When we stop fighting what we don't know

It may just be a sentence. A few innocent words turned accomplish by their association with underwater fears. Something as simple as:

“I’d like to add another goal to Elias’s IEP.  I’d like to see him use more spontaneous speech patterns instead of repeating … to initiate conversation….”

The words grow more menacing, and pull from the deep, when echoed by a second therapist the next day:

“When asked what a cow says he answered moo but when asked who says moo he didn’t know …Elias seems to have a number of memorized phrases that he uses to communicate…. Echolalic…. similar to children with hydrocephalus or autism…”

And there it is. No longer hidden. Pulled to the surface. My fears dressed up in someone else’s words.

And forget the positive context. Forget the compassionate messengers. Forget all else said. Deficit blinds me. Deficient was all I could see.

Until two goats walk down Doris Street.

I just happen to be looking out the window when they walk past. “Elias, the goats are outside,” I say, assuming Laura—who we called the goat lady until we met her and learned her name-- is taking them for a walk. She lives on the corner of Doris and 33rd and pens her two pet goats in her backyard. The goats have lived here longer then we have and are both loved and hated by the neighbors. Elias LOOOOVES the goats so we regularly walk down to see them and to say: Baaah

When I realize they aren’t on leashes but just sauntering past on their own, I throw Elias in the stroller to run down and tell Laura. No car. No answer when I knock. I knock on her tenant’s door and apparently wake-up the young woman who shows no interest in helping me round up the goats but does give me Laura’s cell phone number. I reach Laura as she walks into a noon meeting, her car in the shop.  I tell her Elias and I will do what we can to round them up and she directs me to their leashes, telling me she owes me one.

I find the goats at the other end of our street eating brown grass on the side of the old blue apartments. I park Elias and walk towards them. Someone watches them from the basement window, she smiles at me as I approach with their leashes, then closes the curtain.

Clipping the leashes on their collars proves to be the easy part. Convincing them to leave their new “field” not so.  “Goats….goats….goats….” Elias giggles, as I tell Tiger and Rebecca—what else would you name pet goats?—that they are coming with me.

I pull.

They pull.

And we came to a standstill in the middle of the street.

A young couple drives slowly past, necks craned, careful to avoid hitting this spectacle, and park at a duplex a few houses down.  They ask me something about the goats and I say they aren’t mine, they escaped, and I’m just trying to get them to go back home. They chuckle, wave, and walk into their place.

“Walk… walk goats….” Elias announces as he kicks his legs and waves his arms, laughing with abandon.

The goats, either in on the humor or obeying Elias, begin to slowly walk towards home.  I push Elias in his stroller with my left hand while holding both leashes with my right. We can do this, I think to myself.

An SUV stops at the stop sign behind us; the driver rolls down the window and says: “Hi Tiger… Hi Rebecca,” as she holds her hand out towards them. The goats pull me backwards towards her car. She sweet talks them and asks me what they like to eat best. “They aren’t mine. I’m just trying to get them back in their pen,” I tell her. She smiles and says good luck before rolling her window up and driving away.

The larger of the two goats, aptly named Tiger, decides to make a getaway. When he puts his weight into pulling I can not get him to budge, so I park Elias and attach the smaller goat’s leash to his stroller so I can manhandle Tiger.  As I pull on Tiger’s leash, I hear the stroller wheels move on the gravel road.

I lunge for the stroller and stand in the middle of the street splayed.

Who the hell can help me? We know our neighbors on either side and yet I can’t knock on either door. Between Lupus and old age I can’t ask them to join this fight. It is me and the goats-- with Elias as my spectator, all giggles and “Goats…goats…walk goats!!!!!!”

Out of pity perhaps, Tiger cooperates, and both goats again walk in the desired direction. Again, I begin to think we can do it.  It’s possible. We make it all the way down the hill to their yard but when they see the pen they turn and bolt the other way, dragging me after them. I have no choice but to leave Elias next to the door to their pen, the one they broke through to escape, so I can hold one leash in each hand, and fight the goats head on, face to face.

