Women’s Fight – Quillan Kelly-Dunn

#Beyourself, Find A Way, Health & Wellness, Let Them, Mel Robbins, Mental Health, Women's Fight

How much do ya need?

January 13, 2025January 3, 2026 quillankellydunn

Now that whirlwind of the holiday season is over and we are collectively experiencing a massive dopamine crash…

Let’s take a moment now to reflect and ponder…How the hell did we do all that?

Or maybe “What was I thinking buying that?”

The glow of the Christmas lights ignites a warm feeling in our hearts and a goodwill toward others. It courses through our veins like heroin. It’s as if the high of “giving the perfect gift” intoxicates our mind and clouds our judgement. We think with our hearts instead of our brain. Thankfully for our bank account, it only happens once a year. Yet, I still love every minute of it and will do it all again next year.

This year, however, it seemed more apparent to me than in years past, the weeks before Christmas are more of a rush than the actual day. The preparation for Christmas, the tree, decorating, shopping, & wrapping gets us excited. This excitement from Black Friday until 12/25 is a perpetual, steady, high like no other.

I noticed on Christmas day, there was a slight sting hovering in the background; mourning the loss of the “anticipation“.

Don’t get me wrong, my Christmas week was a blast. This was an ambivalent feeling of pure joy, combined with a lump in the back of my throat. I miss “looking forward to it”. I miss being excited. Must be aging…

This got me thinking… if I live to 100, I’ll only have 49 more Christmases. 😢

https://www.instagram.com/p/DEKp9XQxgq-/?igsh=MWo5Nzcyb21pN3h5dw==

While I was watching my annual Christmas movie selections; I noticed another surprising change. I found that I was annoyed with George Bailey. I’ve been loyal to him for 35 years so it’s tough to admit, but I have lost patience for him in my old age. He sounds like a whiny brat at times.

I have been identifying more with the true hero of the story..Mary Hatch Bailey. Mary knew what was going on the whole time.

Mary Hatch knew she loved George even as a young girl.

Mary whispers in his bad ear,
“George Bailey, I’ll love you til
the day I die.”

She was subtle and assertive when something or someone stood in her way.

Aka Back off Bitch, you can’t have ALL the boys in this town!

She knew where she wanted to live. She visualized and wished with her heart; it worked. Little did she know without the internet or Instagram, that she was manifesting dat shit into her life.

Most of all, she innately knew what was important and could see the big picture. She didn’t need a whole production of angels coming down from heaven and putting on a show of “not being born” to let her know what life is all about…

Mary stayed focused on her goals and didn’t pay attention what other people were doing.

When there was dilemma, Mary found a solution.

When the whole town was bankrupt, she “lent” her honeymoon money to the community.

She fixed up the old house to make it a “home.” She found a solution instead of whining about the cards she was dealt.

Am I still allowed to say she added
a “woman’s touch?”

She didn’t get embarrassed that her car was a p.o.s. or by what she was wearing.

Mary: “Why are you wearing diamonds and furs on a roadtrip?”

Mary had four babies, volunteered during the war and supported the well-being of her husband and kids.

When the $8000 went missing, she knew WHEN to ask for help from her friends. One person or family can’t do all the giving. She is aware that friendship is a two-way street.

She knew when to stop giving and to ask for help, she knew that pride doesn’t save anybody.

Therefore, we need to be aware of when to stop giving and start asking.

The key is, recognizing what is in your control and what is not.

Knowing when you need to LET others do what they are going to do.

Let others THINK what they are going to THINK.

Let people gossip.

Let people judge.

Let people display their true self all over the place.

Why? Because it is out of your control. Why expend the time and energy? If someone acts like they want to leave and doesn’t treat you the way you want, you can let them GO.

“Why don’t you GO HOME! aka GTFO George Bailey you lil bitch.”

Below is a link to 60 minutes of the best therapy ever (you can fast forward through commercials.)

https://open.spotify.com/episode/5mCeQEWX2CvRVId19mUyrh?si=F50whAw6Tqa3JWYN5zzdWg&context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A37i9dQZF1FgnTBfUlzkeKt

This podcast episode provides the tools and mindset on common situations such as: Dealing with a stressful boss, a break up or a divorce, when your children can’t get motivated or when you feel guilty about disappointing your family, or friends & more.

The game-changing concept that is also discussed “If every thought you had cost a dollar, would you keep thinking about it?” Would you keep wasting your energy if it cost money?

How much more do you need to know?

Other people are ahead of me in noticing this:

https://hopenation.org/why-mary-from-its-a-wonderful-life-is-basically-life-goals/

Book from the podcast:

https://www.audible.com/pd/B0DFMX1RT8?source_code=ASSORAP0511160006&share_location=pdp

Runners up on seeing the big picture:

#freedom, #homeschoolingrealshit, #teens, American, Anxiety, Autism, Find A Way, Health & Wellness, migraine relief, parenting struggles, prettyinpink, Women's Fight

Pretty Pink Poison

May 17, 2024January 16, 2025 quillankellydunn

Since I’ve been gluten & dairy free for 20 years, my binging on candy and baked goods has been a lot more challenging.

This is a good thing of course.

I found out about celiac disease, the gluten allergy, before most heard of it, in 2004. People would look at me like I was nuts when I told them.

It wasn’t that big of a deal at first because I still had the option to binge on dairy products like ice cream, gluten-free pizza, Frappuccinos, cheese, & yogurt.

Then I kept getting these scorching sinus infections & migraines, so I went to the doctor. She suggested I try no dairy for a while because it’s mucus producing. Dairy is also a huge trigger for migraines.

Unfortunately, that was the solution. I felt fantastic physically, however, mentally not so good..

I went into a deep depression induced by cheese-withdrawal.

(I still have reoccurring dairy-free-depressive episodes, intermittently triggered by not being able to eat pizza or a grilled cheese etc.)

Dairy-free cheese has not been able to cut it…Cut the real cheese. 😔

Dairy, soy and gluten/wheat is in almost everything, especially most delicious candy bars and chocolate.

Since then, my occasional go-to favorite candy is pink starburst.

I savagely rip through my kids Halloween candy each year.

*Never realized that Andy’s dress resembles a PINK STARBURST* 🤩 *She looks delicious*

I’m usually irritable the next day if I eat a lot of sugar. Sugar hangovers are real. I do my best to limit it. However some days I cave if I’m really tired.

Anyways, my son bought me a huge bag of all pink starburst. It was a sweet gesture, yet I was furious with him.

“Don’t bring that shit in the house, you know I can’t control myself!“

I say this to him as I am shoving pink starburst into my mouth & frantically unwrapping more.

The binge began…

The scrumptious starburst were gone in about eight days.. Everybody in my house had some, but I consumed the most. I was pushing them onto my family like a crack dealer.

I was so crabby each morning.

I was in a steady, simmering rage for four days, irate, snapping at everyone, & ready to pounce.

Whenever I would have these episodes in the past, I would chalk it up to my period.

However, I had a hysterectomy in November 2023.

Can’t use my period as an excuse anymore. ….(next post will be about the correlation between diet, menopause & hormones).

