Bert Kreischer and me may seem to have very little in common. After all, he’s a partier, rich, and has a penis. But, we actually are similar in a few …
Welcome to my own source of personal therapy.
This blog is an outlet for the inner workings of my mind, but is also a story of how you can make anything out of your life regardless of your upbringing or circumstances. You have to persevere and want more.
I made this life I have today, with a loving and ridiculous family who makes every trip around the sun an interesting one. With each step taking me closer to the type of success I dream about. I shouldn’t have what I have, but I do because I wasn’t willing to take less.
My blog is to share some of how I got here and how I keep going places. It’s a place to share struggles and realness. A place to share the absurdity that is being a mom.
Sometimes I overshare in my posts. I curse and give gory details about vaginas and grossness that comes with men and raising kids. But I also talk about spirituality, dealing with your babies not being babies anymore.
In here, I talk about what real life really is.
I’m not writing this blog, Raising the Curtins, to be popular or make boatloads of cash. That would be wonderful, but this blog has other purposes. To give me therapy so I stay somewhat sane, to leave a digital legacy for my children, and to share what’s real in life so others feel a connection through real life, not filters.
Bert Kreischer and me may seem to have very little in common. After all, he’s a partier, rich, and has a penis. But, we actually are similar in a few …
I posted a video the other day of Evie in the play yard with Marina. While I had my back turned, Evie had put a necklace over Marina’s head. The necklace was slightly taunt, but not choking her. Before I had taken my eyes off them, no necklace was in sight, and they had been playing just fine. But of course, any time you take your eyes off your kids, shit goes down. So, when I turned around and saw the future noose around Marina’s neck, here’s what went on in my brain:
“Hmfff, I can’t turn my back for a damn second, can I??! Someone’s gonna die.”
“Geezus, does Evie really not realize that could kill her sister or is she having a Good Son moment.”
“Ah, classic big sister, little sister moment right here.”
Family came to visit this past weekend to celebrate Evie turning 4. Vince’s mom, aunt, and sister all flew down from Pittsburgh to stay with us. We didn’t really do anything substantial while they were here. Mainly because Scarlett wanted to go to school every day like a NERD even though it was her last week of school.
We also didn’t do anything because we are a family of 6, two under the age of 5. Plus 3 visitors and Gianna‘s boyfriend. That’s a load to take out of the house in vehicles. So, the fam hung around the house most days, taking walks, trying not to die from heat, planning meals, movie night outside, and enjoying our community pool. On their last night here, I thought it would be nice to play a game together. Evie would go to bed early since she didn’t nap and had played in the sun for hours at the pool. All of us older people could enjoy some time together.
I’m not a materialistic person. Things don’t matter that much to me. Recall my blog post from 2019 about Vince being a hoarder and me not caring about things. Classic …
Evie has been gone this week. She traveled up to Pittsburgh with Vince for 5 days and it’s utterly insane how quiet the house is, despite me still having 3 …
I haven’t written a blog post in some time. I’ve been distracted with other life things. Which is ok, I guess. But I do feel like my mind has been pulled into too many different directions and that I’ve been doing things that really aren’t my jam. Like fuuuucccckkkkking taxes. I keep swearing every year that this is the last year I’m doing our taxes. But then, every year, April sneaks up on me and I find myself in TurboTax again.
Taxes aside, what’s really been keeping me busy in the free time I manage to eek out when my two youngest are still sleeping are my children’s books and associated quest to become a published author. I don’t think I’ve written about this yet here because I kind of see these two pursuits as separate. The “me” that writes children’s stories shouldn’t be the same “me” that talks about vasectomies, pubic hygiene, and what not. Right?!
If you love sarcasm, unfiltered motherhood stories, and the occasional chaos of my life (think: a mind that never stops over-analyzing everything. single. thing., parenting 4 daughters whose age ranges are ridiculous, and being married to an asshole)…you’re in luck.
Whether you're in the carline, folding laundry, or taking an extra long time on the toilet, throw on my audio files and pretend we're having a large glass of wine together and getting real. Because sometimes, you just need a voice in your ear telling you all the crazy shit about a middle aged woman and her family.
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