume of gifts that spill from the UPS truck, er, St. Nick’s sleigh, from the far corners of the country.

To cut down on the clutter and send a message of simplicity, I have always opted against getting my kids things for Christmas. Instead, I give them experiences — a sleep-out in a snow cave or a day on the ski hill. But come to find out, my holiday cheer leaves something to be desired. Like, a lot to be desired. Apparently, I’m a total Scrooge McDuck.

This came to my attention last week, when someone asked me to name the worst present I’d ever given Tara. Worst present? Have I ever given a bad one? I sent her a text message to inquire. The response arrived about 30 seconds later:

“Well the first thing that comes to mind is when you gave me the flower bulbs and then got mad at me when I didn’t plant them … The 11th commandment: And ye who so giveth bulbs shall plant them in the earth and witnesseth the delight upon the receiver when said bulbs spring forth without effort.”

Note to self: If you’re going to give a gift that involves an “experience,” be sure it’s one your giftee is interested in having. Also, bone up on those commandments.

My failures as a holiday sprite were thrown into the spotlight, literally, after I wrote the “nothing for Christmas” column. Last Tuesday, I got a call from a producer at 20/20 — you know, the TV news show — asking if I might be interested in talking about my no-presents crusade on national television. Sure, I said. “This has got to be one of the world’s greatest ironies,” said Tara, when I called her: “You’re going to be on a show about Christmas traditions.”

I really am bad at this, aren’t I?

Right, well, fast-forward 48 hours, and not one, but two camera crews show up at our house. A few hours later, a reporter arrives from L.A., and a producer flies in from New York. We spent the entire day with them. By now, you may have seen the resulting spot. [Update: Here's the segment.] Tara was a star with her talk of making the holidays special while trying to keep the materialism in check. The girls, only semi-aware of what I’d written, seemed bemused. I, no doubt, dug myself in even deeper.

And this is where you, dear readers, come into the picture. I’ve committed myself to giving my kids no things for Christmas, and I’ve asked the family to do the same. So far, we seem to have pretty good buy-in. Here’s one representative response from Tara’s brother via email:

“Loved your article … very funny … but as the #1 Uncle I’m sorry to report that I can’t abide. :) Promise that I only picked out 1 item for each of the girls … and I think they will be fun ‘activities’ rather than random toys.”

Progress! I love this man! But now it’s up to me to show that I am capable of celebrating the holiday in style — nay, that I am the very embodiment of the Christmas spirit, dropped to Earth to spread joy to one and all! (Only, sadly, armed only with my wits and lacking a sack full of gifts.)

What should I do? How do I make this Christmas magical for Tara and the girls without giving in to the urge to get them more stuff? (We have quite enough stuff, really!) What sort of outings or adventures or expressions of love should I regale them with? Post your best ideas in the comment section below, if you’d be so kind. We’re hosting a Twitter chat on the subject on Tuesday, Dec. 11, at 12:30 Pacific time (that’s 3:30 p.m. Eastern). We’ll be using the hash tag #shiftthegift. (“Shift the Gift” is Grist’s theme for December.) Follow @grist for details.

My holiday promise to you: I’ll let you know what I end up doing, and get an honest reaction from my girls. With any luck, this will be the Best Christmas Ever, even if they do have to spend it with a recovering McDuck.