A Bit of Magic

The universe sends a message - maybe

I cannot decide if I really believe what I’m about to write. Maybe you won’t believe any of it, and I will not blame you. As I said, the rational part of my brain thinks this is wishful nonsense, so I sort of agree. But at the time, it really did feel like some magic. Goose magic. Yes, I actually typed those words.

We have been having a rough few weeks with Declan. This happens from time-to-time where for reasons we will never understand he goes off the rails a bit. It’s been stressful and upsetting as he is angry, upset, aggressive, emotional, basically take your pick of a not-great adjective. The dreaded daily school emails has reflected this as well, and he’s basically in a bad mood the second he gets home from school. It’s less than fun.

The past few days, Caryn has been taking some well-deserved time away skiing with her sister, while I (poorly) attempt to hold down the fort. I think I’ve mentioned previously on this site, given Declan’s struggles and their varied interests and stubbornness, it’s rare that either Caryn or I attempt to take care of both boys at once by ourselves (with the exception of bed times). We have a platoon of helpers and sitters, and neighbors, and friends who we use to try and lessen the burden. However on Thursday, none of those folks were available, and I also sometimes feel its a good idea to try and tackle that specific challenge of wrangling both boys just to know I can do it. Simple reality is that there are going to be times when we don’t have any help, so it’s nice to know I have that card to play when it’s necessary, especially when it’s just a few hours after school. Unfortunately Declan’s current mood raises the degree of difficulty a bit.

It began poorly, with him upset and acting out because we weren’t catering to his demands. I couldn’t even convince him to come outside and play with Sunny the dog as Rory and I chased her around the yard. But we needed stuff at the grocery store, which meant some time with his beloved Marty though there was too much time to fill for that to be the only activity. I convinced him (and Rory, who doesn’t have much interest in Marty) that we could go to the store, but only after we went to a local playground for awhile because it was a nice day.

When Declan is having a stretch of rough behavior, it becomes pretty easy to feel bad about myself and to question whether we are doing something wrong. More than that, it’s just frustrating, and emotional, and mentally exhausting. Though it’s certainly not the only factor, we have a pretty good idea that he responds to our energy and emotions, so staying even-keeled with him is always the goal, but it’s a struggle when he’s seemingly upset all the time. My positivity reservoir gets shallow pretty quickly, and it’s hard to refill.

The playground began about as well as things did at home, with Declan being miserable, though fortunately Rory was being fairly accommodating. We ran into a neighbor friend which helped for a bit, and then in a somewhat inspired bit of parenting I convinced Rory to play “tag” with me, because one thing Declan always seems to like watching is people chasing each other. For a few minutes we found some success with him following us around as Rory and I scampered over equipment and up-and-down slides, trying to catch each other. Bouncing back-and-forth between both boys, I managed to keep everyone happy, or at least content for probably 15 minutes. Until I screwed up.

I’m not sure if it was because of how Declan has been acting, or the mystery of the magic that came my way I’m about to describe, but I was in my head a lot later that evening. It was a “I’m questioning everything” kind of evening, to the point where I nearly texted a friend of mine the question, “am I a good person?” I didn’t, which I’m sure my friend is grateful for (maybe I proved my good person bona fides by not needlessly bothering my friend), but it was that sort of evening for me where I was kicking around my failures and successes, my flaws and strengths. Maybe not the healthiest, or most fun way to spend an evening, but that was my way of trying to make sense of what happened.

Back to the playground, I was doing my best to keep both boys entertained, though I could sense Declan’s patience was starting to wear thin. After helping Rory navigate some monkey bars, Declan indicated he wanted to try too, though when I lifted him up to assist, he said “no” and returned to requesting Marty, but I had him stick with it…which is when I misjudged the angle and slammed his head against the metal bar. He responded as you would expect, and began scream-crying, and at that moment, after I finally had him in a reasonably happy state only to blow it, I felt like there was no one on earth worse at this whole thing than I was. Then I got a different message.

I have written previously of my fondness for the television show The Good Place and how it inspired some of my specific efforts to do good things. One topic the show tackled I found particularly interesting is the concept of moral dessert. Smarter people than I can explain it better, but essentially its the notion that we often feel like we should somehow be rewarded for doing the right thing — for making ethical choices. That there should be some greater reward that comes to us for good behavior than just our own sense of self-worth. Reality is that most of the time, there is no reward beyond your own good feelings, which is one of the reasons making ethical choices or attempting to be a good person can be so hard. Because you likely aren’t going to be rewarded for it. At least not very often. Or maybe you just have to look a little harder for the rewards.

As I’m holding a screaming Declan, and feeling like a complete moron and failure, that little bit of magic happens. No more than 10 seconds after I hit his head, a flock of 30 geese flew directly over the playground. For reasons we cannot explain, and certainly don’t understand, the only thing Declan loves more than autonomous store robots are geese. We don’t really know when or why this obsession began, but you put that kid in a park with a bunch of geese and he will be occupied for hours. So the fact that, at that moment with him crying and me feeling like a dope, I could say, “Declan look up,” as the geese flew by was magical. Even more magical was when they circled and came down in the field right next to the playground. This gave us another 10 minutes of entertainment as I let him walk over and chase them while I stayed with Rory on the playground. My colossal unforced error was saved, and even though they drove me crazy at the store as Rory kept crashing the cart into things and Declan hit me when I made him leave Marty, those geese helped turn a bad moment into good.

Now we get to the contradiction. My head knows nothing I did brought those geese to the playground and field at that moment. That’s nonsense. But my heart…my heart wants to give myself that credit and be grateful for it. Actually I’m grateful for it either way.

But really, I’m sure it’s a coincidence, or luck, or the fact that there are several ponds near that playground. That’s the rational explanation. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s something bigger than that. If moral dessert does exist, I don’t think it’s anything huge or earth shattering. There’s no flashing neon sign. I think it’s things like a flock of geese flying overhead when you desperately need something to go your way, and maybe that is the universe’s way of saying “we see you buddy, we know you’re trying your best to get this right.” Whatever it was, those geese really came through for me when I needed them. Which is not a sentence I ever expected to type in my life. And maybe, just maybe, something else came through for me as well, because damnit whether this makes me a good person or not, I’m doing my best to get this right. It’s nice to feel like someone or something out there took notice.