For those of us who do not get a visit from Santa this time of year, there can be some slightly awkward holiday moments.

Like the time in elementary school when my teacher instructed the class to write about our favorite Christmas gifts. I was afraid that if I wrote the truth, I might flunk the assignment, so I made up descriptions of new sweaters and toys. The few times I dared to tell classmates that Christmas morning was just like any other morning in our house, they looked at me with such disbelief and pity that I figured it was better to spare them the shock. It was a bit isolating to be left out of what seemed to be such a communal holiday.

And now, my children have had to negotiate their own responses to the well-intentioned questions by strangers and acquaintances.

We were waiting in line at the deli when a kindly older man leaned over to ask my then-preschooler what Santa was bringing her. She looked him square in the eye and said: "Nothing."

He got flustered, and I felt a little sorry for him. Every year, my children will be asked this question over and over by adults in malls, grocery stores and on the playground.

We've talked to our children about how each religion has its own special days, and remind them about our celebrations. My daughter accepted this explanation right away. But when my son kept insisting that surely Santa would visit his house, I got them each little presents and talked about the spirit of giving during this time of year.

I've never felt that the festivities of another culture or religion threaten my own. Our children should feel at ease appreciating their differences, and feel comfort in what they recognize as their own traditions.

To be honest, I'm a sucker for Christmas. I'll sing carols in the car or while shopping. I have several boxes of silver ornaments, garland on our fireplace and miniature decorative trees on our tables. I love buying gifts, and I can't resist holiday parties or cookies. I mail holiday cards with Eid stamps on the envelopes.

And as an adult, I've realized that it's a great time of year to celebrate as an outsider. I can enjoy the beauty of the season without the stress of unrealistic expectations. I'm glad my children don't get struck by the gimmes. Instead, we can adopt families who need gifts. We can tell people like our garbage workers, newspaper delivery man and neighbors that we appreciate them.

This year, I persuaded my spouse to string some lights on the pillars outside our home. It just looks festive. My youngest looked at me and said, "You know we don't celebrate Christmas, Mama."

I said: "I know. We're just having some holiday spirit."

A couple of nights later, he told me the Hanukkah story in surprising and accurate detail. He heard it last year from a parent volunteer who came to share the story with his class, and again this year from the school librarian.

I was impressed with his rendition. It seemed fitting for a season celebrating peace and love to have my Muslim child share a Jewish story days before we shopped for his teachers' Christmas gifts.

So, from our family to yours: Have a wonderful holiday, however you choose to celebrate.

I'm struggling to name another parent more different from myself and my peers than Adrian Peterson or Mama June.

It's not because they are celebrities -- one famous athlete and one questionable reality TV star.

It's because each of them behaved in ways this year that seemed far outside what's considered normal by conventional parenting standards. For parents who question themselves nearly as often as they feel judged by others, the misdeeds of celebrity parents seem to push the rest of us up the bell curve.

Public parenting mistakes may seem like the safest way to pass judgment on a person everyone knows, but no one knows personally. Yet even when they remind us which lines we would not cross, they reveal something about our culture and about ourselves. To attempt to distance ourselves from the most egregious parenting behaviors is to miss the opportunity to see the big picture.

NFL running back Adrian Peterson has not played for the Minnesota Vikings since September, when he was charged with abusing his 4-year-old son. He pleaded no contest in November to misdemeanor reckless assault for hitting his son with a wooden switch, which caused welts and bleeding on the child's back, legs, buttocks, genitals and ankles.

If America had watched a video of a 6-foot, 217-pound man whipping a 4-year-old boy's bare body, would there be any question about whether that man committed a crime? Probably not. It's one thing to debate appropriate discipline, but it's another to actually see a professional football player take a switch 10 to 15 times to a preschool-age child to the point that it draws blood and leaves marks days later.

Even parents who have spanked their children, and many have, wouldn't go this far.

But who among us has not felt a moment of fury, an outsized reaction to a child's misbehavior that pushed our buttons beyond our rational self? What if our worst parenting moments were recorded and posted for the world to see?

Peterson's actions reminded us how easy it can be to escalate a situation and how easily a grown adult can seriously hurt a small child.

Another person out of a job this year because of questionable parenting was reality TV star "Mama June" Shannon, the matriarch of TLC's now-canceled "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo." She allegedly renewed a relationship with Mark McDaniel, the man who reportedly molested her daughter when the girl was 8 years old. Although Shannon denies dating McDaniel, her pattern of behavior suggests deep denial about the severity of what her daughter suffered.

Child sexual abuse is far more common than most adults would like to believe. Most researchers who study the prevalence of child sexual abuse suggest the rate is between 8 percent to 20 percent of all children.