I felt like I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t focus and I was so agitated.

If I am a 49-year old woman experiencing this type of chemically-induced rage, what do you think would happen to a toddler/child/teen if they consumed these products.

I used to think red 40 and behavioral problems was a bunch of baloney. I am humbled to admit that I believe the chemicals, artificial colors, flavors & Red#40 in our food is poison.

It may not be the instant, fatal poison. ☠️ However, it is clear in how the body reacts to these ingredients.

There are tons of tik toks, articles, & posts about the correlation of diet, red #40 & behavioral problems in kids/teens.

There is also concrete, scientific evidence that this is true here and article at the end.

This guy below is a doctor (@docamen) and boldly posted this, so there must be some truth to it:

Garbage in, Garbage out.

Terrible chemicals in our food combined with overstimulation from electronic devices sounds like a recipe for disaster.

Where do you think these episodes cause the most issues?

At school, where you need to focus, sit still and be receptive to learning.

Sitting still in a desk for hours is already difficult, why add anything to make it worse?

Maybe after kids consume starburst, skittles, nerds, twizzlers, fruit snacks, cheetos, doritos, pop-tarts, gatorade, sour patch kids, gummy bears, fruit roll ups, pudding snack packs, jello, powerade, high-C, juice etc, at breakfast or lunch-you may see behavior like this:

I am communicating this because I clearly overdosed on red 40. As an adult, who forgets sometimes and eats this crap; it’s obvious some people are very sensitive to this FDA permitted junk.

The FDA to consumers:

A friend of mine, a teacher of kindergarten, sent me this text after my last post.

Another teacher friend replied:

*We can’t keep dumping this on*
*teachers & schools.*

I won’t bore you with the details and the conspiracy theories. Instead, wondering if collectively, we ALL could stop purchasing products with red 40. Hopefully companies will stop making it the poisonous way.

Or perhaps, it can be banned like it is in Europe & other countries.

It’s all really confusing:

These products are fast and cheap but there is no food in your food.

Looking at the ingredients in products before you purchase them is frustrating and time consuming, however, if it prevents us and our kids/teens from behaving like assholes, isn’t it worth it?

Something quick now is slowly poisoning ourselves over time.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5To1VsgHKq/?igsh=MTkybDRnY3B0ODByMA==

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2214750023000926

ADDENDUM 1.15.25 Yay

https://youtu.be/vDsWU1qV_0k

Autism, Grief, Uncategorized, Women's Fight

The Eye of the Sparrow (Part Four)

February 16, 2024February 16, 2024 quillankellydunn

For about ten years, things were great with our team. We became a little family. We embraced each other’s idiosyncrasies. We invited our spouses and kids to our quarterly get together’s. (Mom Friend) MF invited all of us to her husband’s 50th party because all he wanted for his birthday was to “jam.” I had never been to a party where they had a real band in the backyard equipped with stage, dance floor, microphone, and instruments. MF’s brothers and brother-in-laws all were musically gifted as well. They all performed and sang on stage, even MF, her husband, her kids. It was by far, the coolest party I had ever attended.

I had planned on sleeping over so I was lucky enough to witness a real “acuostic jam session” between MF, her brothers, sister, nephews, nieces, and her kids etc. Everyone was enjoying drinks and were sitting around with their instruments. MF nephew asked her if she had heard of the song, “Angel of Montgomery” By John Prine, sang by Bonnie Raitt. MF replied “Kinda”. He said, “All right, Let’s do it.” Her nephew handed her a notebook with the lyrics written inside. All of MF brother’s, nephews etc began playing as if they rehearsed this everyday; which they didn’t. They all had regular jobs but played music for enjoyment.

I always knew MF was a good singer, however, I was soul blown when I witnessed what I did that night. I hate to sound like Stepbrothers, but honestly, she did sound like a combination of Fergie and Jesus; as if Bonnie Raitt or the Angel of Montgomery herself was in the room. It was fascinating to watch. When she was done singing and the guys were all done playing, everyone seemed to say “Whhooooaa” simultaneously.

Soon after, MF’s husband hurt his back really badly while landscaping, his mother died of Alzheimer’s and his business fell apart. He was unemployed and lost. Meanwhile, their son was approaching high school graduation and becoming a legal adult, which was setting MF and her husband into a tailspin of anxiety and concern about his future.

It did not help that MF was going through menopause and this seemed to trigger a new onset of mood disturbance symptoms. She could not sleep, she would fly off the handle and at times it was as if she could not stop talking. One day I teased her and asked her how much coffee she had that day. When she asked “Why!???” In a paranoid, attacking way. I told her she reminded me of Kramer from Seinfeld when he drank too many cafe latte’s. That didn’t go over well 😬.

Thankfully, the Doctor and Rokstar could always get MF laughing no matter what was going on; usually by taking a break and watching a few SNL clips or Thug Life videos. Of course her flying off the handle led to some comical stories. MF would often to refer to herself as a “Straight up Ridah” inspired by “Ambitionz of a Ridah” by Tupac.

Our personal favorite “Ridah” story was when MF got into a debate with a bad ass, hilarious, six foot tall Amazon woman at work. At our next party, the two of them decided to settle this debate by agreeing to disagree and then by having a “dance off”. Both tenacious women claimed they won and it was an event we still laugh about, mainly because of the “Ridah’s” perspective and comments about it.

Following the dance off party, MF was doing well again for a while, until her family was struck by another tragedy. Her niece that she was extremely close to, lost her 10-day old full-term newborn.

Understandably, MF fell apart again, and it seemed to take her much longer to bounce back. This seemed to break her heart and spirit more than anything else ever had. Seeing a beautiful, angelic baby in a bassinet/casket is something that no one should have to witness. I went to the service. It was a traumatizing sight. It is one of those things I deeply wish I could “unsee” because that image is burned in my brain. I cannot fathom the pain that MF, her family or this baby’s mother had to endure.

One day MF conveyed to us that she finally found comfort from the tragedy in the bible verse Matthew 10:29, 31. It was difficult for her to see God’s plan this time through the baby dying, however her faith helped her find peace. I still was detached from my faith so I ignorantly teased her for being a “Bible Person”. When she explained it to me, I hated to admit that it made sense, I had not yet made my peace with God.

After this incident, MF’s husband to seem to spiral out of control. It seemed he could not cope with the severe back pain, the financial pressure of losing his business, his autistic son’s future, his daughter’s financial & college career and then his wife’s grief and depression.

MF was struggling with her husband’s episode because he was always the rock that kept her and her son together. His patience with his son was limitless and MF would frequently say that he has the patience of a saint. However, since her husband was self employed, worked alone at home, he did not have time for many friends or a support system of coworkers as MF did.

Rokstar was very concerned when MF did not show up for work February 8th, 2016 and she was not responding to texts or phone calls. Rokstar, The Doctor and I were talking on the phone together on three-way and we decided that we should stop over at her house to make sure everything was okay. It was snowing and we were thinking something may have happened with their power. Deep down, we all knew something was wrong.

I live the closest, and already out, on the way home from work, so I stopped over first. Rokstar was on her way also. The doctor lives in the city, so no need for her to drive.

