Well...I do have a heart!

I went to the cardiologist today.  I can't tell you that I wasn't nervous, but I can tell you that Hubby and I try to see the humor in everything when we're going through stuff...and today was no exception!

First of all, it's always interesting when you go to an office where you're the youngest person...by far...and when I write "by far", I mean by at least 30 years.  Here I was all worried this morning about what to wear and I could have worn my moo moo and slippers and fit right in.  Instead, I wore jeans and a colorful top and stuck out like a sore thumb.

So the problem...or what I thought was the problem...was that my heart was going from 142 beats per minute and dropping immediately to 37 beats per minute...and I could feel it...and felt weird every time.  I have already had an EKG and worn a heart monitor for 24 hours...and we all know that NOTHING is going to show up when you're looking for it, so seeing a cardiologist was the next step.  

I'm pretty picky about who my family sees when it comes to the medical world...or any world, really.  I don't just go to anybody...did that once and will NEVER so that again.  So I carefully find out information about the best people that are going to take care of my family in the world of medicine.  This was no exception...I decided to contact our dentists to ask about this cardiologist...you really never know who I'm going to ask about you.  They not only knew him...the guy goes to church at Crossland AND is in our dentist's life group...did I mention that I think very highly of our dentist...and they are fabulous friends of ours?  

So we show up to the lobby and I'm looking around...

Me:  Hubby?

Hubby:  Yes?

Me:  I am the youngest patient here...by like 30 years.

Hubby:  It's okay.

Me:  I really think I'm going through this to help you be a better pastor.

Hubby:  You think God is allowing you to have heart issues to help me?

Me:  Yes...

....I mean, I am a giving person.  

I put my paper ticket in the box and sit next to Hubby and The View is on.  Insert eye roll and Hubby trying to whisper about the show...

Me:  Stop.

Hubby:  Stop talking?

Me:  Yes.

Hubby:  Why?

Me:  You cannot whisper. 

So as we're listening to that awful show, I start listening to people...like the 80 year old woman who has obviously forgotten her hearing devices, but is trying to whisper to her husband "I really need to shave my legs...I mean look how bad they are...it's been a while...but look at my ankles...yes, those legs need to be shaved".  All the while, her husband is nodding...and not listening to a word she's saying.  

And then I see a man that had multiple files and papers in his arms. He goes to the boxes to put his ticket in and he can't read the boxes.  He immediately put on his glasses on and realized he was in the wrong place and said "I'm in the wrong place...again...I've got to stop doing this".  I really felt bad for him...but at least he was smiling and had a great sense of humor about it.  

Finally they call my name.  The lady looks at me like "seriously, aren't you too young to be here".  I am smiling, talking at a normal level, and walking....

Nurse:  So, are you here for chest pains?

Me:  No...I'm here because my heart beats are all over the place. 

Nurse:  Oh!  

...and you could see her relax a bit.  Next thing I know, I'm sitting in a room for an EKG...and he two ladies remember me from last time...am I the only patient that actually remembers them?  We talked about how one is dealing with a salesman and about how they are glad to see me.  Okay...I'll take that as a compliment and not a "glad to see you're still having problems" comment.  

Another lady comes in....

Lady:  Are you Kelley?

Me:  Yes.

Lady:  Alright baby, lift up your shirt.

...I'm here to tell you that I usually don't hear that from random strangers.  In fact, I don't think I've ever heard that.  The sad thing is I kept talking to the other two technicians, lifted my shirt, and went on with life as she's putting these stickers all over me.  

And then...it's over in 5 seconds.  I cannot see the point in an EKG.  Anybody looking for something is not gonna find it in 5 seconds...and it's especially not gonna be found in a doctor's office in 5 seconds.  

So we meet this cardiologist and he is so extremely nice.  He shakes our hand, he's smiling, he's got great manners.  He's talking to us a bit and then says "do you go to Crossland".  YAY!!!!  INSTANT CONNECTION!!!  But here's the best part, nothing changed about his personality when he found out we go to church together...makes me happy that he's the same no matter what.  

