You know all that advice in parenting books and magazines? I think it’s written in secret code, and only certain people are able to decipher it. These people are called “dads.”

I say this because the advice works just fine for my husband, Steve. But for some reason, I don't get it.

From the beginning, Steve and I both wanted to do everything right. When Kelly was born we bought books; we read magazines; we studied and prepared. But Steve wasn’t home the day all that information was put to the test. Kelly was just a toddler. She was in her room playing with Big Bird, and I needed to go to the grocery store. “Kelly,” I said sweetly, “mommy’s cupboards are bare, just like Old Mother Hubbard’s! We need to go buy some food.” There was no response. “Come on, honey,” I repeated, “it’s time to go.”

She still didn’t budge; she kept playing as if she hadn’t heard a word. That’s when I realized it was time to use the things I’d learned. Let’s see…in this situation…I should give her until the count of three. Right. And be sure to mention a consequence.

“Kelly,” I said firmly, “I’m going count to three, and I want you to come here.” I paused for a moment, then continued, “if you don’t come, I'm going to be VERY angry! ONE…honey, please come here, TWO…really, c’mon, TWO-AND-A-HALF…hey, stop fooling around, TWO AND THREE QUARTERS… right now, I mean it, TWO AND FIVE SIXTHS…”

When Steve got home, I couldn’t wait to report how the advice of the so-called “experts” had bombed. “Kelly completely disobeyed me today, so I counted to three. And guess what? It didn’t work!”

He studied me, frowning. “Did you tell her there would be a consequence?” he asked. “Yes,” I answered defiantly. “I told her I’d be VERY angry.”

“What kind of a consequence is THAT?” he demanded. “The consequence is supposed to be something specific, like a ‘time out’ in the corner!”

“That’s pretty harsh,” I said.

“Are you kidding? We’re talking about 60 seconds!”

“I know, but 60 seconds…that’s like a whole minute…”

“And you’re sure you counted to three?” he asked, continuing the interrogation.

Gee, I thought, why don’t you just bring out the truth serum and dental implements? “Yes!" I answered. "Well…I started to. I suppose if you want to get technical, I didn’t make it the whole entire way to three…”

Then he started talking in code, using terms like “clarifying expectations,” “maintaining consistency” and “specific consequences." He made it sounded sensible, practical, and easy.

Only it’s not. Even though Kelly’s older now, I have trouble. When Steve tells Kelly to clean her room, she does it. But I tell her, and she gives me a look that says, “yeah, right.” So I tell her again…and again…in fact, I tell her a whole bunch of times (Steve says the code word for this is “nagging”).

I asked Kelly, “why do you clean your room when dad tells you to?”

She answered, “because he means it!”

I keep trying. Today I tripped over Kelly’s backpack, which was lying in the entry way, even though I’ve told her a thousand times not to leave it there. Finally, I came up with a really specific consequence. Sure enough, she moved it! This time I knew Steve would be impressed.

I called him on his cell phone to brag. “Kelly left her backpack in the entry way…I told her to move it, and she did! She moved it right after I got so furious I threatened to yank her driving privileges for an entire year!”

“Does that make sense?” he asked.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said, calming down a little. “A year is a really long time.”

“That’s not what I mean. Does that make sense, considering she’s only TWELVE?”

I’m not giving up. I still have years of parenting ahead, and I believe that someday, somehow…I’ll crack the code.