As
anyone who has seen March of the Penguins knows, penguins are
pretty much the ideal parents of the animal world.
After
courtship and mating, both parents stick around until the egg is
laid, then the mother hands off the egg to the dad so she can journey
a long way back to the ocean for food to replenish the energy it took
to have the egg. While she is gone, the baby chick is born. Dad, who
is slowly starving to death by now, feeds it its first meal, and
waits for mom to come take over so he can go eat.
Somehow
she knows when to leave the ocean and trek back to feed the newborn
chick from the food she has stored in her body. Then Dad heads back
to the ocean until it is his turn again. They do this all season,
until the ice around them melts such that the ocean is close enough
for the chicks to learn to feed themselves.
Penguin
parents somehow know when it is time to take their turn for the
childcare; they somehow know exactly when to leave the ocean and walk
several days back to the exact spot they left their mate and chick.
They work as a perfectly synchronized pair, even when they are miles
away from each other.
Contrast
penguins with polar bears. Polar bears mate and the male leaves well
before the cubs are born. Good thing, too, since as a
top-of-the-food-chain predator, male polar bears see their offspring
as potential rivals and tend to kill and/or eat them.
The
mother polar bear must keep her children safe for about 2 ½
years, until they can fend for themselves. Sure, wolves are a
potential predator for the bear cubs, but the main threat is often
their father or any other males in the area.
We
would all like to be like penguin parents, I am sure — equally
sharing the duties, intuitively knowing what our offspring need and
when, putting their needs above our comfort. However, many parents
find they are forced to be a mama polar bear instead, protecting
their children from the other parent. (And, believe me, I know this
role can be filled by either gender).
I
first became concerned about this when I had only one child and she
was trying to assert herself more as she left babyhood and entered
childhood. My husband was starting to become more punitive, less
patient, even angry, taking her little defiances personally, like she
was rejecting him rather than rejecting the expectation for good or
safe behavior.
I
spoke to a friend of mine who had a couple of children already. Her
response was “well he is her father” as if that explained
everything — as if that meant I needed to stand by and let him
parent the way he wanted to, even if it was abusive.
But
I already knew how that story ended. This is pretty much the tack my
husband’s mother took, thinking it was what the Church expected
of her. My husband’s father raised his children in an
emotionally abusive atmosphere, making them feel stupid, taking their
disobedience as a personal affront rather than a natural process to
maturing, placing ridiculous expectations on them.
And,
for the most part, until she divorced him, my mother-in-law allowed
him to run the house this way. In part, she thought this was playing
the role of the righteous Mormon mother, supporting her husband the
way she should. It is an unfortunate side effect of the entire
situation that she has since left the Church, which she associates
with this type of abuse.
But
I am also well aware of the pitfalls inherent in constantly siding
with my children over my husband, and with taking over all the
parenting and thus wordlessly communicating to him that I don’t
think he is a good dad, and to my children that they shouldn’t
trust their father.
It
is often difficult to decide what to do. It seems that every day a
new situation arises, where I must make choices, finding the balance
between protecting my children and honoring my co-parent, without
undercutting him.
The
last thing I want is for my children to distrust their father. But,
when he is clearly wrong, and they know it — when he is acting
out of pure selfishness — it does not serve them for me to
support that; this teaches them they can’t trust me either.
Then what?
I
truly wish he never put me in this situation. I wish we could always
be penguin parents, who seamlessly switch off duties, who are each
willing to make sacrifices in turn, who never fight about what is
best for their child.
And
I know I have sometimes overreached my agency; I have sometimes made
mountains from molehills, I have sometimes undercut him.
But,
I do not regret the times I have stood my ground when he was consumed
with wanting a child to do things his way for no other reason than he
wanted to have control over the child. I don’t regret asking
him to leave the room and go take a break when it was clear his
emotions were mastering him and not the other way around.
And,
when I have been in the right, he always sees it later, when the red
is gone from his vision, and he agrees I made the right choice.
Because
at the end of the day, I know he loves our children as much as I do.
He just lacks some of the parenting skills I have. (And, it should be
fairly noted, he has some parenting skills in spades that I lack as
well.)
However,
I wish he could see how distorted his thinking was in the
moment. Sometimes I go all teenage-type angsty that I have to deal
with this, and bemoan the fact that it may never get all the way
better. But at least he is humble enough and righteous enough to see
afterward that what he did was wrong.
I
know there are many parents out there who are married to polar bears
that are always polar bears, and not just on occasion like my husband
is. In this way, I count myself lucky.
And
I truly pity those parents, because they have to make the really
tough choices. Stay or divorce? Fight this battle or let this one
slide so the family stays together another day, week, year? Which is
better for the children — today, tomorrow, in the future?
The
enormity of this deliberation is overwhelming to parents who truly
care about their children more than they do themselves. In talking to
parents who have been through this, it is apparent that only a strict
reliance on the Lord and earnestly seeking His guidance can help one
get through it.
And
though the choices I face (skirting the line between protecting my
children and honoring my husband) are somewhat less grave than the
deliberation to stay or divorce, I too only find peace about my
choices when they are made with the Spirit’s help and
confirmation.
I
know when I am operating with and not against the Spirit when I can
speak to my husband calmly instead of yelling, when I can hold my
tongue rather than speak out of my hurt, when I can tell my children
their daddy does love them, but he needs time alone right now, and
when I can say without bitterness that we should be patient with and
forgive him, as I set the example to do this.
We
may never be in perfect sync like a couple of penguins, but maybe we
can come closer to it than when we started.
Emily
Jorgensen received her bachelor's degree in piano performance from
Brigham Young University. She earned her master's degree in
elementary music education, also at BYU. She holds a Kodaly
certificate in choral education, as well as permanent certification
in piano from Music Teacher’s National Association.
She
has taught piano, solfege, and children’s music classes for 17
years in her own studio. She has also taught group piano classes at
BYU.
She
is an active adjudicator throughout the Wasatch Front and has served
in local, regional, and state positions Utah Music Teachers'
Association, as well as the Inspirations arts contest chair at
Freedom Academy.
She
gets a lot of her inspiration for her column by parenting her own
rambunctious four children, aged from “in diapers” to
“into Harry Potter.” She is still married to her high
school sweetheart and serves in her ward’s Primary.