Hello chaos - or what parenthood has to do with physics

Sometimes I would like to know more about physics. The other day, for example, when I came home in the evening and found imminent chaos. There was the older daughter, sweeping around so excitedly as if she could carry her test from the next day into the future. There was the youngest, who wanted to show me his latest craft - a ship - both loudly and immediately.

And there was a depressed middle child sneaking around, complaining not only about the noise but also about a headache. My husband, in the middle of it all, kept the dinner from boiling over. He didn't have the time to do the same with the family atmosphere.

I came home, my nerves still fresh after a day away. Family fresh, anyway, which facilitated a miraculous tripartition of myself.

Now physics would be practical here in several ways, even beyond boiling points. You could explain the tilted position of the ship to your son expertly. In other words, differently than I did later. Nor would it be necessary to leave children helplessly to «induction or something», the subject of my daughter's test. Only when it came to transporting the date into the future would nothing be possible. But there are other reasons why I miss a scientific background. I'll come back to that.

But first I came home, my nerves still fresh after a day away. Family fresh, anyway, which at least made it easier for me to miraculously divide myself into three. So I gently embraced the «headache child» and dug out the peppermint oil. At the same time, I reassured the learning-stricken child with the prospect of online tutoring and the realisation that a «dropout» is not the end of the world, despite everything. And next to it, with undivided attention, I followed a shaky maiden voyage in the bathtub.

The physics moment

A remarkable thing happened: calm spread through the still bubbling vat of a family evening. And there it was: one of those physics moments. Because I immediately realised what had worked - because things often don't work out. Or it turns into the opposite, even with half-fresh nerves. A thoughtless «Quiet, everyone!» when I got home and I could easily have become a butterfly that evening, flapping its wings in the front door and causing tornadoes in the children's rooms.

So I know, without any theory, how effortlessly you can slip into chaos. But the other way round? Exactly. But with a sound knowledge of the opaque mechanisms of complex dynamic (family) systems and their initial conditions ... who knows? Add to that an understanding of the formulae behind them and you could easily stabilise the system. Or certainly more often. That's what I imagine at times like this.

But while I was still watching the ship capsize and ignorantly thinking about formulas, I realised something else: this successful evening was the wrong time to regret how often the «system» derails - and that I don't know how to prevent it. So now I silently cheered to myself and celebrated the coincidence. I could also think more about butterflies in future, I decided. And I almost shouted eureka when I stood up from the edge of the bathtub.