The true prevalence of child sexual abuse is not known, because victims are reluctant to report it. Even so, the Children's Assessment Center in Houston estimates that there will be 500,000 babies born in the U.S. this year who will be sexually abused before they turn 18.

And yet, many adults doubt a child's accusations made against a relative, popular teacher, coach or religious leader. Research has consistently shown that few abusers are ever identified or incarcerated. Estimates suggest that only 3 percent of all cases of child sexual abuse, and only 12 percent of rapes involving children, are ever reported to police, according to data from the Leadership Council on Child Abuse and Interpersonal Violence. Relatively few accused offenders are ever investigated or charged.

There is a culture of denial toward the problem of child sexual abuse; most people don't want to believe children were victimized or that trusted adults abused them.

But this culture of denial extends beyond the realm of horrific felonies. Plenty of ordinary parents deny, ignore or rationalize our own less-than-stellar parenting moments. We might not physically take out our rage on our children, but maybe we vent our frustration by yelling in anger. We may not be cable TV-level stage moms, but maybe we put our children in a social media spotlight they haven't asked for.

If we are honest, most parents can find hints of Adrian Peterson's criminal overreaction or Mama June's deep well of denial within us.

It's infinitely easier to change the channel than confront that uncomfortable notion.

There are times when a foggy malaise can settle into a spot. Even when cracks of sunlight break through this vapor, a heaviness lingers.

Despite being a reporter -- a job where we're conditioned to notice and document what's wrong, unfair, tragic and broken -- I usually enjoy being a happy and positive person. But there has been so much striking and detailed pain on display in our world recently.

This summer, the gruesome images of the war in Gaza were soon joined by heartbreaking ones out of Ferguson. Couple this with the fact that my generation has entered that period of life when there's a steady stream of devastating personal news among our peers: Parents (or even children) die, alarming diagnoses are more common, and friends divorce.

We have been through cycles of tragedy, death and destruction before. But this prolonged dark period provoked a deeper anxiety in me. From the personal to the political, the onslaught of bad news has felt relentless.

It was in the midst of this run of gloominess that I decided to embark on a happiness project. Not happiness as in a constant state of chipper: Some of the most outwardly cheerful people I've known have been deeply unhappy inside. But happiness in the way that psychologists have defined it: the pleasure of feeling good; engagement in living a good life with family, friends, work and hobbies; and finding meaning in being able to use our strengths toward a greater purpose.

Is it possible to increase those pieces of happiness, thereby becoming happier?

There's an entire body of research that looks at ways to make people happier in life and work. I sifted through some of this positive psychology analysis and watched the most popular TED talk on the subject.

Positive psychology experts Shawn Achor and Michelle Gielan have written extensively about the habits that can train our brains to think more positively, which they argue leads to our brains making us feel happier. Scientists say there's a biochemical process at work: Positive emotions like love and joy release dopamine and serotonin into our brains. This biochemical wash helps our brain process new information, think more quickly and creatively, and connect better with others.

Achor and Gielan suggest that incorporating these five daily habits for as little as 21 days can make us happier:

1. Write down three unique and new things you are grateful for every day. This teaches the brain to scan for new, good things.

2. Spend a few minutes writing down in detail the most meaningful moment from your day. This allows you to relive what made it meaningful for you.

3. Praise or thank a different person in your social network every day, either by email or phone, for something specific. This will remind your brain of the support around you.

4. Exercise for 15 minutes a day. The effects can be as powerful as taking an antidepressant.

5. Take two minutes to meditate and breathe. Pay attention to your inhale and exhale. It will focus your attention and lower stress.

I tried to do all five habits and recorded my efforts daily for 21 days last month. I just kept a log in a note in my iPhone where I documented results at night. The only ones I did religiously for three weeks were listing three new gratitudes each day, describing the most meaningful moment and thanking a person for a specific act each day. The 15 minutes of exercise was hit or miss. I completely failed on the meditating. That was very challenging.

About a third of my meaningful moments were with my children. The rest were through interactions at work, with friends or with people who were essentially strangers. It was revealing to keep track of which moments actually moved me during the day.

And, the researchers were absolutely correct. While I was committed to this task, I became more attuned to the good things, no matter how small. I spent more minutes in my day contemplating the positive. I felt more grateful and engaged with people and connected to the meaning in my life.

A few times, I struggled to come up with a meaningful moment or a different person to thank. On the days I was very tired, it felt like a chore. But overall, I think it lifted my spirit in a way that had been missing for a while.

When things looked especially bleak, this happiness project was an antidote.

The only defense we have against the at-times overwhelming and random pain in this life is belligerent happiness.