I remember the kind of mother I thought I’d be before I actually had a kid.  I was going to be the kind of mother who put the ix-nay on processed foods, video games and television. I wouldn’t allow my child to watch any violent or inappropriate movies.  And I would never, ever resort to bribery.

As my pal Jennifer puts it, “I was such a good Mom before I had kids.”  Me, too, friend.  Me, too.  Because my child eats plenty of processed foods, usually in the shape of a Disney character.  His Leapster is almost as loved as his portable DVD player.  At this very moment?  We’re watching old “Transformers” cartoons so I can get some work done.  And as for bribery?  Well, it’s a parenting trick that I use much more often than I care to admit.

Especially when traveling.

It started innocently enough.  I thought of it as a simple bartering system.  “Chet, if you are a good boy at the museum, we’ll hit the playground next!”  “Chet, if you get back in your stroller, I’ll get you some french fries.”  “Chet?  You need to get down from there right now.  If you don’t, we won’t go to the aquarium tomorrow.”

If I’m being honest, I know it’s bribery, pure and simple.  I give him something he wants to get something I want.  It works.

Take a recent weekend in Bodrum, Turkey.  Chet, now 4, has an imagination that often runs away with him – and can cause him to miss out on some really fun stuff.

My formerly fearless child’s new favorite word is “scary.”  And with that change, I’ve now seen a boy that was fascinated with ocean waves washing over feet become a strictly pool kind of guy.  The ocean is too big, too wide, too scary.  Even when I suggest that he and I go into the sea together, Chet sets his jaw and says, “No, Mommy.  I swim in the pool.”

On one morning in Bodrum, we took a boat out around the rocky coves.  After checking out some incredible scenery, our pilot took us to a perfect little inlet for swimming.  The water was a perfect turquoise and clear enough to see the bottom.  And the temperature?  Absolutely perfect.  The resort swimming pool had nothing on this spot.  Certainly my boy wouldn’t be able to resist it.

But Chet refused to go in.  Even after his Dad and I jumped overboard, he shook his head and said, “No, Mommy.  I swim later in the pool.”

I couldn’t have it.  My son couldn’t miss a swim in this unique and beautiful place.  So I resorted to the only thing I could think of (you know, barring just tossing him off the boat and dealing with the therapy bills later):  sordid, dirty bribery.

“Chet?  You know that CARS lollipop in the shop?  If you come swimming now, I’ll buy it for you when we get back.  All you have to do is come in and try it,” I called to him.  “If you don’t like it, you can get right back on the boat.”

It was a large, oversized Chupa Chup that had been tossed in a box that had once held CARS-themed Pez dispensers.  Chet had been coveting it for days.  I wondered who the hell at Chupa Chup thought that a lollipop the size of a doll’s head was in anyone’s best interest.  But so my son wouldn’t miss this experience, I was willing to throw it in the pot.

Chet thought about it for a moment, checking out the expanse of blue before him as he considered whether the risk was worth the reward.  But a moment later he said, “Okay, Mommy.  I want the red lollipop,” and climbed down into the Aegean.  We swam and splashed until we exhausted ourselves.

He loved it.  Almost as much as that huge, overpriced lollipop I got for him once we returned to shore.

And it’s an exchange I would be more than happy to make again.

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