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.
Like many children, I loved playing with empty boxes. They were a blank canvas for my imagination. I didn’t have much growing up. My family was poor. So, I used to think I played with boxes because of that. However, now as an adult (and parent), I realize ALL kids play with boxes. Rich or poor, girl or boy, the love of boxes is universal….which led me to:”BOXES.”
Yes, the OTHER kind of boxes. Box, if you don’t know, is a slang word for your lady bits.
Recently, I wrote a post on Facebook to share my short story about my 12 year old daughter Gianna having her butt touched by a boy at school.
After sharing this post on a few FB pages, the backlash began. It escalated to personal attacks on my character and my husband Vince. It resulted in the county sheriff’s site being tagged and the police showing up on my doorstep to check on the welfare of my children.
Parenting is hard. Recently my 12 year old daughter, Gianna, was sexually harassed at school and this is how I dealt with the situation.
I really thought I was having a boy. When we learned it was another girl, I had to adjust my emotions. While I am excited for this little girl, there’s still an undefinable feeling of loss for the boy that will never be.
I’ve always been a spiritual person in that I’ve always believed in God. I didn’t always like him, mind you. I was angry for awhile. Regardless of my emotions, I always believed in something more. But exactly what that something more was, wasn’t always clear.
So much gets hammered into your brain when you’re a kid. So many rules and beliefs that you take for face value. You don’t think that you have a choice to believe in whatever the hell you want because the alternatives are wrong. It’s either this way, or the highway (to hell).
Family traditions are fun to establish. We recently played Christmas Lights Bingo and it was a hit! Read our experience and download 6 free printable cards.
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.
SUBSCRIBE & LISTEN HERE
