Paris Hilton, Contractions, and Ego Strength

I never know what to call these posts. When I write a short story, I never know what to call it either. Titles are not my strong suit. But anyway....

My daughter is in the hospital as I write this and they are trying to stop contractions her doctor discovered she is having regularly during her routine OB appointment this morning. They've given her two shots and are still waiting for them to stop, and then said they will send her home on meds. If you are new to this blog, her baby has diaphragmatic hernia, so we don't want prematurity on top of that. She's not due until July 1, so she's 32 weeks now, 6-8 weeks to go. I wanted to drive down there but it's an hour and half drive and she assures me by the time I get there they will have sent her home on meds to keep them stopped. So I'm sitting by the phone worrying.

My youngest son was on his local evening news about a petition to not let Paris Hilton get off without jail time just because she's rich and famous. You can see the video HERE.

I saw the therapist yesterday. She keeps telling me I have low ego strength. I had no clue what that was and when I asked I never quite understood her answer, until yesterday. She said ego strength is emotional strength. We have physical strength and when it is low we get tired, and we have emotional "ego" strength and when it is low, in my case, I isolate and get depressed, or quiet, or whatever. I said maybe I'm just introverted. She said no, because she's seen me up and down so many times depending on what has been required of me during the week before I see her. If I get to stay home and "piddle" (no, that doesn't mean pee. ha.) around the house, I am much more upbeat and look better and feel more talkative. If I have had to do something that is taxing for me emotionally, which for me means social things, I go into her office looking like something the cat drug in and she has a hard time getting me to talk (or sometimes make it to my appointment.)

So now that I had all this information, I said what do we do about it? She said we are working on getting you in touch with your feelings so you will know what drains you emotionally and also what fills you back up, and you can learn to do positive things to keep yourself in a better position emotionally. She said I'm making progress. I told her it's all I can do sometimes to make myself drive over there and talk to her for an hour. I make myself do it because I know it helps me. I just have to trust the process I guess. I'm suppose to journal this week and also make a list of things that make me happy when I do them, like sitting in the park or photography or writing, and also things which bring me down emotionally, which is a long list.

There is a big part of me that hears this voice in my head that sounds an awful lot like my mom saying, "You don't need that woman. You don't want people to think you're crazy, do you?" Well, I think seeing the therapist helps me. I'm not always sure how, but I know I am in a much better place than I was, say, five years ago. So who knows...but I promised myself I'd keep going. I keep writing about it on here because I've had several people tell me something the therapist told me helped them, too. I hope it does.

I have started sewing again. My husband set me up a sewing corner in the guest room in front of the window. I am making me some blouses, pants, capris, and nightgowns. My sewing machine started making this clunking sound, so I took it in for routine service, and it won't be back until Friday or Saturday. In the meantime, I'm having fun looking at patterns and stuff. The only fabric place here is Hancock Fabrics. The women in there act so snotty, I just hate to shop there. I really think I'd drive thirty miles to the other location just to not have to deal with the snotty women. Like today, I bought some fabric that was 50% off, and started at 6.99 a yard. She tried to charge me 4.99. I said, "Uh, that's not 50%!" She looked at me like she could kill me, and huffed and puffed but finally went though voiding that out and re-ringing the sale. That's like almost six bucks difference with all the yards I bought, so I thought it was worth speaking up about.

Then they advertised their patterns for 99 cents, and I bought ten. She yelled across the store, "Is there a limit on these 99 cent patterns?" The lady yelled back no. Then the lady at the registar yells again, "But she has bought TEN!" Again, the lady yells back that there is no limit, that I can buy a hundred if I want them. By then everyone in the store is staring at me, the people in the line behind me are piling up and I want to kill the cashier. So you see why I would be willing to drive far, far away to go somewhere else to shop for that stuff....

My husband wants me to go with him tonight to a "going away" party for a guy that works with him who is in the reserves and going to Iraq. I would rather cut off my head than go to that but I told him I would. Now I get to dread it all day. Some times I just want to slap myself! ha.