Anyhoo...so he shows us the data and he's not worried a bit about my heart beats per minute.  In fact, he says it's quite normal.  Fabulous...I'll be going now.  

Then he shows me these heart palpitations that I have...ummmm....that's a lot of skipping beats.  I mean, I'm a musician.  I can't be skipping beats like that.  I'm supposed to have perfect beat for fabulous rhythm.  Apparently that's not the case with my heart...it's skipping everywhere.  But he's still not worried.  Okay...that's weird, but I'll be going now.

Doctor:  What I am concerned about is about the chest pains you had while you were wearing the heart monitor. How many times does this happen?

Me:  I don't know...couple of times a week...I chalk it up to heartburn.  

Doctor:  Is it a sharp pain?

Me:  Yeah, like a stabbing pain. 

....at this point, I realize Hubby isn't talking...I know that's not good cuz he's soaking things in.  

Doctor:  Do you do anything to make it stop?

Me:  No...I move around, but nothing really helps it...it just stops.  

Doctor:  I'm going to prescribe two tests...an echocardiogram and a stress test.  I want to make sure there is no blockage and nothing wrong structurally...and I want to put your mind at ease about the skipping beats.  

I smiled.  We said thank you.  We scheduled my fall break full of tests and a doctor's appointment.  And then Hubby and I walked hand in hand out the door...

Me:  Seriously.  What are you thinking?

Hubby:  He's a really nice....

Me:  Cut the crap.  I don't want the pastor Hubby...I want my Hubby...what are you thinking?

Hubby:  Your heart skips a lot of beats and I'm really glad we're going to do more tests.  

Me:  That's what I was thinking too.

Hubby:  You were?

Me:  Yeah, that I'm a little worried too.  

So that's that.  I'm pretty confident that I'll be able to make some jokes from the next few doctor's appointments....I mean, how in the world is that stress test gonna work?  I'm gonna walk on a treadmill and they'll show me pictures of what makes me stressed?  And looking at my heart...I would love to see those pictures...maybe to prove to some people that I have one.  

But no matter what happens...I'm going to focus on the precious family and life that God has given me in our life of numbers!

It's Real Folks...Ugly Real.

I've been really leery about making this post.  Mostly cuz I don't want anybody to think "oh my goodness, she's turned this into a selling tactic...I'm never going to read it again".  Cuz trust me, if someone was writing about something and then all of the sudden went political on me, I'd totally shut them out.  And no, I'm not going political...I'll leave my thoughts about how ridiculous both candidates are and how I can't believe that anybody is really cheering for either one of them, but I know that we need to vote cuz we have the right and privilege to vote for the leader of our country, but I am not worried about our country cuz I believe that God knows exactly what will happen and in the end, I'll end up with Him in Heaven anyway...see how I left that all aside (can you imagine if I actually wrote a post about it)...

There are a lot of things that I love to do....I love to be with my family...I love to teach children music...I love to sing...I love to teach kiddos about Jesus...I like to organize...I like to clean...I like to be at home...did you notice the difference?  Love versus like?  Ponder that a minute....

I am loud.  I can be obnoxious.  I am a Type-A personality.  I am passionate about things I believe in.  I will fight for my family.  I can hold grudges.  I am dedicated to my very small group of friends.  I believe in miracles.  I have a completely low, below ground level, negative self esteem.  I am not a morning person.  Yeah, you read that correctly.  I started to try to change myself since I was sixteen years old....trying to lose weight, changing make-up techniques, changing clothes a million times before I went out anymore...it's been an emotional roller coaster since high school.  I wanted to "fit in"....but didn't really know where to fit in cuz I was friends with all kinds of people.  All kinds of people that seemed confident in themselves.  

So when I couldn't ever get comfortable with myself and what I looked like, I threw myself into whatever I was passionate about at the time....and music was always one of those passions for me.  I became that loud, crazy music teacher...one that put so much time and energy into making sure her room was full of fun (and perfect), that I kinda pushed myself to the side.  I didn't worry about what I wore because those loud, crazy colors that I put in my clothes covered the sadness.

