I know a number of parent, Moms mostly (but Dads are not excluded), who feel a need to direct and re-direct every move of their children. The resulting chaos can sound much like a sitcom: highly entertaining, sometimes funny as hell. The only things missing are proper lighting and a laugh track. It often goes something like this:

“Jimmy, honey, that goes in the blue folder, not the green one.” “No, sweetie, not before dinner. Have some celery.” (phone rings) “ “Chloe, put that down and get back to your homework, please” “So, what’s going on? Hold on” “Why don’t you do your Math first, okay buddy?” “No honey, you can’t wear that to Grandma’s.” “Can I call you back?” “Not in the living room, Chloe.” “Jimmy, Jimmy, can you help her tie her shoes?” “No, those shoes over there. To the right. To the right!!”

And so the one-woman show goes, an exhausting, day-long monologue. For some reason, I find these houses fun to visit, an invitation to be on-set. The pace is frenetic, the dialogue tight, the comedic value undeniable. As good, if not better, than HBO.

Now, I know the moms of whom I speak, and I know their intentions are all good. They want, I believe, to drive their children toward positive behaviors: I the parent will delineate the correct behavior, CONSTANTLY, and in good time you the child will get it, hopefully before you’re off to college. If need be, though, the monologue can continue then as well.

And as my laughter dies down, and I can breathe for a moment, I find something unsettling in this familiar familial scene. See, I have just spent the last year of my life developing the concept of Availability, especially as it involves parenting, so I have to ask myself in almost all such situations: Is this Available Parenting?

Well, certain indicators are there. The mood is light. The affect is loving. The intentions are certainly good.

But something is definitely missing. Where, for instance, is the wide berth for the child? Where is there room for trial-and-error, for real world consequences to real-life actions? If Mom and/or Dad are forever providing the entire context for each decision, if they are in fact making each decision, then I am not at all sure how a child can possibly establish a sense of competence of his own. Now, if you re-read the example above, you can see without doubt that Mom herself is competent, capable of good decision-making. She can make several in the course of seconds. It’s actually quite a feat to make all of the decisions for two, three, even four people all at the same time.

But these over-working, over-bearing, over-doing parents needlessly complicate their own lives and jobs. No wonder so many of them tell me how exhausted they are, how they just want to disappear to the Bahamas, leaving all kids and noise behind. Air traffic controllers, masters of chaos and multi-tasking, are required by the FAA to take lots of breaks, and several weeks of vacation a year. Too many balls to keep up in the air all at once, so the breaks, it is argued, sustain sanity. But what of these parents?

They get no breaks. They allow themselves no time off, not a moment. They burn themselves out on parenting. I talked with a Mom of three young kids recently, expressing her relief at the recent economic downturn: “Now I have an excuse to go back to work!”

Yes, these unintentionally overbearing parents tire of their children, and eventually they just want to get as far away as possible. These are also the parents who find themselves apologizing for the behavior of their children to other adults. That’s right. All of that exerted control, and the kids don’t follow suit. It’s a function of the old adage: Create more rules, and you create more rule-breakers.

It’s one of life’s ultimate paradoxes: Work too hard in your parenting, and your parenting will become less effective, sometimes counterproductive and, by the way, far less fun.

And what about the kids? Well, the children are stifled. They are ever-unsure of what is expected of them, and they are even less sure of themselves when outside shouting range of their parents.

They cannot hear their own voices above the noise.

Now, I know that none of us want this type of dynamic for our children, regardless of their age. My book is directed towards parents of teenagers, but many proofreaders and editors have suggested that the concepts are relevant for parents of children at any age. On reflection, and the visit to too many makeshift sitcom sets, I find that I agree wholeheartedly.

To be clear, the earlier we practice Availability with our children, the more effective we will be as parents. True parental Availability is the only way to foster competence and resilience in our children, to instill in them a deeply felt sense of empowerment. The earlier we start, the better off we are as parents, families and, especially, children.

So allow your child his voice. Take more deep breaths. Use fewer words. Remain available, without taking over. It might seem like a tightrope walk, but with practice, you’ll find that it is not. Once you feel the results of Available parenting, once you see the confidence in your child, you will find that parenting any other way feels unnatural.

In returning his voice to your child, in forfeiting that vicarious life, you can more clearly begin to re-listen to your own voice.

You’ll be amazed how in control it feels to relinquish control.