March of the Penguins

I never wanted to visit Antarctica until today. I sat in the movie theatre in awe watching what I thought at first were very tall creatures, only to find out, after the credits, they are only knee high. What an incredible story of survival. I loved watching them walk single file through the harshest of weather conditions. I loved watching them find a mate and bond, even if it was just for one year. I loved how they carry their young on the tops of their feet to protect them from the elements. But I especially love how the male penguin carries the egg while mom walks to find food. That's my kind of guy. They were constantly sharing the responsiblities of bringing a life into this world. That's how it should be. I'm blessed. I found a guy who wasn't afraid to change diapers, or to have baby spit up end up in his mouth. I found a guy who didn't mind that I took off for a week's vacation in Hawaii with some girl friends, and left him to care for two kids...one being just 6 months old. I figured I birthed the baby...I needed a break. Looking back, I was really doing the "penguin" thing. Going off for some rest and letting dad take over for awhile.

I've had a few penguin role models in my life. In fact, my teachers were penquins. At least that's what we called them in Catholic school. Sister Mary Clarence was the best role model. She was tall and lanky, ruddy skin, buck teeth and spit when she talked. She wore all black and white. She even waddled. And because I lived only 5 houses away from the convent and the school, I could see the nuns line up and waddle in formation back and forth to school and church. Sometimes they took walks in our neighborhood. Always in pairs....just like in the movie.