And I'm sure I wasn't the easiest person to live with (do I hear Hubby shouting "amen")...I needed constant assurance that Hubby loved me.  I would ask all the time.  I would ask what I looked like in the clothes I was wearing.  I dyed my hair a different color.  I changed just to see if I would eventually find what he loved the most. And when we argued, I would ask for days if he still loved me.  I mean, seriously...who can live with that and be happy!?!??!?!?  I needed for me to be happy with me. 

Then something hit me a few years ago...I decided I was going to do something about me.  I decided to ask my elementary friend about what in the world she was doing to not only lose weight, but to be happy.  And that's when she introduced me to Advocare.  Of course, I thought this was going to be another roller coaster diet that I had already been on, but something was different...and that difference was me.  The Type-A, passionate, dedicated woman came out in me and I decided to jump in with both feet.  And I did.  And I worked it.  And it worked.  So here's the truth....here's the part of me that wants to get down and cry...but here are my differences...

...you might not can tell a difference...but that skirt was hiding a lot of "stuff" cuz I felt so uncomfortable wearing pants on stage that day.  And if you know me, I can't stand to wear skirts...but I had to...I needed to...it was easier to hide everything.  And now?  I LOVE to dress up in costumes and I can cuz I can fit into a regular adult size costume now.  

Have there been ups and downs?  Absolutely.  But I keep at it because I know it works.  I feel better.  I feel more self confident.  Will I ever be that 120 pound model?  No.  Would I like to be?  Uh, yeah...but I'm beginning to be a lot more self confident in who God made me instead of how I think He should made me.  

Fast forward to last year when I was combing the beauty products at Meijer looking for something to get rid of my wrinkles around my eyes.  I mean, with my big and bold personality, I called them smile and laugh lines, but they were starting to make me feel like I was looking older than I really was.  People told me about all kinds of things to try...do you know how many Pinterest "beauty help" pins there are!?!?!?  So I jumped in with this thing called Rodan+Fields.  I'll be honest, I wasn't thinking anything would really work, but this friend kept saying that it would work and she gave me a discount in buying it and told me I could send it back if it didn't work in 60 days.  I thought "for that price, I better be able to send it back".  When I got this box of stuff, there was a sticker that told me to take a picture before I started.  WOW!  These people are pretty self confident that their product was going to work...to make me look better.  So I took a picture of myself and was like "awwww....I'm liking that picture....I might use it as a facebook profile pic".  I took a picture 30 days later and was straining to see the difference.  I kept thinking that I knew this wasn't going to work and I need to focus on other things instead of making myself look good.  I mean, how vain can I be?!?!?!?  And then I took my picture at 60 days...ready to send this junk back...and then I saw my differences...

And then I did something else...something that changed me for the better...something that changed me on the inside...something that changed my heart...I started reading the Bible.  I don't mean devotionals (though, those are amazing)...I mean, I started at Genesis 1:1 and I read every night.  It started to calm me.  It started to comfort me.  I read about all the people in the Bible and how they were far from perfect, yet God loved them.  I read about how people complained that God didn't do this or that for them, but God took care of them.  I also realized that God didn't get into specifics about how people in the Bible looked...the focus is not on their physical appearance, but their heart.  I read how God makes people in His image...and I need to realize that God made me.  He took the time to make me just the way He did from my eye color to my pinky toe.  I also realized that I can work on myself.  I can and need to focus on myself at times so I can be a positive person and not someone with such horrible self-esteem that lets their appearance overtake what I was truly created for.

I always said I wasn't going to be the mom that focused on what her kids look like.  But they have heard me say things about my self over the years, that I see my negative self-esteem in #2.  The last few months, he's complained about his weight and how he needs to exercise to be skinnier....and that kid is the most active thing in this house other than the ceiling fans.  It breaks my heart.  It truly makes my heart ache to hear him sound like I did when I was younger.  My goal is to show him that God made him...and even though he needs to take care of himself (like we all do), he is made in God's image....beautifully and wonderfully made.  