I rang doorbell, no one answered the door, it was eerily dark and quiet until the dog started barking. Then I walked by the garage and saw a dark liquid that looked like oil on the sidewalk from the garage.

The Doctor called the police on her home phone while the three of us remained on our cell phones together. We all had a sick, nauseous, trembling feeling. The bond the three of us share from that night changed forever that moment. It was an unspoken promise, we are forever together from this.

The police would not disclose anything to Rokstar and myself except that there was someone deceased in the home and that they would contact us once the identity was confirmed.

One can only speculate why MF, her 18 year old son and her husband were found dead in their home. One can only guess what happened based on the information that is known.

Ironically I found peace and comfort in “Don’t be afraid, you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”

One thing I do know is that when you have a a friend that you love, you do not want to see them in pain. I do believe she is no longer afraid. She is not in pain anymore and does not have to worry about her son’s future because she is right next to him. Additionally, she would be going ballistic everyday if she were here to see Trump president😂.

By the grace of God, their daughter took some time off, but eventually graduated from college and sings everyday. MF’s strength lives on in her daughter’s heart, soul and voice. #margaretstrong

Update:

Katie was hit by a train February 16, 2019, the 3-year anniversary of the funeral service. I am sure this was no coincidence, but who can blame her. No one should have to endure that pain, devastating loss, and heartbreak. To be honest, the pain was so raw and debilitating when Katie was alive. Your heart shattered, literally everyday for her. Especially when she posted herself singing. Thank God they are all together now.

our work family on the night we found out…

#Beyourself, #freedom, #homeschoolingrealshit, #teens, Badassery, coming of age, john hughes, parenting struggles, scoliosis, sixteen candles, Women's Fight

GEEK GIRL #1

July 6, 2023July 6, 2023 quillankellydunn

I found myself bending over, while someone dragged their fingers down my spine. I slowly walked back to the class wearing my plaid skirt, round collar blouse and unfortunate weskit (vest) and forgot about it.

I didn’t think about this random, bending-over screening again until I read the book Deenie by Judy Blume.

I was so confused by Deenie’s choice to hack off her hair because she was so angry about having to wear the brace.

I remember thinking “What’s the big deal about the brace? She only has to wear it for a few years. It’s not her fault. “

Then I saw Sixteen Candles…

I laughed just like everyone else did at “Geek Girl #1” played brilliantly by Joan Cusack. GG1 is a more memorable character, yet she doesn’t even have a name.

At least THE GEEK, the OG of geeks, receives an additional title aka Farmer Ted.

I always found the parts with GG1 hilarious, until July of 2020, when I observed my daughters spine X-Ray.

Reels of Geek Girl #1 played repeatedly in my head.

To make matters worse, the doctor (recommended by the pediatrician) never came in to speak with us. Instead I had find out from this nervous, pipsqueak physicians assistant. His beady, little eyes were peering over his mask. All I heard was custom brace, follow up every six months.

The nurse, not the doctor, calls to advise me “The doctor said that your daughter has to wear the brace 23 hours a day.”

Me: So you want ME to get my 12 year old preteen daughter who cannot tolerate a TAG touching her body to wear a brace for twenty-three hours a day?!

Nurse: Yes. Okay then. Good luck. Call with questions…Buh bye now.

Now all of your inner-parental-bullshit-meters, may be saying, “get a new doctor”. It was clear she had to wear a brace, I already got the order. Yada yada yada…I had bigger issues at hand.

I had one kid starting high school, one starting 8th grade and the giant task of getting my daughter to wear the brace…

Let the battles begin.

Since she was supposed to wear the brace 23 hours a day, we were pretty much fighting all day long. She adamantly refused to wear it during school. Her argument: she already has braces to maintain, she has to wear a mask all day at school & she would have to remove the back brace to go to the bathroom and have someone help her put it back on. This is all during the peak of covid. I surrendered on that one.

Finally we were able to get her to wear it while sleeping.

She was miserable and angry. We attempted to have her go to counseling to process her emotions about scoliosis, she refused to talk. We attempted to have her go to physical therapy, called the Schroth Method for Scoliosis. When she had an appointment in the evening, she was a beast the entire day.

Her amount of tenacity was baffling.

My daughter was told at PT that “even if you wear the brace 23 hours a day, we cannot promise that you won’t have to have surgery.” After this, my daughter begged to have the surgery every minute of every day that she was awake. I would leave the house as much as possible, but not many places to go during quarantine.

July of 2020-July of 2022 the brace war continued. She grew five inches and her hip and shoulder shift was becoming visible, so we had to get a new brace. I finally met the doctor. He saunters in the office with his lab coat and I’m not kidding, wearing khakis with hardcore, Roadhouse cowboy boots.

At this moment, I was glad for the mask that hid my disgust at his arrogance. Cowboy boots in Chicago seemed so unprofessional and downright odd. He then tells us in a condescending manner that “since she only wore the brace while sleeping, she can throw the brace away because she needs surgery.” This was the final straw.

I was was ready for the surgery but no way in hell was I gonna let this drugstore cowboy touch my daughter. I delegated the “battle of the brace” to Dad to find a new doctor.

My daughter loves to tell tales of her father during this time… When her Dad “went full on Karen.”

Introducing the male version of Karen:

Maciej (pronounced Ma-Chea)

Well… after “shooting many messengers” debating with many doctors & pulling my daughter out of school countless days for appointments; Dad found a winner.

When it comes to your kids spine… “Going Maciej” is the only way to go, he got it done effectively & efficiently. No mercy.

Our daughter had the surgery May 30th, 2023 at Ann & Robert H. Lurie Children’s Hospital of Chicago. It was a success!

Overall, her new doctor, Dr. John Grayhack, was extremely smart, confident, sweet, funny & absolutely wonderful throughout this entire process.

Our daughter received exceptional nursing care, PT/OT and pain management/muscle relaxers.

She discharged on June 2nd. She had a rough three weeks at home with pain, not wanting to eat, medication withdrawal and exhaustion. She was instructed to walk twice a day and her body would adjust its own alignment. She was wiped after walks.

I told her pediatrician about the big dumb bohunk she referred me to and she deleted him from her system. She now refers to our doctor.

Follow up on July 10th with full release to normal activities. Just in time for her 16th birthday in August.

Sorry Jake Ryan, it is more important for her to love who she sees in the mirror.

P.S. I know some cool, fun, laid back Karen’s. Unfortunately your name is just an adjective for effect. Nothing personal.

#Beyourself, #freedom, #greatpretender, #millenials, #opportunity, #simonsinek, Badassery, Find A Way, gun control, Hamilton, Lin Manuel Miranda, march for our lives, unlockingus, Women's Fight

BLUE is the new BLACK

January 16, 2021January 16, 2025 quillankellydunn

During my time as an ER crisis worker, I was written up at least once a year for accumulated tardies.

I have also been put on levels for mistakes I made.

I am one of two individuals in the history of my department that was on a “level”. (Level three is termination.) How unfair right!?

