Parent Envy

COUPLING By Shawn Peters - The Boston Globe: "Not long ago, my daughter, Hazel, got a piece of sand in her eye and reacted with an anguish most people reserve for anesthesia-free oral surgery. My reaction? "I need light, Q-tips, and an industrial eyewash, stat!"

My wife, meantime, just started saying, "Blink, sweetie. Blink." Her voice turned sing-songy, and Hazel began to blink along with it, smiling as a tear rolled out of her eye, carrying the offending piece of sand with it.

Obviously, I was relieved Hazel was OK. But I was also annoyed – with myself. Why didn't I think of that? Why did I go for the ER solution when Sara knew that a Sesame Street approach would do better? I was jealous. And worse, it wasn't a new feeling.

I know: Couples should not be jealous, at least not of each other. Envying your soul mate just isn't soul-mateish. Besides, I tell myself, every relationship is a balancing act worthy of an entire troupe of circus performers. Individuals are supposed to have strengths and weaknesses, and if the cosmic tumblers on the combination lock of love are working right, those pros and cons are complementary in a couple. That way, the two people together really are more than the sum of their . . . well, than if they weren't a couple.

My wife and I are certainly made in that mode. I love cooking and can't stand doing dishes. She doesn't know turmeric from tarragon, but she doesn't mind scrubbing pots after a delicious dinner. I worry that every mole is malignant, each earache Ebola. She needs a body part to fall off before she calls her MD, and if that lost part is her dialing finger, she just might never make the call. Between the two of us, we manage to eat, to feed our child, and to find a middle ground where health is concerned.

So why am I jealous of my own wife? It started shortly after Hazel was born. Sara took to motherhood like Dick Clark took to plastic surgery. Everyone sees it.

"She is such a good mother" is one of the first comments I hear from relatives every time we visit. I always reply, "I know," and I do.

"She is a super mom," my friends and co-workers remark when they see how Sara effortlessly finds a thousand little ways to enrich Hazel's life. I know it's not effortless. She puts a ton of effort into it, and then she adds some more effort, just to make it look effortless.

And then there was the day when my own mother grinned and said wistfully, "You know, I was a good mother. But that Sara – she's a great mother." I felt like the Jan Brady of my own bunch, but instead of "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia," it was "Mama, Mama, Mama."

For all those years, I was jealous, and I thought I knew why. I thought it was because no one ever said those words about me. But then, a few weeks ago, my buddy Paul was in from LA, and, after watching me defuse an impending eruption of Mt. Hazel, he told me, "You know, you're a great dad. You're like my fathering role model."

I felt stupendous – for about a minute. Then it faded quicker than the career of the sixth-place finisher on American Idol. Those were the words I had been waiting to hear. Finally, someone was recognizing me. But there it was: the jealousy, still inside me. I knew Paul had caught me at a high point. I started thinking about how Sara, on a bad day, can shut out all the noises in the world except the sound of our daughter singing show tunes from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I thought about how she parents Hazel with the enthusiasm of a woman who knows her child will grow up strong and confident and smart not because of how much has been saved in her college fund but because of the huge sums of affection and attention she's been paid to date.

And that's when I realized that I wasn't jealous of Sara because everyone thinks she's a better parent. I'm jealous because she is better, and I know it.

Now, that doesn't mean for a second that I'm not pretty damn good myself. I'm Scottie Pippen. She's Michael Jordan. That's really not so bad. I am still a little jealous of my wife. But for now, I'll just have to enjoy being on a championship team. Even if I'm not the star.

Shawn Peters is a TV writer based in Holliston."