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, July 8, 2015

Hoping to Become a More Kick-Ass Me

“Illness can be an invitation to become a deeper, 
stronger, wiser, more kick-ass you.”
- From Chronic Resilience by Danea Horn

   I’m re-reading Danea Horn’s book because I need help in making it through my days. 

   We recently took our summer trip.  Three days and two nights in Santa Barbara.  And we explored the Santa Barbara Zoo for the first time.  I had been told that the Zoo was beautiful, reminiscent of a large park that just also happened to include wild animals.  And it was. 

   But even though it was smaller than our L.A. Zoo, I still struggled.  There were still many inclines for me to climb.  Lines for me to stand in (we waited in line for thirty minutes for Ryan’s turn to feed Michael the giraffe.)  And our time at the zoo wore me out. 

   We got back to our hotel, and I plopped onto the couch.  And even though my pedometer didn’t register an obscene amount of steps, a day at the zoo just isn’t something I can comfortably do any more.  I’m forced to admit that my legs just aren’t as strong as they once were.  I asked Ryan how his seven-year-old legs felt.  He was only mildly tired.  It was only Mommy, with her “boo-boo leg,” that was suffering. 

   And after getting wiped out from our day at the zoo, my mind went on fast-forward wondering how I will handle future “big” trips?  We talk of someday returning to Hawaii (we were there for our honeymoon in 1999) and Paris (we were there in 2005).  How will I manage on those trips?  And it’s those thoughts that wear me out and wear me down.

   I’ve had difficulties and challenges before.  I used to rely on public transportation.  I used to take six buses a day to get me back and forth to Cal State Northridge so I could earn my Bachelor’s degree.  But I knew I wouldn’t always be enduring that commute.

   I was pregnant.  I handled my contractions and experienced the pains of childbirth (without anesthesia).  But I also knew there was an end in sight.  I knew there was a final outcome I was working toward.  I knew I would be rewarded with the birth of my son.

   With this autoimmune disease, I don’t know when, or if, it will end.  I don’t know what the final outcome will be.  But I like Danea Horn’s words, that this illness will somehow serve as an opportunity for me to become a “deeper, stronger, wiser, more kick-ass” me.  I don’t know how it will happen.  But I like the idea of it happening, and for now that’s enough.


  1. I am so sorry you have been dealt this painful condition.I pray everyday the pain will ease up for you.Just keep having good thoughts as you are a WONDERFUL person and you certainly don't deserve to have to deal with all the pain you have.I love you and I am very proud of you.

  2. It kills me to know you have all this horrible pain. You are a very Special Person and please don't ever forget that. Your mother & I are proud of you.
    Love, dad

  3. Honey,
    You are an amazing and strong woman. I hope we can find some relief for you with this horrible pain.
    I Love You!
    Love, me

  4. I am proud of you for re reading a book on how to become a more kick ass you!!! I don't think it's possible but good for you for re reading a book. I am sorry you are in such pain and having to endure this terrible disease. I love you!!