Back story: When I first started, I got so mad about a PTO policy that changed; I impulsively went straight to the CEO. 🙈😬 Soon after, I began to receive levels for “minor” mistakes.

Upon receiving this level, I went into full-on JED mode (justify, explain, defend) a.k.a JJM (JOLIET JAKE MODE) to my boss.

I was FURIOUS at her audacity because I had stayed late the night before!

HOW DARE SHE!?

How dare THEY!!!”

I then exclaimed, “It was 7:01! Can’t you let this slide?” (What about the other six late clock-ins? 🤔)

I pissed and moaned about it to my coworkers.

One day, a nurse in another department candidly told me “I’ve been on a level before. You know what? It’s just to help you learn. It’s not like a jail sentence.”

When I stopped blaming, I was able to see clearly what I did wrong and how I need to change. I DESERVED the LEVEL.

This level was about a choice I made.

This level was about a mistake I made.

My justification that it’s “no big deal” or my valid reasons for committing this violation does not matter.

It is a rule, policy, procedure etc. and I broke it. PERIOD.

I needed to THINK.

OWN IT. Learn from it. Accept. Admit. I.was.wrong.

I needed to feel the pain and shame of the consequences in order to change.

I preferred to “get in trouble” individually than have my whole team suffer for my mistake, my ignorance, and my stupidity.

Just as I HATED it when I was a kid and we lost recess because of the one asshole who wouldn’t stop talking. I never wanted to be that kid.

I didn’t want to be that coworker.

This “dumb” rule and it’s “unfair” consequences is to prevent much bigger mistakes from occurring in the future.

I attended a mandatory re-training, with clear concise examples and the consequences if not followed-ahead of time. Also annual trainings to keep this fresh in our mind.

Oh and remember how I went straight to the CEO when I wanted to have a tantrum about what I didn’t like? I learned to follow the chain of command. It is there for a reason. I get it…now. If I didn’t make those mistakes, perhaps I wouldn’t have.

Do I deserve to lose my pension because I made some bad choices?

Should my entire department lose their pension because of my mistake?

Speaking of losing pensions, here is another authoritative tale where I believed I was right…This is in regards to the countless tickets I have received for speeding, failure to come to a complete stop at a red light prior to turning right, and blowing red lights.

After my violation, I would respectfully hand over my insurance card and license to the police officer with a sweet, innocent smile. Sometimes, in a vain attempt to get out of the ticket, I may have flirted a little.

This manipulative behavior on my part would be dismissed with a “nice try” nod or a wink as if to acknowledge the effort. Then the police officer did their job by handing me the ticket.

Later, while attending court to fight this outlandish claim: I smiled, apologized and respectfully presented my case.

After all, I had VALID reasons why!!!

However, deep down I knew the truth.

I wasn’t truly sorry….I was sorry because I got caught. Perhaps this ONE time I may have been right; but what about was 27 other times I made the same mistake and didn’t get caught.

I was only sorry for my behavior because it hit me where it hurt. 💰 💴 ⏰ I could not afford the consequences.

Therefore, I was not GENUINELY sorry, but feeling sorry for myself.

After my presentation at court, you know what the police officer or judge would reply 97% of the time? Something like:

“You weren’t even close.”😂😎

I didn’t get out of it.

I didn’t have a tantrum. I didn’t persuade anyone in powerful positions that “I know” to get me out of it.

I was stuck with the consequences as I should be.

I paid the $200 fine. I went to traffic school. I drove more cautiously to avoid future infractions. I learned to stop the behavior.

Should I have gotten a lower fine because I’m a woman?

Should I have gotten a lower fine because women earn less than men?

Would a man have gotten out of this?

Was I just pulled over because I am a female?

Was I written up because I am a female?

I don’t know all the answers but I’m leaning toward a hard NO. My point is, we are all humans and make mistakes. I can at least own my part. Shouldn’t we all?

Some make worse mistakes than others and those individuals need to receive their appropriate consequences.

We still ALL EQUALLY need consequences to continue to learn and function in society. Yes, of course there are racist and sexist people in this world; but there are many more who are not.

What happened to accountability?

I knew the rules and I still chose to break them.

I am aware if I commit a serious crime, I go to jail. No getting out of it. I respect my freedom so I obey the law. (See below for Chris Rock- obey the law skit)

I DO NOT deserve special treatment because I am a woman.

I SHOULD NOT be let off easy because I’m really, really good looking 😜(Zoolander). (See halo effect)

People should not get out of consequences because they have alot of money. EVERYONE should have the same punishment for the crime.

That is the BOTTOM LINE.

There are NO excuses.

There are no valid reasons.

I should receive consequences and re-training.

It never even OCCURRED to me to argue with police or judges.

Perhaps some would call this an example of “white privilege.”

I call it RESPECT FOR AUTHORITY.

I call it RESPECT for our COUNTRY.

I call it RESPECT for the RULES.

I call it respect for those HUMAN BEINGS who are doing their extremely difficult job to enforce the rules.

I don’t know about you, but I NEED rules.

I need authority.

I’m not sure when all this ENABLING started, but it has to stop.

In a time, not too long ago, we used be like this:

A time when people laughed instead of being offended about everything.

How can we get back to this? Where we laughed and celebrated our differences? When we could joke and laugh about our stereotypes.

How can we move forward from today and stop being so divided? In the end, we are all equal human beings, aren’t we?

Perhaps making everyone read this book below as a mandatory part of being a United States Citizen would help us remember.

Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know about the People We Don’t Know https://www.amazon.com/dp/0316478520/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glc_fabc_3j2aGb1RGFC5V

Regardless of what any of us think of our previous president, he is human too. One person cannot be held responsible for everything. There is a LONG chain of command that is also accountable. We NEED Many LEADERS! Like thousands!

#freedom, Christmas; The Grinch; The Ultimate Gift; Mother knows best; 2020

The Stocking is Half-Full

December 29, 2020November 26, 2025 quillankellydunn

The biggest fights I had with my mother were about her relentlessly forcing me to watch old movies.
.
It was so “unfair”! I wanted to watch “normal” stuff like everyone else. I would fight her to the end.
.
I was SO stubborn! I STILL am! Right now, I am gritting my teeth like these defiant toddlers & teens below.👇🏻🤬.🙈

I’m not moving, what you gonna do about it?

I haven’t watched THE BISHOPS WIFE since I was an eye-rolling teenager- too busy scowling to see the magic. Even if I did, I wouldn’t admit it.

To keep from slipping into that Charlie Brown-what-is-Christmas-all-about-depression this year; I needed something bigger than Buddy or the Red Ryder BB gun.

So I made a point to watch The Bishop’s Wife over Christmas weekend, remembering how much my mom loved it.

Watching this movie now at 46, in 2020, was like fuel for the soul.

How did I miss the sweet snowball fight scene? (Or my favorite kid of all time- the young George Bailey—Bobby Anderson). Probably because my mom was trying to tell me to look.