So why do I write this?  To sell it?  Sure, if you're interested you can always contact me.  But I really wanted you to see me...the real me.  The "I'm not perfect" me.  The "life isn't always happy" me.  And I wanted you to see what really changed me...it wasn't just deciding to join forces with some products that are amazing...but it was realizing that I needed to spend a little time on me.  I was hiding behind changing my looks all the time and wearing clothes that were louder than my mouth...I thought those things would make me happy.  But when I dove into God's word and read about so many people that were broken by their choices or other people, I realized that God didn't focus on their physical appearance and I didn't need to spend my life on my physical appearance either.  I need to focus on being comfortable with myself....of course, I write this after using sunless tanner so I won't be so pale for church camp....baby steps Kelley, baby steps (that means I wrote this in July and STILL didn't feel comfortable until NOW to actually post this).  Did losing weight help me feel more comfortable?  Absolutely.  Did I need to lose weight and do I still need to?  Yes.  Did losing the dark circles under my eyes make me take make-up a little less serious?  Well, I'm not buying the new and improved cosmetics every time they come out, so I'd say that's a win.    But I also realize that my body is the one thing God gave me since birth to take care of...and I struggle at times with that.  But I feel so much better knowing that God made me....and He loves me....and I am made in His image...an image that He wants me to nurture....and I can always look to Him for help and He will comfort me and guide me in our life by numbers!

Want to learn more?  Here are some links for more information....

You Version Bible

Advocare Wiggins

R+F Wiggins
Essential Oils

I've Lost the Mercy Gene

I'm missing the mercy gene...like, seriously, it's not anywhere on me.  I'm pretty sure most people have mercy...even if it's a small part...but for some reason, mine is just missing.  Maybe it's from how I grew up, maybe it's from all that I've been through in life, maybe it's from just not been given that gene...but whatever it is, it's not here.  

Why do I bring this up?  Why does it matter?  Cuz my merciless self has come in strong since becoming a football mom.  Don't get me wrong, my heart drops when I see my kiddos on the field.  I catch myself with fists clinched and teeth grinding as the #s are in practice.  And anybody that messes with my boys are on a mental list...most get off by helping the #s on the next play or two.  

But the mercy goes away when I talk to the #s at football.  I get frustrated when they don't tackle correctly or make a play right the first time.  My philosophy is that if they wanted so badly to play this game, then they might as well play it right and not waste time.  And to be honest, I'm slightly competitive so I want them to do everything THE BEST.  I quite aware that it's not the NFL...but maybe one day...

So tonight...for the 4th time in three practices, #3 has come off the field crying about something not going right.  Unfortunately, I don't know about the first two times cuz I wasn't at that practice, but the last two have been doozies.  I remember the first time #2 came off the field crying about his helmet...I was frustrated and telling him to get over it and then one of the coaches looked at it and said that he probably needs a bigger helmet...so I felt like a idiot, but the kid DID play the rest of that practice with a helmet smaller than his actual head.  

With this being the 4th year that #2 has been playing football, I feel like I'm kind-of a relaxed football mom.  I bring my chair to the field and I set it away from everybody.  Why?  So I can talk to myself and watch how my kiddos are playing.  I sip my water and soak in the sun and feel the breeze and watch practice.  I'm going on my 4th year of doing this...this year should be easy.  But then we added #3 to football.

Read this carefully...I begged and bribed #3 not to play football.  I even offered him $250 to not play, but he wanted to so badly.  #2 begged for #3 not to play and then even tried to get me to talk him out of it....
#2:  Please don't let him play.

Me:  I'm trying.

#2:  He's just going to get hurt. 

Me:  He'll have to learn honey.

#2:  You don't understand...he's gonna get hurt...kids are gonna make fun of him...and I'm going to get frustrated.  What am I supposed to do?

