my life (lately) in nursery rhymes

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells, and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row.



Okay, my name is Niki, not Mary.  But you get the idea.  I've been feeling quite contrary lately, as I continue to slosh through a time abounding with tension.  I have also continued to consider pretending that everything is 100% fine.  Really, who wants to read, week after week, that I'm having a bad time of it?  Then, I think of my own preferences.  I certainly prefer honesty over pretense, even when it is difficult to take the honesty; I like to feel emotionally connected and invested in what I am reading, especially as I don't have a lot of free time to invest; I find it helpful to read about the ways in which other people have gotten through their rough patches.  So, I continue talking about my tension and how I'm trying to push through it.  Hopefully, it's helpful to someone aside from me.  I have been trying, contrary feelings or not, to continue to grow my garden.  Um, my "me" garden?


I got the idea for this week's post while reading a Mother Goose book to Terza.  Prima and Secondo have been with Uno and his family for the past week and a half. I miss the bigs like crazy, but it's also been nice to have some time with just the littles.  Because most of the time, I feel like this lady (only, minus the whipping and withholding food.):

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.

She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

Having some time to read a book with Terza while Quarto takes a nap, without worrying about whether or not Prima and Secondo are getting enough Mommy time, is nice.  It's also the rare occasion when Terza will sit still long enough to listen to a book!  She made it through about two rhymes before she went running for the hills...well, for her toys anyway.

So, sitting there with an empty lap and an over-sized book, I began looking through nursery rhymes.  Then, being the modern girl I am, I decided to reach for the internet (as I so often do) and search familiar nursery rhymes there.  I came across this old favorite and decided to check out which day I was born on.  Of course, as it turns out, I was born on a Wednesday!  (Luckily, I'm not sold on the credibility of these predictions!).

©2000 Denise Van Patten -
http://collectdolls.about.com

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child must work for a living,

But the child that's born on the Sabbath day 

Is fair and wise and good and gay.

So, honestly, why am I so afraid of having people know that I'm having a difficult time?  We all have them: bad days, bad weeks, the dreaded Bad Year. So, why am I so afraid that maybe I *am* a "Wednesday's child?"

Well, no one wants to be seen as weak, do they?  I certainly do not, and I'm fairly sure most people feel the same.  And it is in times of pain that we feel weakest, broken.  This guy knows what I'm talking about:


Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again.

And you know why they couldn't?  Why all those people couldn't just slap Humpty together again?  Well, I am going to hazard adding a new last line:
...because he had to do it himself!  


Obviously, I'm talking about myself here.  So, I'm Humpty and I've got to do it my(damn)self.  Amid all the commotion of kiddos and cleaning (there's always so much cleaning!)...


That reminds me of my second-to-last rhyme for today:

Here we go 'round the mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush,
The mulberry bush.
Here we go 'round the mulberry bush,
So early in the morning.

These are the chores we'll do this week,
Do this week,
Do this week.
These are the chores we'll do this week,
So early every morning....

Okay, this one is way too long.  If you'd like to check out the whole thing, you can see it here.  Let's just say, there's a LOT of cleaning.  And, like the song, the continuous nature of tidying up often reminds me of going 'round and 'round a mulberry bush...a mulberry bush of annoyance and repetition!  I don't know a person alive who actually ENJOYS cleaning.  Oh, I know people who like the end result (everyone likes a clean and tidy house), I just don't think I know anyone who likes creating the tidiness.  If you've discovered the secret to honestly enjoying getting behind a mop, or making a bed, or picking up the same toy for the fifth time in a single day, please share it with me!  I may be getting better about doing it, but I still loathe every second of it. 


So, what was I typing before my I-hate-cleaning-wahhh-me rant?  Ah yes.  I was splattered on a sidewalk, looking out for some men or horses to put me back together...and realizing no, I have to do it myself.  My(damn)self, even.  Easier said than done.  Once you're a big sidewalk scramble, it's hard to get all the bits back where they belong.  Of course, you could hard-boil your insides; it would be a lot easier to reattach a shell to a harder interior.  But that's not what I want.  Not by a long shot.  For better or worse, I like my runny yolk center.  I don't want past disappointments to harden my outlook or my emotions.  I feel like to some extent it has happened already, as with my constant chorus of "I don't ever want to be with someone again."  So, maybe I'm soft-boiled.  I can deal with that, for now.  


Another reason I fear telling about my "woe?"  I don't actually feel perpetually woebegone.  My mood rises and falls many times over the course of my week.  Over the course of my day, even.  In the mountain range of my emotional day, there are almost as many peaks as there are valleys.  Maybe even a plateau or two.  I guess I just wish that the valleys were fewer and farther between, which is why I have started reading The Happiness Project and why I'm so gung-ho about talking out these blues-y feelings.  (Side note:  My sister is in a play this weekend, and we bought a bunch of iron-on transfer paper for some t-shirts.  I am now seriously considering making a shirt that says "Soft Boiled" with the leftovers.).


So, quickly, let's update on how things are going.  (The cultivation of my "Me" garden?).  


I'm currently weighing in at 177.4 lbs.  Pretty decent, considering I've been a little looser on the food reigns of late.  62 days later, I've lost 22.6 lbs and 16.5 total inches.  Not bad for about two months of work.  


Also, I am getting excited for the The Sound of Music auditions.  The audition dates have been set for August 21st and 22nd.  It is good to have that goal coming closer; it helps to re-focus my energy on working out and eating right.  Remember, fingers crossed, please!


So, lovelies, I'll leave you with one last rhyme.  As always, I hope you are all doing well and feeling great.



The Man in the Moon looked out of the moon,
  Looked out of the moon and said,
"'Tis time for all children, on the earth
  To think about getting to bed!"




All love, 


nik*






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