George Bailey I’ll love you til the day I die. (Just don’t tell my mom or I’ll have to kill you,)

I didn’t appreciate the ice skating scene; probably because my mom gushed about it; which in turn made me think it was “dumb”.👇🏻

In pouting and covering my ears, I also missed the story about the shepherd and the empty stocking.🥰🥲😢🤩
.
I see it now. I feel it now.🙈👇🏻

White Christmas- I dreaded this one too- “I hate musicals!” is all I would defiantly scream.

My Mom: “You don’t hate musicals. You love Grease, West Side Story, Wizard of Oz, The Sound of Music & Mary Poppins.”

Me: (grrrrrr🤬) “Those aren’t musicals, shut up and don’t talk to me!”

Over the last few years, I finally swallowed my pride and let myself enjoy White Christmas. Fine!

Ok! The songs are kinda catchy. 😜

Who am I kidding? I love all of them. 🙈
I get the true meaning of the story now.

That General Waverly chokes me up every time😢…

I now appreciate the insane dedication, practicing and hard work that went into this movie: the real dancing, the real singing, (not computer generated ) the lighting, and the dresses! Perhaps it’s because we live in lounge wear & jammies now but I never truly noticed THESE outfits!

I mean…who wouldn’t feel sexy AF in this?

I am grateful that my mom is still here for me to tell her THANK YOU for being so annoyingly persistent. It only took 30 years+a quarantine for me to come around.

Read this true story about Irving Berlin. It will break your heart even more about this song, the story and the👇🏻 movie.

https://www.countryliving.com/life/news/amp45720/white-christmas-song-history/

THE ULTIMATE GIFT

This year, I recognized the greatest gift I have ever received. The gift of this knowledge presented itself on Christmas Eve and was about as welcome as Ebenezer’s three spirits.

A old friend casually joked with me “at least you got to believe in Santa Claus.”

I never thought of “believing in Santa” as a gift or that having the “chance” or “opportunity” to believe in Santa Claus was a privilege.

It makes me sad that my friend did not have this opportunity.

I realize now how much effort is put forth into having your child “believe”. Perhaps some parents don’t have the energy, imagination or faith to keep this alive; or maybe some parents do not know how.

The innocence, imagination and simplicity of a child’s mind made the magic of Christmas easy to pull off.

Their excitement over little things made me excited; which in turn made me WANT to make it fun and magical.

The last two years have been opposite for me with two teenagers. I honestly had no clue what to do for them because they are genetically predisposed to be selfish, ungrateful assholes.

The vibe & statements I received from them was, “Christmas isn’t as fun anymore mom, it’s no big deal. It’s okay.”

The message I would give back, “It’s okay kids. I have nothing left to give anyway you life-sucking punks. I am empty.”

Which in turn caused me to NOT WANT to do anything for them this year. I didn’t care.

However, this is the year they needed me to care the most.

Then I remembered what my mom would do.

Despite what we said, she would do it anyway. My mom still did everything the same even when we were teenagers and early twenties. She still put presents out from Santa on Christmas morning and put stuffed animals in our stockings despite the eye rolls. It was as if she could still see our inner child; kinda like this commercial.👇🏻https://youtu.be/QJntbYytPz8

She had the ability to be where we were at… yet she still knew what we still wanted; even though we were too stubborn to admit it.

I did what my mom did and I did it anyway. I stayed present with where my kids are.

I had no expectations of them or their reactions. Instead of being mad about their lack of excitement, I rolled with it.

I made my kids wait until after church to open gifts.

I stalled a little longer to finish wrapping gifts for others. Even though “it’s not fun like it was, mom”…they may have accidentally displayed some anticipation and a glimmer of childlike-Christmas-morning-glow.

By expecting them to be as they are instead of what I hoped them to be; I was pleasantly surprised by their pleased reactions and gratitude.

It was a beautiful Christmas and my kids were grateful, sweet and thoughtful.

My mother gave this gift to me…

My mother “showed” me how to “do” Christmas.

Mom, I should just wrap you up and put you under the tree every year because you are truly a gift. 😢☺️

And you were right about everything.🤬😂 (Inner Teen: Thrashing defiantly inside.)

Well, almost everything….

I refuse to stay up til 4am wrapping – that shit is done way ahead of time while kids at school or out with friends. I also learned from this SNL skit to ask for exactly what I want, buy it for myself if I do not get it and to stuff my own stocking!. 😂

#brenebrown, #doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, #homeschoolingrealshit, #millenials, #opportunity, #sidehustle, Badassery, brene brown, glennondoyle, Health & Wellness, Lin Manuel Miranda, narcissism, narcisstic personality disorder, parenting struggles, relationships, unlockingus, vulnerability, Women's Fight, Yoga Pants

Sympathy For The Devil

November 23, 2020January 16, 2025 quillankellydunn

I may not KNOW a lot of things but one thing I do believe for sure is that BOB (Esai Morales) from La Bamba is one BADASS mother fucker. He has to be THEE coolest and most captivating actor on the planet.

He should have won an OSCAR for best supporting actor for his performance; (Esai Morales) truly MADE the movie.

He literally SEDUCES the audience.

That being said, what I find most ironic is that no matter what he did or said, I still liked his character. I thought he was hilarious, I still do. What is even more puzzling, is that he is a complete dick.

(Side note: Esai also appeared on Ozark for a season or two- I was immediately entranced. )

As a woman, I completely identify with Rosie. As a mother and wife, I empathize with how she feels; I hate how she is treated by Bob. What was also puzzling is that she ANNOYED me. 🙈

I can actually feel her pain, grief, & confusion. You can see it written on her face. The “wait…wtf-just-happened?” face. The “how-in-the-hell-did-I-end-up-here” face. She displays this facial expression the majority of the movie. We all know that face.

We all know that feeling: When you realize you’ve been had. You got screwed over. The worst part about it, the majority of it was your own doing. You assumed. ASS-U-ME.

I get how she assumed as well. Any woman in a could easily fall into Bob’s trap; especially the married ones. Bob’s seductive allure could have wise woman entranced in his spell: After Bob flirts with you: Huh? What kids? What husband? You don’t have a job you say? Ballsy. Hot…You drink every day? Wild & crazy. You live in your mom’s trailer? Sounds cozy. Humina Humina 😍🥰😛

I am embarrassed to admit this, but I remember thinking: Awwww just leave him alone Rosie.. it’s your own fault you got yo self knocked up…

I STILL liked him after that horrible, disrespectful and honest statement by Bob. Like “Dayyyuuumm.” Why?

I am an educated & wise woman, yet I still like Bob. Wtf!? How come? 1. Clearly excellent acting by Esai Morales 2. Amazing directing

However, I am not satisfied with this. Inquiring minds want to know!!!

I was concerned with my reaction when I watching this movie recently. When the mother, Connie Valenzuela, minimized Bob’s cartoonist abilities and reminded him that he is about to become a father, I thought: Jeez Connie, buzzkill, what did you have to go and do that for!? Why don’t you get out of Richie’s ass and pay attention to poor Bob. He is trying. POOR BOB

Poor Bob: your womanizing, chauvinistic, selfish, entitled, immature, unemployed, alcoholic, manipulative, man-baby-son who just was released from prison.🤔 (Bob sounds like a real catch on paper doesn’t he?🤥😂)

Idle hands are the devil’s workshop; idle lips are his mouthpiece.Proverbs 16

From a biological & genetic standpoint, Bob does what Bob does best. Bob is a an alpha male who is genetically predisposed to flock his sexy shit to attract females. Bob does whatever possible to get laid; ultimately procreating more human beings to populate the earth. (Biology 101: It is vital for males to compete for reproduction and for females to choose between those competing males.

