Sometimes, I talk such a good game that I fool even myself.

I’ve written on this blog about all sorts of ways that I make myself feel better in times of stress. I’ve written about setting my feelings down beside me and leaving them alone, about allowing things to be #goodenough, and about giving myself a break when I take on unreasonable expectations.

Particularly, I recently wrote about allowing myself to enjoy the infant pace of life that I find myself consigned to with a newborn baby at home. And this has been working, for the most part. I’ve really been enjoying my mat leave.

But last night, I found myself feeling resentful and jealous of my husband’s ability to go out and play baseball. I’m sure I’ll also feel jealous when he goes out to play sports again tonight. (I should note that he is repeatedly and vocally grateful that I “let” him participate in these weekly activities. And that I’m truly happy to have him do them.) But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m in a rut of missing my own activities and my own ability to head out the door without having to plan it around a small window where someone isn’t going to need to feed off my body.

This morning, it was suddenly 10am, and I felt like I really hadn’t done anything yet, despite the fact that I’d been up since 6. I’d fed the baby, changed him, had an hour-long nap when he did, and fed and changed him again (oh, and I managed to put eye drops in for my cat somewhere in there, if we’re really counting everything that I got done). I know, I know, I’m supposed to be grateful for the fact that I actually could have a nap. I’m supposed to delight in the fact that my baby went to sleep long enough for me to do so.

But the fact is, I’m disappointed that I need a nap at all. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being physically drained from breastfeeding to the point where I need a nap even after I did get a good night’s sleep. The novelty of luxuriating in a nap and a shower as legitimate activities in my day has mainly worn off. I’ve done this for several weeks, and now I want to get things done. I’m the type of person who needs new challenges. It was a challenge for me to just be okay with the infant pace of life, so now that I feel like I’ve been okay with this for several weeks, I want something else to accomplish. (And yes, I realize that this admission in fact means that I have not accomplished truly being okay with the newborn pace. But I’m bored of this challenge and I want a different one instead, dammit!)

So you see, I fooled even myself. I fooled myself into believing that living in the moment, learning to appreciate where I am now and not constantly be looking toward the next thing in life, was in fact something I could accomplish and then “check off,” as it were. It’s not, obviously. So today’s a bit of a humbler. I guess it’s time to press the reset button on my own expectations.