Over the years, I have had the privilege of speaking to thousands of audiences in over 20 countries around the globe. One thing I have found to be consistent in all of these groups is that they seem to be made up of three kinds of leaders.

The first is a Drill Sergeant. These leaders love to give orders. They love to say, "It's my way or the highway." The collect cute little phrases like "If you want a friend, buy a dog. I am not here to be your wet nurse." Their style is dominant and demanding.

The second kind of leader is a "helicopter." These folks love to hover and protect. I married a helicopter style personality. In fact, I suspect it is the reason why we have remained married for 32 years; we are total opposites.

If you have been reading this column over the years, you know that I tend to be the dominant alpha male type, i.e. the drill sergeant. My bride, Christine, on the other hand, is a nurse by profession, a genuine female and protective mother type. She is a legitimate helicopter, protective of her children and much more patient than yours truly.

When my twin sons Cory and Jason were in elementary school, it always amused me as to how much attention that Christine would give them in terms of making sure they got their homework done. Since I was in the half of the class that made the top half possible, homework was not a particular concern to me.

Christine would not dare let them go to school with unfinished homework. What would the teacher think? What would the neighbors think if the little darlings went off to school and failed? Horrors!

Me, on the other hand… I do not even know the neighbors. They used to keep a picture of me on the back door with a note below it: "If a guy comes to the door and he looks like this- let him in." I was gone all the time when they were growing up, so largely herself left Christine to toil in the vineyards raising them.

My philosophy with my kids is "You will do what I tell you or else!" Or else what? What are the options here? They quickly determined that mom would correct their homework; so many times they would do it hastily, not worrying about the results. Mom will fix it.

When Christopher, my third son was born, I would have to help the twins with their homework. They would do it half-hearted and turn it in to me to review. Instead of correcting it, I would give it back to them. "That's not good enough," would be all I would say.

Kids are smart. They know that the person asking the questions in the interview process is the person who controls the interview. "What part isn't good enough dad? You won't do our homework for us. You don't love us!"

Do you know why I won't do their homework for them (other than the fact that I really can't do it)? It's because I DO LOVE THEM!

Was being a demanding drill sergeant right? Yes and no. Is being a loving, caring helicopter right? Yes and no. I think we have to have a little drill sergeant and a little helicopter in us. I have found that when kids least deserve it is when they need love the most.

The answer is to be a counselor or a coach. Coaches give people choices. When someone screws up, you let him or her choose, but you should also let him or her endure the consequence or benefit of the good or bad choice.