If a member of the opposite sex finds your tail, your song, or your dance moves sexy, you will have a chance to fulfill your primary biological role as a member of your species: to reproduce.
https://biogeoplanet.com/how-do-animals-find-mates-sex-and-sexual-selection/

This is “Bob’s” “primary biological role” aka his job and he rocks it. He got Rosie pregnant so now he needs to “move on” and to do this again.

It’s not his fault…yet. (Please don’t get angry, hear me out;)

From a biological/genetic standpoint, Bob is doing his job. He behaves how all male animals act. Bob is genetically predisposed to be what humans would consider “an asshole”.

The problem is, he also doesn’t know any better. No one has taught him otherwise. No one has had the chance to teach Bob to step above his biological urges.

Please don’t cause him to feel inadequate by making him have to THINK.

Don’t make him feel like a failure by asking him to have COMPASSION or EMPATHY? That is NO FUN.

What would cause a human being to behave this way? Or to treat women this way?

Bob’s True Story & my psychological interpretation😜:

Just like Rosie, Connie also hooked up with a bad boy at a young age and got herself impregnated. The hot, sexy biological father took off.

I know you “love him” Rosie, but unless you want to cook dinner on his motorcycle…

Connie then met someone else (Steve) and Connie married Steve when Bob was two years old. Steve loved Bob and treated him as his own. Steve and Connie then had a child together, Ritchie. Ritchie was a reflection to Connie what she did right=Ritchie=golden boy. However, Bob was a reminder of her bad decisions.

Connie, Steve, Bob & Ritchie were doing well together for a while. Bob assumed Steve was his biological father and Bob loved him.

In an interview, the real Bob Morales states his life took a bad turn when he was 14 and his parents (Connie & Steve) separated.

“I moved in with my mom while Ritchie went with my dad. One day I told my mom that I wanted to live with my dad and and that’s when my aunt told me ‘Why do you want to go with him if he’s not even your real father.’Bob Morales

Despite Steve conveying to Bob that he loved him as his own son, the shock devastated Bob. Also, it was horrible timing for Bob to find this out because soon after this discovery, Bob began high school.

Bob was getting into fights frequently so he stopped attending. Instead he gave money to the homeless nearby who would buy him alcohol.

While his now single-mom was working two jobs, Bob was not going to school and had no structure all day, no guidance, no direction=idle time which is the DEVIL’s playground.

Therefore, Bob ended up going to a detention center from age 12-17! Connie, his mother, signed him over as a ward of the state. He did not see his family that entire time he was locked up.

👆🏻Bob’s inner child translation: Go Fuck yourself Connie. I will never let a woman hurt me again.

The first time Bob saw his mother or Ritchie in years; was the day of Steve’s funeral. Which also means he didn’t get to say goodbye to Steve or to grieve properly.

Bob learned to adapt to his lonely life by becoming the life of the party. He learned how to get what he needed by finding comfort in women and selfishly move on. This probably soothed his resentment toward his mother for while, but then he felt guilty; so he drank the pain away.

Of course he was jealous of Ritchie. Ritchie got his Dad and his Mom. He got nobody.

The point is that all of US are capable of evil depending on what we are exposed to.

I thought of this blog when I was about to bitch at my son for not cleaning up the mess he made after making quesadillas. I realized that I can’t assume he knows how. I’m not going to shame him like Connie. (Wtf is wrong with you? Think like a woman) Instead, I showed him how clean it up. I EDUCATED him on what I want. I told him that this is what I expect. I didn’t talk to him like he was stupid. I thanked him for making his own food. I didn’t clean it up for him. This is the only way they learn.

Mothers: We cannot assume that our sons are just going to know how to treat women when they’re older. We cannot assume that their Dad’s are going to teach them either. Most Dads are working their ass off and are never home. (Probably chasing tail 😂 not knowing why. Kidding!🤪)

We have to teach OUR SONS what WE want from them so they can learn how to GIVE this to their future partners. We need to teach them about affection, connection, friendship, compatibility, respect, and the long term.

We have to teach them that this may be a biological urge to continue to chase women and populate the world, HOWEVER, we are not animals. Reality: kids are expensive AF.

It costs a lot of time, money, energy to raise a human child properly into a respectable adult.

We need to teach them that human females can be hot and smart. Women can be attractive, fun, brilliant, and confident. We have to teach them, not ASSUME, that a Human FEMALE’S purpose is not only to populate the world.

It’s Biology Rosie- I’m kidding!
You can have both!

We also have to teach our daughters: What they tolerate will become their future. Being a victim will not get you anywhere.

It’s OUR job to ALSO teach the FUTURE MEN of this world these skills. We need to teach them how to love unconditionally. Parents need to be a TEAM.

There is a chapter in this book on how we “go easy” on our sons because we don’t think they can manage it all and are tougher on our daughters 🙈

https://markmanson.net/love

https://markmanson.net/compatibility-and-chemistry

#markmanson

#ericthomas

#glennondoyle

#brenebrown, #doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, Badassery, Find A Way, parenting struggles, relationships, unlockingus, Women's Fight

True Romance…

September 4, 2020January 13, 2025 quillankellydunn

When I win my Oscar for best screenplay and give my speech; I would love to say “and last of all, I’d like to thank my husband for not giving a shit.”

Despite how it sounds, I mean this in a good way. By his “not giving a shit” or being “too tired right now” is actually helpful. My anger at him forces me to figure it out myself.

When I do, my self-esteem sky rockets. I am no longer mad at him because I am too empowered; but not in a self-righteous kind of way. Like in a “men and women are equal” way.

In the heat of a debate. We Both stubborn AF

Whenever I ask my husband for help, it is like an imaginary tennis match. He takes his pretend racket (tongue-on-roof-of-mouth-click-sound effect) and he just hits that request right back to me. My rebuttal (tongue-click) back to him. The longer I debate, the longer the match. Kinda like this: https://www.instagram.com/p/B-e3V7MDtMi/?igshid=z3swsvcatt03

I hate asking for help and I’m not a damsel-in-distress type of chic. I do not need or want to be taken care of or to be saved. (It does feel nice to think about it, perhaps my stubborn pride gets in the way.) When he does offer suggestions or the “right” way of doing things; he is met with a straight up tirade of obscenities from me. Therefore, deep down, I really do not want help.

Or…I would rather do it myself than deal with this:👇🏻

My husband after getting rid of yellow jacket nest 👆🏻

My old man is the most tired man in America; he works three jobs; so it’s understandable why he is exhausted. However, it was kinda weird that he was able to stay up through rain delays until 1:45am when the Cubs won the World Series. Miraculously, he was still able to get up for work at 5am the next day. But…that’s another story…😂

Anyways, I get that he’s tired; which is why I cannot expect much from him. They say having no expectations leaves you pleasantly surprised right? My expectations are so low it’s kinda like when someone goes out for a pack of cigarettes and doesn’t come back. 😜 When show back up, you are pleasantly surprised.

