About Me:

Aloha! I'm Wendy Kennar. I'm the mother of a seven-year-old son and a wife living in Los Angeles. I was a public school teacher for twelve years until a chronic medical condition made it necessary to leave my teaching career.

I've always been described as "quiet" - really, I'm just biting my tongue. I've got lots to say, and lots of thoughts to share, I just prefer to write them. That's the purpose of this blog. Each Wednesday, I post a personal essay offering my observations and thoughts.

A few fun facts about me: I've wanted to be a writer since second grade, when my teacher, Mrs. Jones, made me a "book" with a yellow construction paper cover. I have never learned to whistle, have always preferred sunflowers to roses, and have spent my life living within the same zip code.

Through the years, my writing has been published in the Los Angeles Times, Christian Science Monitor, United Teacher, GreenPrints, L.A. Parent, DivineCaroline.com, RoleReboot.org, XOJane, and Brain, Child Magazine. Additionally, my personal essays have been included in several anthologies, including: The Barefoot Review, Beyond the Diaper Bag, Lessons From My Parents, Write for Light, Being a Grown-Up: A User's Manual for the Real World, Ka-Pow!, How Writing Can Get You Through Tough Times, Breath and Shadow, The Grey Wolfe Storybook, and Sisters Born, Sisters Found.
I am a regular contributor at MomsLA.com, and you can also find me at Goodreads.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my blog. Feel free to comment and share my blog with others!

Wednesday, November 21, 2012


       Memory works in funny ways.  I can recite the Preamble to the Constitution but not always recall what I ate for dinner the evening before.  I can recite phone numbers and license plate numbers but not remember where I last put down my pen.

Thirty-six years on this planet and here are some of my random memories:

My first memory dates back to when I was almost three.  I wore a nightgown, and my brown hair hung down.  I was leaning on the wall behind me as I talked on the phone that hung in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen.  My Grandma sat on the couch, facing the fireplace.  I know I was speaking to one of my parents.  And I know they were at the hospital, and when they came home, I’d have a baby sister.

I remember attending kindergarten orientation, wearing sandals, and worrying when the teachers announced that students would not be permitted to wear anything but closed-toe shoes to school.  Had I already broken a rule?  (My mom assured me it was okay for that one day).  

I remember a birthday party at Burger King, leaning forward to blow out the candles, and my long hair almost getting singed by the flames.

I remember I wore a skirt the night I first was kissed.

Those are just random snapshots - a few culled from the millions of momentous moments scattered throughout my life.

And now I wonder - what will my son remember?

I am trying to raise my four-year-old son with endless amounts of love along with a sense of fun and responsibility and security.  I am trying to raise my son in a home that is happy.  I am trying to give my son confidence to be who he is.  I am trying to provide my son with a childhood full of memorable moments.

    What will stand out from the millions of moments we share?  I can only hope the good moments will be those he holds on to and carries with him throughout his life.

There is  his first visit to Disneyland.  His Halloween performance at preschool.  A pony ride at Griffith Park, a tricycle ride around the block, picking out the Christmas tree with Daddy, or visiting Grandpa at the golf course.

Or will it be a Sunday outing to Ralphs, an afternoon spent outside watering the plants, or shredding lettuce for our dinner salads?

I don’t know yet, but I’m anxious to find out.  
Readers, I must ask, what is your first memory?  I’d love to have you share in the comments section!


  1. I so could relate to your blog.The one main memory I will never forget was I was 2 years old and my parents along with my aunt and uncle dressed me up in a fancy party dress and told me I was going to a party,well the only place I was taken to was the hospital as I was having surgery.They took me there and left me screaming.I was so scared and to this day I can still recall wearing a yellow party dress and all that took place.I guess that is why I still have a horrible fear of doctor's and hospital's.It makes you wonder why some things a person can recall years later and things that happen in the present aren't always so clear to remember.You are doing a wonderful job in raising Ryan.He knows he is loved and I am sure he will have wonderful memories to remember
    and talk about as he gets older.I love you and I am so proud of you.

  2. My earliest memory is of finger painting in kindergarten. I have a lot of memories, mostly good but some are bad. My life before I met your Mother was not a thing to be proud of. As I enter the twilght of life, I feel that I have had a good life, the reason for this is your Mother. Your Mother and I are proud of you.

    Love, Dad

  3. Honey,
    One of my first memories is listening to Michael Jackson "Off the Wall" with headphones and learning how to read by following the lyrics printed on the album. I also remember the pre-school I went to had a cool collection of animals! Your writing is amazing and I am inspired by your dedication to your craft. I Love You with all of my heart!
    Love, Paul