I'm sure that anyone over the age of 30 has similar memories of his or her youth. But many of my fellow baby boomers, especially ones in places like Beverly Hills, Calif., and the Upper East Side of New York, choose not to offer the same carefree life to their own children. Instead, they pre-program their babies to become committed, serious, hypereducated individuals. By the age of 5, these kids have to say goodbye to Barney. For them, playtime is over.

I know this -- intimately -- because I am a personal home tutor in the Los Angeles area, serving clients in Brentwood and Beverly Hills. I work with children of all ages, but primarily 3-to-5-year-olds whose parents want them prepared to test into prestigious private schools. At an age when the word "competition" should not even be in their vocabulary, these children are forced to go in front of a panel of school officials and perform tasks such as putting blocks into the correct holes and writing the alphabet and numbers.

This may not seem like such a difficult assignment, but the performance of these kids during that moment of testing will determine whether they get into a chosen school. Children are moody, their behavior is unpredictable, and if they experience a temporary mind blank on the day of the test, their parents believe that their baby scholars will have to say bye-bye to the Ivy League. The parents will do almost anything to avoid this fate.

That's where I come in.

Every mother and father of a 4-year-old knows that their child has developed some independence and has mastered the concept of the word "no." So when it comes to dragging their kid away from a favorite Disney video to teach them how to write their name, the child throwing a tantrum all the while, it helps to make it someone else's fault. Children are smart. They know the difference between Mommy and teacher, and to them, these differences are black and white. The parents don't want to be the bad guys, so they hire me to drill their kids for private school.

The first time I accepted an assignment as a tutor for a 3-year-old, I couldn't imagine what the parent expected from me. I was used to tutoring older children who needed help with homework and projects. What could I teach a 3-year-old that "Sesame Street" couldn't? Hiring someone to teach a child the alphabet seemed absolutely ludicrous.

The moment I arrived, the mother handed me a list of what was expected of a child entering kindergarten at several of the private schools in the Los Angeles area. I was bewildered, even though we had two years to prepare. The first few times I met with the child, she couldn't stay still long enough for me to tell her my name. Finally, after several weeks, she would sit for me and we would recite our ABCs. As I was struggling and slowly losing my patience, the mother was at the salon getting a manicure or her hair dyed.

It usually takes a session or two for a child to trust me. I try to make our time together as fun as possible, but the kids eventually catch on. At first, I become their best friend, their playmate, and they cannot wait until our next meeting. Then, when we have to get serious, I become their adversary. They realize I am not there to play with them. They understand there is an ulterior motive. I can usually tell when we have reached this stage because they scream and hide when they see me coming, yelling, "No, Mommy, no!" This is when the fun stops and the work begins. This is also when I have to deal more closely with the parents.

My clients are typically successful professionals -- doctors, lawyers and studio executives -- who begin networking just after the birth of their children, planning the children's academic future as though they were conducting a business deal. They enroll them in notable preschools and fill up their schedules with as many extracurricular activities as time allows. These children take computer classes, early reading classes, early math -- all beginning at age 3 -- in order to crush the competition when it comes time for kindergarten.

The parents also schmooze with the parents of students already enrolled in the schools of their choice, and sometimes they even try to befriend the faculty. They will do whatever it takes to make the proper connections. It's an interesting process that lacks sincerity and rarely leads to friendship. Mostly these bonds are formed around gossip sessions about other parents, proving, once again, that competition breeds contempt.

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