There's no War on Christmas

Christmas doesn't mean presents to me though nothing pleases me more than a smile on the face of someone I just gave a heartfelt to.

Christmas doesn't mean shopping to me though I love love love Black Friday. 

Christmas doesn't mean Merry Christmas or happy holidays or merry festivus though I say all three to whomever I choose. 

Christmas doesn't mean cheesy Hallmark movies to though I watch them practically every day like they're going extinct. 

Christmas doesn't mean red cups or festive cups or snowflakes on cups though I will spend a tiny fortune on seasonal flavored coffee drinks because they're tasty. 

Christmas to me means giving, laughter, faith, family, FRIENDS, love, twinkling lights, the joy and magic of Santa, Jesus' birth. 

This is the one time of the year I have consistent faith. There's so much good during this season. Do I wish families and veterans and seniors were adopted year round? Absolutely. But it's so lovely to see open hearts and giving even if it is just once a year. 

I have a couple friends that I've just recently had the pleasure of becoming extremely close with. Best friend close. Learning their life story has been such a privilege as well as an eye opener. Never in my life have I met two stronger people. The amount of shit life has given them is absolutely ridiculous. But they're both strong and beautiful and loyal and I've simply never been prouder to call two people my family as I am them. They are what Christmas means to me. Love, courage, faith, resilience, friendship. 

There's no "War on Christmas". There's just you and me. Look beyond what you think is right in front of you. Volunteer. Open your heart. Let it snowball. Be the change.

- Dawny Wendy

50 Shades of Feminism and Judgement

I will preface this entire post by first saying I did not read all three of the Fifty Shades of Grey books. Therefore, my opinion is slightly uninformed. As always, take it or leave it. 

As a mother, I've been tired of the voraciousness of the feminist movement for a long time. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely believe that women should be afforded the same rights as men. But not all men are misogynistic pigs. Not all women are victimized. If a woman goes to a bar with 20 men present, and two men are drunken pigs to her, there's still 18 men that are not. If my husband (and most of the men I know) is present, he's going to defend you and probably defend you to the point of possible harm to himself. 

Now, I'm absolutely not saying there isn't a reason behind the feminist movement. Please understand that. I'm just tired of the fierceness and assumptions that seem to go with it as of late. The assumption that my teenage son is a ball of raging hormones and will demoralize women. The assumption that my husband drinking at the bar will only lead to him cheapening women patrons. 

All that was my roundabout way of getting to my rant about 50 Shades. I didn't like the first book. I thought it was horribly written and just didn't like it. That said, all the news about how women shouldn't see it and how it glorifies abuse pisses me off. The very notion that a woman is going to see the movie and become a submissive victim pisses me off. That notion sets the feminist movement back, IMO. The idea that we as women are so easily persuaded from what we believe is just ridiculous. The idea that we can be so easily indoctrinated is absurd. 

I know what turns me on. The older I get, the more I learn about my body and what I find attractive. But I also know what doesn't turn me on. A pretty face and/or a movie isn't going to change my feelings just because it's a movie.  If it changes my perspective, it's because I'm allowing it to change. It may change because I have the presence of mind to do so, because I'm smart enough to do so. The insinuation otherwise is debasing. 

Instead of lamenting what's bad about the movie, let me tell you what's good about it. It started as Twilight fanfiction. (I'm a nerd and love fanfiction. LOVE fanfiction. I just don't like Twilight) A woman wrote freaking fanfiction, reworked it as an original novel, then published it as an extremely popular original fiction trilogy series. So popular, in fact, that it became a movie. A woman did that. A woman was at the helm of that. I think that is being forgotten in the midst of all of this. 

I'm not going to see the movie. I have no desire to see the movie. I would have been there with bells on if Charlie Hunnam had stayed in the role however. Then I would've gone home and imagined him doing all those things to me, because damn that man is freaking yummy. But it still wouldn't have changed my mind that BDSM is not for me in actuality. 

I'll stick with the real movie I'm excited about this year. The movie I myself plan to leer at the men and look at them as sexual objects. Bring on Magic Mike 2!

Summertime Entry Makeover

Cute welcome mat for summer

Summer 2014 Entry

Filled this green lantern with white sand and a citronella candle

Succulent planter raised on bricks

 I made over the entry to my apartment for summer. I wanted a super cool Chilewich Shag doormat in Citron, which has beautiful yellow green colors and soft grays, but I loved this flip flop welcome doormat too, it's fun, and the price was right. I think it looks pretty nice.
I enjoy sitting on the bench cooling off after I run. I was planning to take sand from the beach for my lantern but someone told me that is a crime, and my mom said that's full of bacteria and could get nasty, so I ended up using some fancy white designer sand that she bought for me. I got a little overenthusiastic and overfilled the lantern; I think I will empty a lot of it out so the candle is sitting more at the bottom of the lantern, more like a candle in a pumpkin.

 - Dani Wendy

A follow-up to my post about the young woman who hit my car after paying for her gas...

For those of you who don't follow me on facebook, this happened the other day:

After I pumped gas a few minutes ago, I went in to pay. A young woman and her two children were ahead of me. Kids were being kids and rattling her. As she went to pay, she realized she forgot her wallet at home. She started crying obviously having reached the end of her proverbial rope. I paid for her gas. She thanked me and left. As she was backing out, she backed into my car. Poor thing. Luckily all she did was break my license plate holder.