So I live my life expecting him not to come back, but he keeps showing back up to sleep, eat and watch sports here so now what? 😜

I work full time as well and handle everything at home with kids such as an being an Unpaid Uber driver, bank teller, chef, grocery shopper , scheduler, drama processor… I’m TIRED!….

I know that he knows it’s difficult at home and more difficult than what he does because my situation is unpredictable. He will never admit it. Raising kids/teens is not black and white how he prefers. I hate things that are black and white except movies. Being at home with kids plus working is all mutha-effin gray. You never know what you’re going to get.

Anyways, back to our most recent endeavor. About a month ago, our washing machine stopped working. It’s a LG High Efficiency washer, equipped with smart diagnosis. This means that I can connect my IPhone to the washer and it can diagnose what’s wrong. My washer continued to display “IE”. He has an Android, I have an iPhone which probably contributed to his feelings of inadequacy. 😂

For every insult, there’s a counter insult.
No one ever wins. 😉

In the manual, “IE” means that you have to clean out the water inlet valve, the Manual says to clean inlet valve monthly. I know we have NEVER done this. So I asked my old man to do it. He didn’t feel like fixing it right now which led to the “tennis match”.

While sitting on the couch, he told me to call the repairman we used for the dishwasher. The woman who answered the phone asked me what was wrong and I told her.

She replied, “Yea, that Washing machine brand isn’t the greatest. That code means you need to clean out the water inlet valve”. I said “Like I know what that is or how to do that, thats why I’m calling you.” (Whorebag, in my head)

So she calls me back and said she can get me in on Saturday between 12pm-4pm.

Me: “Ummm that’s four days from now, you have nothing sooner?” Whorebag: “Nope. Mmm-mmm. No. We will call you the day before AND the morning of to confirm.”

Me: “Ok, thanks” (In head: “Dont you condescend me, man. I’ll fuckin kill you man.)👇🏻

I confirmed the service call from the know-it-all, condescending lady on Friday night and Saturday morning. We go out to breakfast to do something together since he is going to work and I have to be home by noon for repair man.

I overeat carbs to feed my resentment.

So on my day off, in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, I have to wait. Me sitting on the couch, after a large, carby meal and doing nothing but waiting is not a normal situation and unfortunately, I fall asleep.

Three unanswered calls later from the fix it guy, I missed my repair window. His voicemail:

“Yea, since you aren’t answering the phone, I am not wasting a 20-minute trip since you are my only call out there today.” Me: Ew. Wasting his time? Who the hell does this guy think he is?

Off topic: True magician, Gary Oldman as the pimp Drexel Spivy

Me: (Furiously calling him back-but I get the awful lady 😫) Me: “I thought after I confirmed three times, he would just show up. I left a note on the front door for him to just come in. I missed his call but I have been here waiting.”

Know-It-All-Lady: “Yea, no, he’s too busy. If you missed his calls, then we have to reschedule. Where were you anyway?”

Me: (wtf-now who does SHE think she is?) “Where was I? I was home, sitting here waiting, doing nothing. I never do that so I fell asleep.”

Know-It-All-Lady: “You fell Asleep???”

Now if my husband dozed off on the couch, this would completely accepted and understandable. For a woman to fall asleep-Unheard of. This woman should know how tired women are in general as a species; this is a complete betrayal.

I’d rather die than have you fix my washing machine bitch

Me: “Well, I think it’s ridiculous that you guys make me wait four days for this appointment. Despite my confirming both calls and wait on my day off on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. His time is too valuable to drive here? I’m sorry my shitty machine isn’t worth his time. I’ll call another company.” She began to talk and hung up on her. (Damn that felt good)

So… I have had a hell of a time finding someone to fix this thing; but I REFUSE to call that company back. I really do not enjoy cleaning my cleaning appliances. 😂

So, I swallowed my pride, watched some you tube how-to’s DIY fix it videos and did it.

I thought of the jerky boys while doing this. “Should I bring all my tools?” https://youtu.be/5F-VQtEfbTU

Yea, I fixed it. It cost NOTHING. I’m a bad ass. I’m muthafuckin Charlie Bronson👇🏻.

In the end, I know how to fix the washing machine. I know what a water inlet valve is and what a pair of pliers is. I don’t need him to admit that I’m a bad ass. I’m not even mad anymore. The irrational thoughts have left and I’m left with realizing this was about a stupid, replaceable washing machine. As much as I hate his guts in the moment, I realize now I’m doing the same thing he is doing. Everything I say about him, he could say about me. He handles stuff that I don’t think about. I don’t give a shit either. 😂

However,👇🏻Admitting it is sexy, I hope men don’t wait until they are this old to see the truth.

Off topic: See the best of Floyd: I still laugh 18 years later

#freedom, #greatpretender, parenting struggles, vulnerability, Women's Fight

I am Henrietta Hill

January 21, 2020January 22, 2020 quillankellydunn

The last three days have been interesting…

It’s the First time BOTH of my kids have had projects at the same time.

(Be sure to check out hilarious science fair pics)

I hear myself sounding just like my mother and as much as I hated what she told me … she was right.

I was so rotten as a teenager.

But I guess that was my job.

Maybe that’s the point of having kids. To learn how much of an asshole you were and truly appreciate your own parents.

The other day, I said to my son

“I didn’t have kids to have them stare at a screen like a zombie all evening.”

His reply, “Then what did you have kids for?”.

That’s a good question.

I actually didn’t have an answer ….

I always said I DIDN’T want kids.

I was the oldest and I had to change three of my siblings diapers and feed them.

I remember cleaning poop from under my brothers balls and thinking “The hell with this.”😂

As teenagers, I remembered how atrocious my siblings and I were to my mother.

I never understood why my mom wouldn’t just go to bed when I was out 😂🙈😜

Now I pick my kids up bitching and whining at 9:30pm because I want to go to bed.

I never wanted to deal with that.

I wanted to avoid that struggle and stress; Just completely bypass that journey.

Then I fell for how adorable pregnant bellies are, how good babies smell & how cute and funny kids are when they are little. I got suckered into it.😂😜

My maternal instinct kicked in I suppose.

My heart wanted something despite what my brain said.

But still…What did I have kids for?

After I drive back and forth on 127th street twelve times in a day with school, practices, games while juggling work, laundry, appointments, and making dinner; I think of Henry Hill and the last half hour of Good Fellas.

While he is driving around, the helicopter is following him yet he attempts to go about his overbooked day…paranoid.

•Henry: 6:55am Doing a line of Coke

(Me: 5:55am – Energize drank🤪)

•7:30am Henry: Attempt to drop off guns to Jimmy (Me: Attempt to drive kids to school as fast as I can while kids fight)

•Henry: Get screamed at by Jimmy that guns are wrong and the drugs are turning his brain into mush

(Me: Kids bitch the whole way to school that they are always late because of me.)

