A Rock and a Hard Place

Sam and I had been married for about 3 months, and I was close to graduating with a degree in Marriage, Family and Human Development when I came to the unpleasant realization that I really didn't know how to be married.  I had studied, planned, worked, learned, and observed how to be part of a strong relationship, and yet, it was all for naught, apparently.  I didn't get it.

The root of the problem was in reconciling apparently mutually exclusive needs/desires.  If Sam really wanted to watch an action movie, and I really wanted to watch a romance, what should we do?  Or what if he really needed some lovin' and I really needed some sleep?  I felt paralyzed and hopeless.  It was a no-win situation, a zero-sum game, and it just didn't feel right!  His needs or mine?  Should I be selfish or a martyr?

Unfortunately, as life has continued on, the number of needs and desires to reconcile has only grown.  Now I can either watch a movie with Sam or get some sleep or take care of the crying baby.  Or I can either let an exhausted baby sleep or go to a doctor's visit or have friends for the other kids over.  I can either let my baby have his naturally occurring sleep schedule or pick my kids up from school.  I'm not drawing up the alternatives all that well, but you probably get the point.  These situations have plagued me particularly for the past year, as I've tried to get enough sleep not to have a mental break-down, and take care of a very needy baby, and not totally neglect my other children.  I usually want to throw my hands up in frustration and scream "I quit!  I can't win!!" and then go hide in a hole and cry.

Of course, as I have already established, running away isn't actually the answer.  So WHAT IS?!  What can I do when there is only one of me and only one path in space and time that I can proceed down?  If only I had the advantage of being able to see into the future and explore multiple versions of reality and find out which would have the best outcome. . . but I don't and I can't and so I have to do the best with what I have.

I think James, who has been faithfully calling me this past week to make sure I'm not having a mental breakdown and am making choices that lead to happiness and sustainability, would remind me about the importance of making priorities.  "You can't do everything, you have to choose," he reminded me.  But sometimes that is SO DANG HARD!  Like take yesterday for example.  Yesterday morning Isaac awoke at 4 am, at which point I had had four hours of sleep (being unable to sleep the night before for unknown reasons.)  I was very tired and grumpy.  By 5:30 am, despite my best efforts, he had awoken Carol and Dorothea, so then there was no going back to sleep for anyone.  On the way to the 8 am appointment, he fell asleep for 5 minutes in the car, a testament to his exhaustion.  Then we went to his appointment, and sat for two hours waiting for the doctor to come and recast him.  The girls were great.  They watched a movie on the portable DVD player (which worked when plugged into the wall, if not when plugged into the car.)  Isaac, however, got more and more tired and by the time the doctor came to do the casts, he was screaming uncontrollably.  Four nurses and mommy all worked at once to try to calm him, and finish the casts.  He thrashed, bawled, rejected the paci (even with sugar water!), rejected the bottle, rejected five different toys and utterly refused to be appeased.  Only as they finished up with the casts did his eyes start to get heavy and sleep begin to come over him.  After another brief fit of screaming in the waiting room as I was making an appointment for next time (the strain of doing it every week was too much, and I made the next appointment for two weeks instead), he fell asleep in about 10 seconds of being put in the car.

Now, usually, having an exhausted baby sleep would be a good thing.  Unfortunately, this time I had another need/desire to reconcile.  The girls had come along to St. Louis happily, and been good on the very long car ride (considering), all with the happy expectation of getting to go to the Magic House after Isaac's appointment.  The Magic House is about a 10 minute drive from Shriner's Hospital, and we arrived there quite promptly after the appointment.  There was no where else I needed (or knew) to go, to kill time in the car while Isaac slept.  Besides which, I thought it was not a good idea to kill too much time in the car, as we still had a 5-6 hour drive home.   So there I was.  If it was just me, I would have taken off for home immediately, happy to have the baby sleeping.  But then the girl's happy expectation of time at the Magic House (which, while not exactly promised, was certainly understood) would not be realized.

I sat in the parking lot, feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place.  Exhaustion was not a good companion in making a well-prioritized decision, and again, as is often the case, I felt like it was impossible to win.  Let Isaac sleep and go home or fulfill the girls' expectation?  Eventually my hand was forced, as both girls proclaimed the need to go to the bathroom, and so we got out of the car, (me, lingering over a sleeping Isaac) and went in.

The rest of the story is that Isaac, while tired, did fine at the Magic House.  The girls enjoyed their time thoroughly, and were satisfied within a couple of hours, so we headed back home at a reasonable hour.  Isaac went back to sleep easily and slept well on the trip, and was mostly happy once he woke up.  I slept well last night, and woke up refreshed.  It all worked out.  It was only in the moment of decision that it seemed impossible to win.  In fact, everybody won, just not all at once.

As I recall, when I first started feeling distressingly stuck between a rock and a hard place over a decade ago, I eventually came to a similar discovery.  Life is full of opportunities to disappoint and satisfy our own and other's needs and desires.  If it doesn't work out today, well, maybe it will work out tomorrow.  Perspective and flexibility are essential ingredients of healthy relationships.  If I can open my myopic mind from the very moment of the decision and the zero-sum game that seems to be in play, I find a much broader playing field, where, with some flexibility, consideration, and perspective, everybody can win.

I think the myopia which paralyzes me in the face of an apparently no-win situation is, happily, not a permanent thing.  It seems to prevail when I am particularly tired or hungry or otherwise needy.  (I just discovered this pattern in writing this post--pretty much every no-win situation involves me being very tired!)  Remembering this pattern may be a good defense against the hopelessness that surfaces when I feel stuck between two mutually-exclusive needs.  Knowing that my vision is clouded, and that my understandings are shaded with negativity when I feel that hopelessness descend upon me means that I don't have to give them as much import as I otherwise might.  Being able to selectively discount my own feelings is powerful.  It means I am less a victim of my human, imperfect, fallen, mortal, (there is some word here that I am looking for, but of course, I don't remember it ;-) self.

And so, perhaps, the lesson is that rocks and hard places are, eternally, an illusion.  Given the right perspective, everything comes out all right in the end.  Given an understanding of the atonement of Jesus Christ, everyone can win, and be happy and satisfied.  It really is a marvelous thing to consider that all the times our needs are not met, and all the times we fail to meet other's needs can be healed, and swallowed up in light and peace.  We will one day realize how fleeting this life was, and that what mattered was not which of the infinite paths through space and time we took, when faced with the decision, but that the path we took was walked with faith and love and hope.  Ah, I feel more hopeful already.