Their leashes have plastic handles with buttons to control the length of the rope and since I can’t figure out how to lock them and the rope is longer than I want it to be, I wrap it around my hands a few times to pull the goats closer. Tiger’s legs also get wrapped up in the chord and for a moment I know either he is going to break a leg or I am going to lose a finger.  For a moment I’m scared that what began as an unexpected break from the norm will break me.

That the cost of fully living will be greater than I can bear.

“Help...” I say out loud from that place between laughter and tears, “Help….Help….” Not loud enough to be a true cry for help but loud enough for me to acknowledge that I am in no way in control of this situation.

I stop pulling.

And the goats follow me right into the pen--back home--as Elias looks on, all smiles.

Comments

[JenniferB]

What a day! and what a battle! I bet Elias thinks you hang the moon now. ;) Way to go, tough Momma!

[whirled_peas]

I believe everything happens for a reason - the timing of the struggle with these goats was impeccable.

I love your writing, by the way. Always makes me cry, and I can be a tough nut to crack sometimes.

[Sara]

Grin - what a story!

And yup, just let go and he'll get where he's going. Elias I mean.

(At about that age, folks started mentioning ADD in reference to Toby. You just don't know yet. Hold tight. Right now, we still think "maybe" re Toby and ADD, but probably not. But still, maybe.)

[jess]

a classic story
...and quite powerful in it's lesson.

[Mel]

Thanks for sharing!

[Jodi]

I can't tell you how much those goats remind me of my son. If I want him to do something, I have to make sure that he feels it was his idea. If I try to force him, he digs his heels in...the minute I "let go" of my expectations, my will, the more he is willing to do what needs to be done...sigh.

[thebgirl]

absolutely nothing to do with goats..

i have been reading you for a while now and just wanted to take a moment to say how much i admire you and your writing. I think you are incredibly strong and brave. Elias is absolutely adorable and so very lucky to have you as his mom.

b

ps, i hope this didn't come out sounding oogy, just one mom to another is all :)

[becci]

hahahaha, I wish I could have been there to help you;)

[Christy]

No, not ooogy, thebgirl,nice, very nice.

I too wish you were there Becci, and what i thought to myself later, after no one offered their help, is that no matter how connected we are, we still face most of our deepest struggles alone.

And yes, everything happens for a reason, and those goats are certainly metaphors, and what they taught me I will need to learn again and again.

[Ginna]

y'know, Lebo can be a bit goaty too sometimes in that way. as long as he thinks it was all his idea he's fine though. wish I could call you up but it's too late. but I'm thinking about you guys and the big yellow fellow (or the short big yellow fellow) today.

[Deidre]

You can add "goat rescuer" to your list of extraordinariness! I'm sorry about the IEP, I feel sucker punched for you. I think it is going to be so great for you guys to get away for the summer and leave all the labels, charts, appointments, and the endless "to do" list behind, and just bike. It's amazing how burning thighs force you to not think or worry about anything else but getting over the hill. Sending love and positive thoughts your way.
D

[Kyla]

Those are some wise goats, teaching priceless lessons. :)

[Bon]

i feel sucker punched for you too, with that IEP goal articulated...i guess you're there, living with those fears daily, but way out here i'm just hoping you get a break, counting, thinking it must be time. but the goats...oh, how you made me laugh in that awful, shrill "this ends well, right?" kind of way.

you will do this well, whatever it is you need to do for Elias. you wrangle goats, for god's sake. but i hope the break comes, and soon.

[Vicki Forman]

This was amazing. If you can wrangle goats you can do anything. But I think you know that....

[Kari]

I don't think I could have taken on goats. But I guess we learn what we can and cannot do unexpectedly.

[Mae Ann]

Hi Christy. You are doing some very powerful writing. And some very powerful sharing. I believe that your writing will prove to be a good sounding/grounding board for your thinking through so much. As always, I am listening, and so proud of what you do as a mama.
Mae Ann