“The Parent Trap”… I didn’t choose this title for my A2Politico column on parenting, and at first I wasn’t sure of it, as I definitely don’t feel trapped in my role as parent, a.k.a. “Mumma.” But then I realized it does fit, not so much in the “oh my gosh, I am trapped in a world full of background noises of Caillou, Mario Cart music, crying or endless calls of “Mumma??” … or trapped in diapers, carpooling/shuttling, whining, or 238 games of “Guess Who?”. I was trapped by my own amazing journey through pregnancy. Followed by that incredible birth experience and baby! Then I was trapped; She had me.

So now here I am, 14 years and six kids later—”trapped” in a life-long role as parent. Some days it does feel like a bait-and-switch, someone switched that sweet baby with an (at times) inconsiderate, moody teen, or switched my other sweet baby with a 5-year-old who is constantly testing out what flies with me and what totally does not. That cuddly, clingy preschooler has turned into a defiant “I’ll do it my way!” young girl, my last baby is no longer a baby, no more falling asleep on my lap, no more staying safely in one place on her blanket.

Some days the bait-and-switch is awesome. I find that the tiny baby I was trying so hard to have sleep through the night gives me a kiss, and a “Good night Mumma!” and off she goes. That shy toddler is an incredible almost-woman with so many interesting thoughts of her own, someone who is fun to have tea with and just “chat.'” How is it that the little boy who drew all over Grandma’s white carpet with a green marker is now the young man who helps the neighbor shovel every snowstorm (green marker not included)?

A lot of things in life we have no choice over, so we do feel trapped.  This is not the case with The Parent Trap. As hard as it is, we have so many choices as parents, sometimes too many, such as which classes to put our little ones in, to work or stay at home (for many not a choice), choices of whom to let our kids play with (again, sometimes not a choice!… sigh).  I’m thinking more about what kind of parents we choose to be.

I think as parents we owe it to our kids to be the ones to lead, to actually parent.

Some days I hate this. I’m the bad guy, the unpopular one, the one the kids detest for the moment. I try to temper the “bad guy,” the rule enforcer, with the cheerleader. We need to let our kids know we are their #1 fans. That, to me, is the perfect mix. I think great parenting is a lot like great coaching (here’s a shout out to AAAHA Coach Mike Sullivan who coached my son in Mite hockey [7-year-olds]). When the boys made a bad move or a wrong play/mistake, Sullivan would take them off the ice and tell them what they’d done, and how to change it.

Simple, right? Immediate intervention, coupled with calm instruction. I know what you’re thinking. I’m thinking it, as well: It is so much easier to just lecture our kids and let it go at that. Yell up the stairs and be done with it.

Now, think of that parent at the park, (the grocery store, mall, or museum will work just as well as sample locations) the one you so don’t want to be….you know, the one who weakly calls (then yells) at his/her misbehaving child:

“Johnny… stop throwing sand. Johnny, stop throwing sand.” (“Johnny put back the candy. Johnny, don’t touch the Mona Lisa.”)

Of course, Johnny continues on undeterred.

These parents never, never get off their butts, pick up Johnny, and take him out of the proverbial sandbox.

The solution, in reality, is simple: The parent gets up, has Johnny apologize (may not work at the Louvre, but give it a try), takes Johnny away from the problem area, tells him what he was doing wrong and why it was wrong, then gives him something else to do.

You’re saying: “Of course! How obvious!” But how many of us don’t do it consistently (me included)? We have good books to read, work to do, dinner to burn (or preferably not), an excellent friend on the phone. However, we owe it to our kids to do it. We owe it to our friends and neighbors to do it. We owe it to complete strangers to do it. We owe it to society to get off our butts, intervene, and parent our children.

It took me a little longer to write this piece than I’d originally intended. Just as I was about to end it, instead of screaming (my first impulse!) up the stairs at my son not to bother his little sisters, I had to stop writing. I hauled my own butt upstairs, found out the true offense, and let my son know how ridiculous it is to pester a two- and seven-year-old. Then, I suggested something else for him to do, which included the offer of, perhaps, some light cleaning?!?

So, “The Parent Trap”… yep, it seems like a trap some days, but more than a trap, it’s a job many of us have entered into happily and willingly. Might as well make the best of it and not fight against the trap. And the outcome?

Awesome.

Betsy McMillin has called Ann Arbor home for 20 years. It’s where she and her husband are currently raising their kids, ages 2 to 14.  In addition to the six kids, she holds three degrees from Eastern Michigan University, one each in Elementary Education, Special Education and Early Childhood Education. Her hobbies (as of the past 14 years) include kids, laundry, cooking, diapers and breastfeeding. Betsy will be writing for A2Politico about parenting. She has about a million ideas for columns (assuming she and A2Politico make it to the year 2200), and will answer parenting questions from readers. Email parenting questions to: parenttrap@A2Politico.com.