•Henry: Dropping off guns in a paper bag

(Me: Finally Dropping kids off at school with lunches. Kids bitch about what’s in their lunch)

•Henry: Pick his brother up from hospital

(Me: Pick up medications from CVS)

•Henry: Braise veal, pork shanks and sausage for tomato sauce and while also getting some other great ideas for an appetizer

(Me: Scrolling on Pinterest for something to make for dinner and then end up giving up and default to spaghetti and frozen meatballs)

•Henry: Pick up a morose Karen

(Me: Pick up annoyed kids from school)

•Henry: Ditch the guns at his mother-in laws

(Me:Drop one kid at practice)

•Henry: Go pick up Drugs for Pittsburg deal

(Me: Pick up one kid from practice, drop one at a game early, go back home to drop other one off to finish homework, go back to other kids game -now late)

•Henry: Go to his side chic’s house to have her cut the drugs while she berates him; he eventually escapes cackling and she whips a cup of coke at him.

(Me: Make my kids do science projects and get the shit off dining room table while they bitch the whole time that they have to do this project. Get this project out of my life!!!)

•Finally eating dinner

••Like me, Henry did Not anticipate any setbacks like:

•Henry: The guns will be wrong and he has to figure out how to get money back.

(Me: Return some gifts the kids said they wanted for Christmas; but changed their mind- if I don’t do it today within the 30 day mark I will have to accept store credit🤬)

•Henry: Argue with his wife, Schmooze side chic to get drugs, and debate with his drug mule

(Me: Debate with old man about who drives where and why he thinks he can sit on the couch while discussing this.;)

•Henry: Give instructions to his old babysitter now drug mule only for her to ignore what he said, do exactly what he said not to and also forget her hat

(Me: Tell kids how to do science fair poster measurements, they say they understand, get annoyed with me and then they do exactly what I said not to do, all crooked- plus forgot science book)

•Henry: Almost getting into a car accident While looking at helicopter

(Me: Trying to find the away game location, not looking in front of me and almost back ending someone)

•Henry: When picking up his brother from hospital, the doctor made him sit down for an evaluation because he was so stressed out. (Me: Sitting at game with massive RBF, other parents who got it together ask me if I’m ok.)

Then all that shit doesn’t matter suddenly because the Cops arrive as Henry is about to leave to get his old babysitter’s hat. All the craziness Henry Is doing, doing, doing, STOPS. All that business aka BUSY-ness stops. There’s a GUN to his head. He HAS to stop!

Me: In an attempt to maximize some time, I think it’s a good idea to put two boxes of Christmas decorations away in the shed while kids doing project. It’s dark out and I trip on a frozen hose (that’s been left out since summer🙈) and completely wipe out on my right side smashing into the frozen brick-like ground. I’m tangled in the hose as if a boa constrictor is wrapped around my legs. I can barely get up my right arm hurts so much.

I’m laying on the cold, hard ground, wailing in pain, furious with myself exclaiming “everything sucks!”.

I manage to roll onto my back – still entangled in the stiff, frozen snake-hose. I continue to sob feeling sorry for myself as the pain slowly subsides.

I stare up at the lightly snowing sky.

I stop crying.

It’s so quiet and peaceful. I laid there for what seemed forever but it was probably two minutes. Had an Epiphany:

Who cares when I get all this done? What am I in such a hurry for?

I surrender. I raise the white flag.

I walk back into the house using only my left arm, laughing at myself thinking of Molly Shannon walking without using her arms. None of this matters. Now I can’t use my right arm so I’m forced to stop.

I sit down with the kids at the table. I let them ask me questions.

I let them TELL ME how they are going to do their project. I STAY QUIET. I let them tell me what they learned. I’m actually learning something new as well. I laugh at some of the pictures they found.

Instead of “getting it done” I realize I can enjoy the process of getting it done. I need to stop and BE where my kids currently are.

They just need me there for reassurance. They want to make sure they are doing it right. They need me to be PRESENT… KINDA like a mama bird does before she kicks them out of the nest…

I never thought I would miss them being toddlers and I totally do now… My heart hurts when I see pictures or videos of them when they are little. I stare at my toddler nephews in awe and amazement.

I suppose I will miss being an unpaid Uber driver, them saying mom 749 times a day and all this schedule craziness as well someday.

I had kids to enjoy them.

Just as Henry is alive and free, he is bored as hell and “there’s no action.” He misses “The Life”. I suppose I will too. However, I refuse to be bored…I plan on binge/watching all the shows I don’t have time for now😜

#henryhill

#motherhood

#gretchenrubin

#goodfellas

#freedom, Women's Fight

PYRAMID BITCHES

March 8, 2019March 8, 2019 quillankellydunn

The self-doubt is always there, but my WHY keeps me from listening most of the time.

However, yesterday was one of those days where I was “in my head” and unable to ignore that innate critic that lives in my brain.

The inner voice was louder than usual,

“You should quit”

“No one cares”

“Who are you to think you can make a difference”

“I can’t do it all”

“I can’t work, take care of myself and be a good mom.”

“I should give up”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“That’s not going to work”

“you will never afford that”

“Maybe I am doing too much”

“You aren’t good enough yet”

“Maybe I should wait until I’m better”.

Which all equals, I SUCK.

I caught myself all slumped over at my desk working, dejected with a pathetic self-pitying expression on my face.

I moped to my mailbox expecting more “stuff I gotta take care of” (wah wah). Perhaps another red light violation ticket from Crestwood Police Department for turning right on a red light. Instead, I received a letter from a friend from high school, (how exciting right!? Real mail not just bills!) who was one of my Beachbody customers, previous challenge group winners and my first Rodan and Fields customer. These two journals (pictured) were inside.

When I thanked her, this badass replied that when she saw them, she thought of ME! Then she actually took action on her thought and actually followed through and mailed them to me! (How many times do we think of doing something and then hesitate or don’t take the time to do it?)

I was shocked she thought of ME? I’m nobody, I’m just another girl from the Southside of Chicago.

In reality, ME = YOU and we are all equal. We are all doing the best that we can with what we know and what we have. WE are like every other woman in this world. We possess something incredible to offer to the world, each other and our families. When we all support each other=everybody wins.

To me, this tiny, unexpected gift is a value of an entire years income in terms of fulfillment. Incredible moments and words like this make this roller coaster all worth it.

This was a priceless reminder that:

Success is not about your circumstances, it’s about who you’re being. Jen Sincero -author of You are a Bad Ass

It is a reminder about who I am being and what I stand for. I stand for empowering women to empower themselves, recognize their worth, their power, find their strength, and I live that congruently everyday. I stand for men who respect women, our power, and our strength. I stand for men who can embrace what we bring to the table which may not always mean an equal paycheck.

I stand for women to be able to look in the mirror and feel good about themselves without waiting for someone to compliment them for it to mean anything. I stand for women to take action on what they want for themselves without guilt or asking permission. I stand for women taking the initiative to do something for themselves without waiting or being dependent on anyone else. I stand for inner power, confidence and teams/groups to empower support and success.

I stand for dedication, consistency, hard work, and commitment which equals results. What do you stand for?

Post below