Me:  You are supposed to love your brother and stick up for him.  If ANYBODY makes fun of him, you see what #3 does about it and then you can stick up for him.  You're his brother.  

#2:  I don't want to see him get hurt.  

Me:  He'll be fine.  
So on to #3....let me preface this by saying that I know my son.  When he's upset and just can't handle it anymore, if the wind touched him wrong, he would break down.  That's what happened the first time...overwhelmed, upset about being overwhelmed and suddenly, he thinks he broke his finger.  How did he "break" his finger...beats me.  Maybe the wind? Maybe the grass poked it?  Not. A. Clue.  

Here comes the merciless me...
Me:  Why are you crying?


#3:  I broke my finger.


Me:  No you didn't.


#3:  Yes I did.


Me:  Let me see it...can you bend it?


#3:  No.


Me:  Yes you can...look.


#3:  But it hurts.  


Me:  You're fine.  Get out there and play football.  You signed up for this and you're gonna finish it through.  


#3:  But I'm struggling.  I'm not the best. 


Me:  No...you're not.  There is and will ALWAYS be somebody better than you...so be like them...now go play football.  

He goes back out on the field and plays.  All the while, I know that parents are looking at me like "she is so awful".  It's okay...I've been called worse.  

So after this ordeal, I decided to pep the #s up a little with a talk before each game...
Me:  Repeat after me...I am strong


#s:  I am strong.


Me:  I am tough.


#s:  I am tough.


Me:  I am good enough to play football.

#s:  I am good enough to play football.

Me:  I will not cry unless there is a bone sticking out of my body.

#s:  I will not cry unless there is a bone sticking out of my body.  
...yes, THIS is what we repeat all the way from our elementary school to the football field.  Over and over and over. 
So another thing about #3 is that he is a rule follower...and if someone doesn't follow the rules, then he is not happy.  As much as he is defiant and would break a rule himself just because he wants to, he doesn't want anybody else to break a rule and will be distraught if they do.  So today here comes #3 walking off the field with snot coming out of his nose and tears streaming down his face...
Me:  What's the matter?


#3:  He's cheating.  People aren't doing what the coaches say and it's frustrating because that means I can't do what I'm supposed to do.


Me:  Everybody is learning how to play this game.  You have GOT to stop crying every time something does go as YOU planned or you'll be crying every practice and game.  


#3:  But you don't understand...


Me: I DO understand and you need to suck it up cuz everybody tries to win and if you keep crying over someone doing something to you, they're gonna think you're weak and tackle you till you bleed...and then you'll really be crying.  


#3:  But...


Me:  NO BUTS....GET OUT THERE AND TAKE YOUR FRUSTRATIONS OUT ON THE FIELD....NOW!


#3:  Yes ma'am.  
...of course, I look around and there are parents just staring at me.  I'm sure that between the crying and me talking like that to him and then them hearing that he has Tourette Syndrome, SAD, ODD, and ADD, they think I'm a mom that needs to have some people from the state visit her.  

As soon we #2 gets off the field to get water...
#2:  I TOLD you this would happen.  I TOLD you that he would get frustrated.  I TOLD you he would get hurt.  

Me:  I get it...hush and get some water.  

My evening has consisted of talking to #3 about tonight...
Me:  Honey, I love you.

#3:  I love you too.

Me:  Yes, I love you...but if you keep crying on the field, I'm gonna have to spank you.

#3:  WHAT!?!?!?!?

Me:  You have got to toughen up...and I don't know how else to tell you.

#3:  I'm trying mommy...and I love you so much that I'll try even harder.  
...yes, for most parents that would be heartbreaking...but remember, I've lost the mercy gene...
Me:  Yeah, I'm gonna need you to really try harder, not just tell me...show me.  

I'm not all heartless...I did hug #3 and then he asked me if I would snuggle with him tonight after his bath.  And of course...that's gonna happen...I mean, how could I resist this face...

...and so all is right in the world...until our first game on Saturday...in our Life By Numbers!