A popular co-parent can be a real bane.
WHAT are you staring at?” my husband enquired as our 10-month-old son, Pavan, squealed in delight and scrambled over to him, positively ignoring me, who had just arrived after a long day at work.
Creasing my forehead, I felt the heat of annoyance in my brain. Hmm, did I become invisible, I silently wondered. Narrowing my eyes and pushing aside the gnawing displeasure, I lamely attempted to attract the little one’s attention.
The master of the house merely threw me a pitying glance and continued coo-ing and aah-ing at his dad.
I’d been snubbed.
Sensing the rising tension, the smug dad turned to me and rubbed it in: “Look, mummy is jealous.”
To “save face”, I vehemently denied the accusation and proceeded to distract myself with other household chores that didn’t vex me as much as taking care of Pavan. The audacity!
It’s true his eyes light up the moment he sees me, and that he reserves a special smile for me (though Dad always manages to extract more from the cute guy).
However, it’s pretty obvious who the tiny fella believes is the fun parent. And, I’d be lying if I say that doesn’t hurt my ego and feelings.
Well, I did carry him around in my belly for nine months, undergo the whole agonising process of childbirth, breastfeed and care for him every night when he entered the world as an innocent soul. The least he could do is show that Mummy is his most favourite person in the whole wide world.
It turns out that’s not the case.
While my daughter Sanyuktha is more tactful in dealing with this parental jealousy, especially when she needs something from me (“I love you so much, ma. I don’t like appa very much”), the little one spares no effort to refrain himself. He openly expresses his infant infatuation (alright, love then) for his Dad and breaks my heart.
To him, Mummy means boring, routine stuff. Throw in a bit of scoldings, too, and you get the whole picture.
On the other hand, Daddy means getting to go out for a drive, playing fun games and getting pampered. The moment the father takes a shower and changes clothes, Pavan will be jumping up and down, asking to be carried and taken out for a walk.
Fully aware I’m registering his antics while pretending to be busy, my husband will smile and give me a peck on the cheek. “You’re not a bad mum.” As if that is going to assure me.
If I’m one of those who turns to Google for a solution, wikiHow has a five-step remedy for this. I’m supposed to smile, offer rewards, play, joke around a bit and bring out the junk (as in junk food) and voila, I’ll be transformed into a more endearing being to my kids.
It also comes with a warning: Don’t be pushy. And, there’s another method on eHow on “How to be a Fun Parent” that comes with detailed instructions.
The fact that I’m actually considering all these tells that I need a whole new perspective. As evident from the amount of blogposts found on the Internet, plenty of mums feel they are not the fun parent and have accepted it. And, I love the way they justify their stance.
One blogger mum says she believes her kids will value the stability that she offers through the routine things. Also, she claims she could be the calm from the crazy and the anchor to the (relation)ship.
However, I found my answer in another article by CNN called “Why mums get jealous when dad bond with kids”.
According to the writer, for some mums (me included), “what hurts is a deep-seated notion that we should be better parents than our spouses – more instinctive, more inventive, more in tune with our kids’ needs.” This is also linked to the age-old notion that women are the primary caretakers which is still being conveyed through many platforms, although these days, dads play an equally important role in raising the kids.
In Malaysia, things may be still improving (a friend of mine says some fathers are still steadfast in retaining the macho position while dumping the whole parenting shebang to mothers), I definitely feel fathers are more willing to change diapers or feed the baby, and actively participate in the glorious job of bringing up children.
So, let’s be grateful, I’m told. Gone are the days when you whine and complain that you need extra help with the kids. You get it without asking and what do you do? You get jealous, sheesh.
Truth be told, I’m really thankful that my better half is an amazing parent and that I can totally trust him to care for our children if I have to stay back at the office or be away on work-related matters.
I never worry whether they get proper meals, or are safe and sound without me around. This is a huge thing to have: peace of mind, I mean.
And, I really appreciate it.
In the article, one parent shares that respect is the best cure she has found for parental jealousy.
“Just to glory in your husband’s abilities as a dad is key,” she says.
OK. I can do that. Why not? Now, if only he’d quit smirking and control his sometimes inflated head.
> The writer grits her teeth and tries to watch and learn. Reader response can be directed to star2@thestar.com.my
Limited time offer:
Just RM5 per month.