I paid for her gas because it seemed the right thing to do at the time.  I've been there.  I've had days where the whole world just seems wrong.  She was frazzled and I felt for her. When she realized that I was the one whose car she hit, she started shaking and crying harder.  I did my best to reassure her that all was good and gave her a what I thought she needed the most, a hug.  We exchanged numbers at her request and then we went on our merry way.

Cut to this morning.  I received a phone call on my way to work.  I almost didn't answer it as I didn't recognize the number.  It was her.  It was a short two minute phone call.  She told me that her husband had left her that day because they had found out the day before their baby was sick.  She was out getting groceries and filling up the car for the sitter because in her words "I was going to leave so the baby could be in foster care where he could get the love and medical care he deserves".  She implied suicide.  Then she tells me that because of that small event at the gas station, she realized she would be ok, that there are truly people out there who will help her if she needs it, that she'll never truly be alone.  She called me an angel.  She asked for me to pray for her baby's health, then she thanked me again for being her very own miracle and wished me a good day.

I have to admit to having a tough time processing this.  Everyone wants to do good, be good, be an inspiration.  But to have such evidence thrust in your face like this?  It's rather difficult to process through.  I didn't pay for her gas that day for any kind of recognition or to be thought of any differently.  It was simply what I wanted it to be: a random act of kindness.  

I KNOW I'm a good person.  But I've never particularly thought of myself as inspiring and I don't necessarily know that I think differently now.  The only people I've ever thought I've inspired has been my children.  But someone is alive today because of me.  It's heavy and amazing all at the same time.

Never doubt your worth, never doubt your light, never doubt what you mean to someone, even those you may not know about.  And if you get the chance? Send up a prayer for her baby.

 - Dawny Wendy

When your friends teach you life lessons, you listen

In my life I'm terribly blessed not with the quantity of friends I have, but rather the quality.  I was reminded of that fact this morning while talking my fellow Wendy, Mary Wendy.  (Or is it Wendy Mary?)  Anyway, I was lamenting to her and Wendy Cole about how we as women can wake up, put on an outfit that we feel we are ROCKING and then see the total opposite when a picture was taken.  She simply said to me "I hate that! I have no answers for it...BUT are you thinking like a princess or a Queen?? Try looking again with Queen eyes.."

Here's what she posted in a previous blog about Princesses and Queens:

Princesses are very concerned with what others think of them, while Queens are concerned with what they think of themselves. 

Princesses go to extreme lengths to perfect what they see in the mirror, while Queens have learned to appreciate and love what they see in the mirror whether its aestheticly perfect or not. 

Princesses are very careful to keep up their facade at all costs, while Queens are completely comfortable with 'what you see is what you get'.

The Princess years are fear-based while Queens are Fear-less! 

Pretty brilliant, huh?

So then I looked at the pictures I had taken this morning with my boys again. I didn't look at just the double chin, or the belly, or the round face.  I looked at my smile.  I looked at the belly that carried them proudly for nine months. I looked at the double chin that fits so perfectly on top of their heads when they cuddle with me.  I looked at my boys.  I saw my boys looking at me with such utter love in their eyes.  I saw the happiness and contentment in my face, in their face.  I looked beautiful.  My boys looked beautiful.  

Wendy Mary is right.  I'm a Queen.  

 - Wendy Dawny

Bacon Bowls

My Punkies love bacon! Especially the Princess! She would eat bacon, cheese and avocado 3 meals a day if I allowed her to!

While Gami was here at Chriatmas time we kept seeing a commercial for these Bacon Bowls that Princess went nuts for everytime it came on! So when Gami went home she of course sent us a package that contained the Bacon Bowls and a Chop Magic(I will review that for you soon!).

So needless to say The Punkies were very excited to try the bowls! We've all been sick off and on since New Years Eve but this morning we baked some bowls!

I tried the microwave first but I thought it turned out weird, it would work if you were in a big hurry but bake them in the oven! It takes some time but oh so good!

I will tell you thick cut bacon works really well but you need to cook it 15-20 minutes longer than the directions say but I think just regular cut bacon will be even better! It tells you to wait a couple of minutes before removing the bacon from the frame when it's done and you really have to then you need a knife to help loosen it!

It was fun and delicious! Two thumbs up from the Punkies!

I filled them with scrambled eggs, cheese and avacado and served it with cinnamon toast because they want buttery cinnamon toast with everything at breakfast!

I will totally be getting these for all my bacon worshipping friends for their birthdays this year!

Big Kisses! Nicci Wendy

I'm Batman

My children amuse me and inspire me daily. 

My youngest son is seriously the biggest pain in my ass. He's a dirty, stinky, and rotten boy aka typical 9 year old boy. 

He's been having problems with double digit multiplication. He just couldn't grasp it. And then finally, after two weeks of nightly practice, he did. He stared at the paper after I graded it, saw the 100%, whispered "holy crap", then jumped up with both arms up and yelled "I'm batman!"  He then cried. When I hugged him and asked him why he was crying, he said "I've been working so hard and I finally got it. I'm just releasing all that's been stored up in my belly". Then he ran off. 

Cue to this morning and his parent/teacher conference. My guy has brought that D in math up to an A. An A. The teacher said he's now helping other students in the classroom that are having problems with double digit multiplication. Hell yeah. 

What have I learned from my child today?

Work hard. Cry when you've finally succeeded. Be Batman.