The Von Trapp School of Child Management

I was in the library the other day and Maddy bolted. I softly snapped my fingers and she stopped dead in her tracks. I snapped again (and shot her a pretty potent dose of mama-glare) and she turned tail and came straight back to my side. Those around us watched this play out with mirth, though a few stopped to stare at me. Really? You’re staring at me for snapping? Cause I gotta tell you, the alternative would be yelling and I guarantee you’d be starting then.

Besides, if you think the snapping thing is bad, you should see me someplace that’s noisy. Like the park. Or my living room. Then, snapping just doesn’t cut it. Then I whistle.

This also garners stares. And, at times, flat out laughter. But it should be noted that as with the snapping, the whistling is highly effective at rounding up my littles. They hear my distinctively lyrical whistle – think Gandalf calling Shadowfax opposed to Lassie come home – and the troops come running.

The trick to effective whistling as a form of child management seems to lie in developing an upbeat-sounding whistle. Mine, for example, starts out sounding urgent but finishes with an optimistic trill.

And of course it also helps that the whistle can result in either reward or reprimand. I mean, when was the last time a yell meant a kid was getting called to dinner or had earned a special treat? No wonder they don’t rush to our side when we holler at them! (Not that this stops me from yelling. I’m just saying…) I use the same whistle for rewards or reprimands, so the kids don’t know what they’re gonna get until they show up. And (somewhat surprisingly) they always show up. I guess the curiosity kills them.

I haven’t gone all Christopher Plummer on them and developed distinct whistles for each of them, but who knows? Maybe that’s next.

Whatever gets them into a straight line.