I’m not sure who in my family looks forward to Halloween more – me or my children. And as with so many parenting issues, my response to this harebrained holiday (if you can even call it a holiday) is most certainly rooted in my own childhood memories.

Each year, my mother and I would make my Halloween costume from scratch. We would go to the basement of our building, select a large cardboard box that was in good condition, and drag it upstairs to the kitchen. One year I was a box of Philadelphia Cream Cheese. The next, a pack of Wrigley’s Spearmint Chewing Gum.

There in the kitchen my mother, whose artistic talents, on a scale of 1-10, hovered somewhere between one and two, would cut holes in the box for my head and arms to poke through. We would spread newspaper on the floor and paint the box a base color – silver in the case of the cream cheese, pale green for the gum. The next night, and the next night, and even the night after that, we would carefully paint on additional details, stencil the letters, and finish our creation.

Another year I was a bunch of grapes. My mother found a dark green leotard and tights, and helped me blow up a few dozen purple balloons, which she safety-pinned to my clothes. Another year she found a struggling artist to paint the bones of a skeleton onto a black leotard and tights. I stood still on the kitchen table for at least two hours as he painted my femurs, ribs, and toes.

So it’s with my head held in shame that I confess to having purchased every single costume my children have ever worn for Halloween. Spiderman and Superman, Shrek and a pirate, a ballerina, and as long as I am confessing, a large purple-and-green dinosaur – you know who I’m talking about.

Of course my kids don’t know better, but I do. And my own personal shift toward the commercialization of Halloween reflects a larger shift that this country has made in full swing.

According to the National Retail Federation, Halloween is the country’s second-largest retail holiday, with total retail sales in 2003 surpassing $7 billion, up from $2.5 billion in 1997. It’s hard to believe, but $2 billion of that was spent on candy alone. Consumer spending during the Halloween season is second only to Christmas.

Halloween has become the third largest party night, right behind New Year’s Eve and Super Bowl Sunday, further proof that the growth in Halloween has little to do with our children, and far more to do with our own desires to relive our childhood fantasies.

Personally, I could skip the evening costume party in a heartbeat. For me, the pleasures of Halloween have more to do with the specific checklist of activities that I will complete with my children. And since my own artistic talents don’t fall far from the tree, I am relieved that these activities are not only manageable, but tailor-made for success.

Take the kids to a pumpkin patch? I can do that. Carve a pumpkin? I can do that, too. I can even make a scary jacko-lantern. Roast pumpkin seeds – definitely within my rather limited culinary capabilities.

Even purchasing costumes that have been chosen with care – they may not be homemade, but that doesn’t take away from the look of delight that spreads across the face of a 4-year-old as he looks at himself in the mirror and sees Batman in the reflection.

Veteran New Yorkers know all about the importance of taking your children to a “good” Halloween building. In a rare reversal of New York real estate hierarchy, on Halloween it is important to avoid swanky co-ops on Park and Fifth avenues with one or two apartments on each floor.

Not only does the small number of apartments reduce the amount of collectable candy, but chances are slim that residents in these fine establishments are going to want their doorbell rung 250 times during the early evening hours. Some thoughtful matriarch might leave a dish of candy outside her door with a sign instructing visitors to take only one piece, but that is a far cry from the pleasure of having your child’s “trick or treat” met with an actual person, holding an actual bowl of goodies, and maybe even some scary outfit or decoration to add to the excitement.

The most worthwhile Halloween buildings on my family’s trick-or-treat route are typically those upscale rentals that line Third Avenue and East End, where apartments A through N are filled with young families celebrating the holiday themselves. There you can count on loads of decorations, friendly doormen, and plenty of other children walking down the back staircase shouting about who has the most candy.

And to think that I’ve written all about the vicarious adult pleasures of Halloween without mentioning just how much I look forward to the mini Almond Joys and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. No wonder I’m so concerned about making sure my children go to the right kind of Halloween building.

Readers can address their parenting questions to Ms. Berman at sberman@nysun.com.